Saving Rain(26)

Her demeanor shifted subtly. Like a storm cloud passing quietly through an otherwise clear sky. “So, it’s true. You’re up for parole.”

I nodded. “Yeah. My hearing is in a week.”

Her jaw shifted as her eyes dropped to the table. She picked at her frayed cuticles, at her brittle nails, before saying, “I don’t want you coming home.”

Off to my right, Coop—a guy who’d attempted a bank robbery after finding out he was gonna lose his house—must’ve just told his wife he had a good shot at getting out of here, too, because she was jumping out of her seat to throw herself at him. The guard allowed the hug for a few seconds before asking them to break it up.

And there was my mom, telling me she didn’t want me coming home.

It must’ve been nice to have someone who wanted you out, where they could hug you without someone telling you to stop.

A muscle in my jaw twitched. “Why not?”

“Because …” She squeezed her hands into white-knuckled fists, like she was suddenly angry. She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you even know what you have done to my life since you murdered Billy?”

The air was sucked out of the room as I stared at her skeleton face. Those words—murdered Billy—sliced deep, cutting through bone and muscle, until they pierced what was left of my heart. Except she had it wrong.

I hadn’t murdered Billy.

I hadn’t wanted him to die; I hadn’t asked him to take her poisoned drugs. But he had done it anyway, and I would live with that for the rest of my life.

The fact that she thought I’d murdered him though … that hurt when I knew it shouldn’t. Her opinion shouldn’t have mattered. Yet it did. It always would.

“I didn’t murder anyone,” I replied, my voice low.

“Bullshit,” she hissed, sneering. “And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Billy’s mother? You ever wonder what it’s gonna be like for her, seeing you wandering around like nothing happened? You think anybody is gonna wanna see your face, knowing what you did? You embarrassed me, Soldier. You disgraced our entire family. God …” She sucked at her teeth as she looked away, shaking her head. “I can’t even imagine what your grandparents would say right now if they were alive.”

I could’ve sat there and taken everything she gave me without even moving a muscle. But the moment she brought Gramma and Grampa into it, everything I saw before me turned red.

“Shut the hell up,” I said through a jaw clenched too tight.

But she just wrinkled her nose and stared right into my eyes as she continued, “Grampa wouldn’t have been able to even look at you. You disgraced his name. You tainted it and everything he’d taught you. He would’ve regretted ever talking me out of aborting—”

I smacked my palms against the table, allowing the sound to echo through the room. A heavy hush settled over the inmates and visitors alike as a nearby guard warned me to settle down, but you know what? Fuck that.

I leaned forward, nearly touching my nose to hers, and said, “I should've let you die.”

Her eyes widened. Fear ignited in her tiny, pencil-dot pupils as her mouth fell open. “What … what are you—”

“Everything … everything I have ever done, everything I did to myself … the reason I am here is because of you. To save your ass. To protect you. That’s what Gramma and Grampa taught me to do—to protect you.” I jabbed a finger at her bony chest.

“Mason, this is your last warning,” the guard said, edging closer to where we sat.

“That’s fine. I’m finished,” I said, standing up from the bench. But before I could walk away, I leaned over my mother, purposely intimidating her with my size and height and whatever the fuck she thought of me. “Just remember, you are alive right now because of me. Billy is dead because of you. And I’ve been the one paying for it for the past nine and a half years, and you thank me by telling me I’m not welcome in the home I fucking helped pay for? You’re the fucking disgrace, Diane. Not me.”

The guard was beside me now, his hand on his billy club, just in case. But I’d never give him a reason to use it. I quickly offered an apology for my misconduct and hurried away from the woman I’d once believed cared about me. And you know what? Maybe there had been one point when she did. Maybe that time in the hospital, when I’d had my face cut open, was the last. But she didn’t give a fuck about me now—that was for damn sure—so why did I even attempt to give one about her?

Except I did. And what she had said, I couldn’t shake it off as I slumped to the floor of the library and held my head in my hands.

My parole hearing was in a week. I’d likely get out of here, unless they really just liked my company that much.

Where was I supposed to go? If I couldn’t move back home, what the hell was going to happen to me? Did the entire town truly hate me as much as she’d said they did? What the hell future did I have in a place where nobody wanted me—not even my own mother?

Unless I never left.

I had a life here.

I had shelter, food, friends.

Why the hell would I ever want to leave?

I listened to the shuffle of sneakered feet entering the library. I dropped my hands to watch Gene—an older guy who had thought it’d be a good idea to break into a string of houses after losing his job—walk toward a shelf not far from where I sat. Without thinking, I stood up, grabbed the heaviest book I could reach—sorry, Stephen King—and made my fast approach.