Addicted

Valentine didn't seem at all to be a rich bitch by any stretch of the imagination. She hadn't walked into the shop flaunting the fact that her father owned half the state of Minnesota. She'd been humble and not mentioned any of it until Jerry pulled it out of her. The night before, she'd just been trying to protect herself, or maybe I was giving her too much credit as it were.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted my mom, just checking in. My phone rang almost immediately with my mother's number on it. For a minute, I thought maybe I'd accidentally dialed her, but no, she was calling me. She never bothered me at work unless it was an emergency.

"Mom?" I walked out of the shop and into the darkness. I didn’t stop to grab my coat, but hopefully, I wouldn't be out there long.

"Tate, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you." Her voice was pinched with fear and she was panting. My heart went into my throat almost immediately.

"Mom? What's going on? What's wrong?" Terror gripped me, and I jogged back to the garage to lay my tools down. Jerry glanced up, and I mouthed that it was my mom and I was leaving. He simply nodded. He knew the drama that continued to encircle my life since I'd been a boy.

"Daniel's here, Tate. Please be careful coming home." She let out a soft yelp just before she started crying. "I'm trying to be quiet."

"Fuck. Where are you?" I ran to my bike and got on, starting the engine. Her ex-boyfriend was supposed to still be in jail. Why wasn't he?

"I'm in the cabinet under your bathroom sink. He broke in. Hurry. Please. I'm scared." She let out another whimper, and damn if I didn't feel the burn of tears in my eyes. If anything happened to her, I was going to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands.

"Hold on. I'll be there in five minutes. Don't make a sound, Mom. Please." I dropped the call, unable to hold the phone to my ear while driving.

I made it home in three minutes by doing close to a hundred the whole way there. I pulled out my phone and dialed 9-1-1 as I raced toward the door.

"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"

"My stepfather is out of jail and trying to kill my mother. Look up the address from the phone. I'm leaving it on the porch and going in. Hurry." I sat the phone down and ducked into the house.

The sound of my mother screaming accompanied with the sickening thud of someone being beat left my lunch rising in my stomach.

I grabbed the baseball bat from the hall closet and raced down the hall.

"You sorry bitch. You shouldn't have tried to have me locked up. I'll-"

He didn't get another word out as I reached into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of his greasy hair. I pulled hard, and he screamed, but so did my mother. He had a handful of her hair, as well.

I didn't think twice

before swinging the bat and hitting him in the chest before he could figure out what was going on. He dropped her, and she scurried back in to the bathroom as she continued to cry amid her horrible coughing.

"You sorry motherfucker." I hit him again, but he wasn't one to lay back and take a beating. The nasty scar across his ugly face was new, fresh. I had to guess that he didn't play too well with the guy in his cell.

"You little son of a bitch." He grabbed the bat and pulled me to him, head-butting me hard.

I stumbled backward, but got my footing enough to drop to the ground and ram the bat into his crotch. He screamed and fell to the floor in front of me. I threw the bat behind me and grabbed him, rolling him and climbing on top of him as I started to throw punches.

Two strong hands pulled me off of him only seconds later, and every muscle in my body locked up. I'd never been so damn scared in all my life. I blinked a few times, realizing that the cops were there, and we were going to be okay. I scrambled into the bathroom and picked up my mother to carry her out.

"Right this way, son." A cop reached out and took my arm, helping me to keep my focus by guiding me out of the house. "Careful of the stairs."

I followed the sound of his voice, but kept my eyes focused on my mom. She was breathing, but her eyes were closed and her face bloody.

"Please, don't let anything happen to her." I moved to the ambulance as they opened the back doors. A car pulled up and my mother's oldest sister got out and ran toward us.

"Oh my God, Tate. She called and said to get over here, but you know I live about-" She stopped and let out a soft scream as she moved up to hover over the top of my mom. "Is she... Is she..."

"No, she's just hurt pretty bad." I reached out and brushed my mother's hair back. She wasn't responding, but I'd seen her like that more times than I could count. She found a safe place in her mind to hide, and I couldn't say that I didn't understand why she did it. I wanted a safe place to hide, too.

"Can I go with her? Is that okay?" My aunt pulled me into a quick hug as I nodded in agreement.

"Where are you taking her?" I asked one of the paramedics as they closed the back of the ambulance.

"St. Mark's General," he barked and walked around the ambulance.