Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson Page 0,44
being released. Fucker ruined my mother’s life. But he got what was coming to him. Karma kicked his ass, and he died when he got plowed and drove his car into a fucking tree in 2003.
He isn’t the problem any longer.
Preston Brooks is.
Defense attorney slammed my mom in court, painting her as a single, poor, worthless mother who was prostituting for money. What jury would sympathize with a prostitute? But she wasn’t a hooker. She was a saint, and he slandered the shit out of her.
It was another day I’ll never forget.
The date was October 9, 2000.
Once again, I was at home with Sara while mom was at the courthouse. Sara had been practically living with us during the trial, pretending to take care of me while sleeping in my mom’s bed, feeding me pieces of dry white bread when I complained I was hungry. I had overheard mom telling Sara about deliberations, whatever that meant, but by her tone, I knew she’d be back home with me again soon.
I waited and waited all day for her, playing with my Star Wars figurines and my GI Joes mom bought me for my last birthday. When she finally came home, she went straight to her bedroom without saying a word.
“Mommy?” I had called, peeking my head around the corner to stare at her. She was crying; great big monster tears like I’d never seen her cry before. Her whole body shook as she lied there on her bed, and a horrible sound ripped from her throat like the sound of a wounded animal out in the wilderness. I crawled over her trembling form, curled myself into the hollow space between her knees and her breasts, tucked my body as small as I could, and burrowed in. Her arms came around me, squeezing me tightly to her as she cried.
“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I tried. I’m so sorry baby.”
“Don’t cry mommy. Please don’t cry,” I pleaded, trying to make her feel better the way she always helped me.
It wasn’t working.
That night, we both drifted off to sleep together, still wound as tightly as two people could possibly get.
But when I woke, she was gone.
I searched through the living room and the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. When I peeked outside through the window, her car was still parked in the driveway. She had to be here somewhere; she never left without her car, so I checked the bathroom.
The room was silent, no sounds of the shower or squeaky floors or the toilet flushing. The door slowly creaked open, and my eyes snapped open in terror. I found mom lying on the cold bathroom floor, an empty pill bottle in her hand. She was pale, cold, still.
“SARA!” I screamed so hard my throat was raw.
That time when the ambulance came, the police didn’t bring me to the hospital.
No. They took me away.
Mom didn’t die that day. She would have if I hadn’t found her as soon as I did. Instead, she was locked up in a psych ward, unfit to be a mother, and I wound up in foster care.
I think it would have been better for us both if she had died.
I failed her.
I couldn’t save her. Not from the attack, and not from the misery that followed.
Her tragedy became my tragedy; her revenge became my revenge.
An eye for a motherfucking eye.
CHAPTER NINE
We find ourselves driving to the police station an hour later per Elias’s insistence. At first, I bumbled around the apartment in a daze, blindly tugging on the clothes Elias handed me. As I started brushing my hair, the thoughts began creeping in and the cold paralyzing panic holding me back released me long enough for me to question what we were doing.
I didn’t want to go to the police. Even though he doesn’t have the grasp he used to, I’m done giving Travis the power to control my life. Going to make a statement is just one more thing Travis has forced me to do that I don’t want to.
Also, the more I think about it, the less sure I am that Travis is out to get me. Sure, he’s acting like a crazy ex, but this isn’t the guy I knew. As much as it pains me to remember, the Travis I first met saved me. He saved me from my mom and my house, but most importantly, he saved me from myself.
I don’t understand why he’s shown up after months apart when he abused