Ruthless Love (Ash and Innocence 1)

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, stony faced and as imposing as ever. She was rocking slightly, as if to some song no one else could hear.

“Hey,” I said softly.

She looked up at me. We had seen each other plenty of times during the trial, but this was my first time coming to visit her since our big blowup before the police took her. It was our first time actually talking, and I had no idea what to expect.

“I hate knowing you’re off your meds,” she said.

I felt like a little of the air seeped out of me. I knew she’d only been here a few days, but I’d hoped some part of the trial would’ve at least made her see the whole thing was a delusion. “I feel great, though.”

“For now.”

Change the subject. The whole medicine thing was why she was here, I reminded myself. They’d have years to work with her to rewire her brain and fix that, if it could be fixed.

“I’m getting ready to go to college now,” I said.

She nodded, eyes still on the window.

“Tristan got a scholarship,” I added hopefully.

Her features twisted at the mention of his name. “Of course, he did. That boy is going to have the world handed to him on a golden platter. He’ll never have to try for anything so long as he lives.”

I pushed down my anger at her words. “Tristan doesn’t have it as easy as people think. And he got the scholarship because of academics. Not football, actually. When he got kicked off the team, when…” I stopped myself. I wanted things to be better with my mom again. No matter how long it took, I wanted to start healing the wound. But it wasn’t going to happen if I pretended she hadn’t done what she did. She needed to know how much pain she’d caused—how wrong she was. Once she accepted that, we could start moving forward. “When you got him kicked off the team, it didn’t matter that he got back on. College teams were afraid to make him offers because it seemed like too much of a risk. Thankfully, he has always worked hard in the classroom and he had the grades to get a partial scholarship to one of his top choices.”

She kept staring out the window, lips working together wordlessly. “Where’s your chair?” she asked. “You’re going to fall without your chair, sweetie.” Her voice was oddly distant, like she was talking in her sleep.

“I’m going to go, mom.” I hesitated once I stood, then walked over to her and hugged her tight. “I love you. I always will.”

After a few seconds, she put an arm around me and hugged me back.Epilogue - Kennedy* * *I could hardly believe it, but my mom’s trial was finally over. Eventually, I’d figured out a way to get through it without losing my sanity. My mom did need help, and if I loved her, I’d do everything in my power to make sure she wound up in a mental institution instead of a penal one.

With the help of a lawyer, we made it happen.

And then there was everything that had happened once Tristan moved in with me and my dad. The best part was watching how he couldn’t help squirming as my dad tried to become the father figure he’d never had. I knew he’d probably rather die a slow, painful death than admit it, but Tristan appreciated it. I’d even caught the two of them playing catch in the yard a few times—complete with my totally out of shape dad nearly killing himself trying to keep up as he ran for passes. Tristan, being Tristan, drilled every ball at my dad as hard as he could, but I’d seen the hint of a grin on his face, too.

But it wasn’t all fun and games. Surviving the trial had been an ordeal in itself, and now I guessed it was the part of the process where I started visiting her and trying to repair the damage.

A nurse let me in to see my mom, who was sitting in a room that was at least a little nicer than a prison cell. It was aggressively white, with the only splash of color being the baby blue of her uncomfortable looking bed and curtains. Her window had a view of one of Maine’s many stretches of dark forest.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, stony faced and as imposing as ever. She was rocking slightly, as if to some song no one else could hear.

“Hey,” I said softly.

She looked up at me. We had seen each other plenty of times during the trial, but this was my first time coming to visit her since our big blowup before the police took her. It was our first time actually talking, and I had no idea what to expect.