Fake It 'Til You Break It

Dr. Avery Hammons.

Hammons. As in...

Alex’s mom?

I set the bottle close to the door, and walk back home, my mind spinning more and more with each stride.

When I step inside my door, I don’t get a foot farther before my mom is in my face, a smile far too wide for my liking.

“What?” I ask hesitantly.

“I just got off of a very promising phone call.”

I slowly close the door behind me. “What phone call?”

Her smile spreads impossibly wider.

This can’t be good.Never once has my father ever reached out to me with the intention of asking me to come to his new house for a visit, the house he bought with the money he seduced my mother into giving him, money left to her from her family.

The shitty part is he doesn’t even need it. His new wife is worth even more, but he’s a greedy prick, and nothing is ever enough for Nikole Sykes.

The fact that he pulled some shit on my mom and still called me to come here is fucking with my head and bad.

I’ve been driving up and down his neighborhood for a half hour now, my leg bouncing against the seat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, I’m so stressed the fuck out, and I hate myself for it.

I hate how he still has a way of getting under my skin when I do my best to pretend his existence and all that goes with it means nothing.

He’s nothing.

There’s no doubt in my mind he’s aware I found my mom under the mountain of paperwork he left her with. He knows I know what he’s trying to do, even if I’m still missing pieces. Not that he cares, but still.

Invite me here for a fight in front of his wife who probably has no fucking clue he’s still screwing his ex when it’s convenient for him?

To say I’m on edge is an under-fucking-statement.

At first I flat-out refused, but when he used my mom as a threat against me, I had no choice but to cave to the asshole.

Who knows what he’ll pull on her next time I’m out of the house. I’ve already fallen even more days behind in school because of him and his latest stunt, I can’t afford to miss any more. He knew I’d take the time to try and figure out what exactly he accomplished by getting those documents signed.

I spent hours going over the paperwork he left, but it was all out of order and seemed pages were missing to the point where I couldn’t make any sense of it. I’m not a damn lawyer and most legal terms are lost on me, so it was more wasted time than not.

It didn’t help that whatever it was he gave my mom had her vomiting and sluggish into the next day. I’m the only one she has who cares about her, so of course I was at her side through it. I had to feed her more meds when she started shaking and getting even sicker once they began to wear off, so the two days that followed the first were spent watching my mom sleep and wishing she’d wake with a clearer mind than the one she’d laid down with.

He’s getting more reckless with her and I have no clue how to end it. Denying his request wouldn’t help any, that much is clear.

So here I am, parked outside of his place, glaring at the long walkway that leads to the front door, a giant ass welcome wreath hanging from the center of it.

I pull my phone out to check the time, but before I realize what I’m doing, I’m dialing Demi.

My muscles constrict even more when she doesn’t answer.

I haven’t talked to her since she came to my house, and it feels like too long already. She showed up, worried because I had disappeared. I should have taken the time to call her when I was out, but when shit at home gets so fucked up, I get lost.

I fuckin’ hate it.

There’s no way she didn’t see the prescribing doctor’s name on the pill bottles, and I need to prepare to talk to her about that.

I toss my phone to the side and look up again.

Fuck it.

I climb from my truck, taking my steps two at a fucking time.

The quicker I get in, the quicker I can get the hell out.

This isn’t my house and I know I’ll never truly be welcome here, but I walk in without knocking anyway.

Respecting this place is the last thing on my mind, so I don’t bother with closing the door, allowing it to slam shut behind me as I walk through the entryway, following the voices floating from around the corner.

“That must be my other son now.”

Other son.

Please. I have no brother.

Man, fuck this.

I lick my lips, stand straight and mask my fucking face before moving into view.