Convict Me (Broken Heroes 1)

I blink, annoyance slamming into me. She talks to me like I’m dumb and incapable of my own thinking. As if I didn’t know she came here to talk to me about something. Most parents come to visit their kids because they miss them. My mother comes to tell me something.

“Something you couldn’t tell me over the phone?” I question, my brow raised.

“Elyse…” She leans forward and reaches across the table like she is about to take my hand in hers.

Nope, not doing that. Pulling my hand away before her fingers can even graze mine, I straighten myself.

My mom clears her throat, looking slightly hurt. She then pulls her hand back and places it in her lap before continuing. “Elyse, I really think you need to take a good look at yourself and reflect on what you are doing here. People at church have been talking about you, about us. Who do you think is going to marry you if you are impure?” she mumbles over the word as if just saying it out loud will make her a bad person.

With her insults hanging in the air, I stare into her unapologetic eyes, my mouth hanging wide open. “Mom, first of all, it’s none of your business what I’m doing before marriage. Second, I don’t care what the people at church think about me…or you, for that matter. Also, please stop showing up unannounced just to try guilting me into coming home.” By now, I’m seething with rage. Had I known this would be a guilt fest, I’d have just stayed in bed with Hero.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just want you to come home and be with your family…where you belong. Your siblings miss you too, you know. Come home before it’s too late.” My mom is clearly struggling to keep her voice calm after my little outburst.

Unfortunately, for both of us, I have already reached the end of my rope.

“I belong here…with Hero. I am not coming home, and since you are so concerned with my virginity and being pure, I’ll have you know I’ve lost that already.”

Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say. My mother sucks in a sharp breath and her face goes crimson. She jumps up from her seat, just to slam her hands down on the table with a loud smack, alerting everyone in the building.

All eyes are on us as my mom leans toward me, and yells, “You should be ashamed of yourself, being a disgrace to our family. I can’t believe I’ve raised such a whore.”

My whole body freezes. I can’t even blink, but it only takes me about five seconds to compose myself and decide this is the last straw for me. I can’t keep subjecting myself to this behavior. I left for college for a reason. I was lucky I got out and don’t have to deal with this—them. Not anymore.

“I don’t want to see you here ever again.” Surprised at how I even manage my voice to come out, I get up and march out the door.

Without thinking about it, I use my hand with the hurt wrist to push the door open. A sharp pain radiates through my arm, reminding me of my mistake.

I grit my teeth and keep walking. Right now, I welcome that pain. I’d rather concentrate on that than thinking about what my mom just said to me.

Rage simmers deep inside me. She didn’t even ask about my wrist, or acknowledge it, for that matter. What kind of mother does that?

She had to have seen it, but clearly, her concern for my wellbeing is not the most important thing. All she’s worried about is what people might think about her…about my family, about my purity.

Walking back to Hero’s place takes me half the time since I’m basically speed walking. I should have never answered that call. I could have stayed in bed with Hero, instead of allowing my mom to tell me what a horrible person I am.

It isn’t until I’m in front of Hero’s door I realize I don’t have a key to his place. God, this is just getting worse by the second. Lifting my hand to the bell, I’m just about to press it when the door swings open.

A now fully dressed Hero rushes out so quickly, he almost knocks me over.

I blink while steadying myself.

“Elyse, what the fuck?”

Before I have a chance to respond, or do a thing, his arms engulf me in a bear hug, pulling me to his chest so tightly, I can hardly breathe. The air in my lungs stills, and I wonder if he’s just happy to see me.

He lets go of me, just enough to be able to pull me into the house and shut the door behind us. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I told you not to go anywhere by yourself.”