I tried to ignore the armed guard watching us interact and the silver glint of handcuffs every time Brayden moved his arm.

“It’s not so bad.” He managed a pained smile as I sniffled in the chair beside his bed. “You should see the other guy.”

I wasn’t in the mood for his sense of humor, and I let him know it too. He’d been beaten to a pulp, and he was lucky to be alive.

“I have to fix this,” I said, more to myself than to Brayden. “There has to be something…”

“Stop.”

Brayden’s tone brooked no argument. And when I looked into the depth of his brown eyes, I was shocked again by how much they’d hardened over the years. “There’s nothing you can do for me Brighton, except sit here and enjoy the time we have together right now. Is that too much to ask?”

I nodded, embarrassed I’d even mentioned it in front of him. It was against my agreement with Ryland to say anything in the first place, and this conversation could have come dangerously close with the mood I was in.

But Brayden was right. I was only allowed this one visit with him, something the guard informed me was normally against the rules in these circumstances. I suspected he’d been paid off, and there was only one guess as to who would have done that.

“They kicked mom out, you know,” Brayden offered up a change of subject.

“I know,” I groaned. “I saw her lurking in the parking lot on my way in. She was in a real lovely mood.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on her,” he said, staring out the window as his eyes glazed over.

“Really?” I bit back. “Have you seen her, Brayden? She looks like shit. She’s knocking on death’s door. She’s as thin as a lamp post and half of her teeth are rotted out of her damn head.”

“I know,” he replied. “But that’s why she needs you. I can’t be there for her anymore, and I’m not asking you to move back or anything… but would it kill you to call her every once in a while?”

“Why should I?” I sniped. “When was she ever there for us?”

I didn’t know why I sounded so bitter. I’d never been this way before. But with everything else I had to worry about, Norma-Jean was no longer making the list. I couldn’t help those who didn’t want to help themselves.

“It wasn’t always like that,” he said quietly. “She had a rough go of it, Brighton. Things weren’t easy for her either…”

“Why are you defending her?” I asked. “You seem to remember a completely different childhood to the one I had. And you weren’t there these last five years as she spiraled down the rabbit hole. So don’t tell me how bad she had it.”

My words had hurt him, and immediately I regretted them.

“I’m sorry, Brayden.” I wiped my eyes and shook my head. “I’m tired and stressed, and I was worried sick about you.”

“I know.” He squeezed my hand in his. “And I’m sorry too. You’re right. I wasn’t there, and I guess I probably don’t know half of what went on after I got locked up. But I don’t want our family to fall apart before I can see the light of day again.”

This was the Brayden special. He could say something like that at the moment, and without even meaning to put a guilt trip on me.

“I’ll try to keep in better contact with her,” I promised.

Brayden nodded, and the guard stepped forward.

“Time’s up.” He glanced at his watch. “The nurse will be in soon.”

Brayden gave me a weak smile and remained strong while I leaned over and hugged him. The guard cleared his throat, and I shot him a dirty look before stepping backwards.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promised. “First thing.”

“Okay, Brighton. Take care of yourself.”

“It’s not goodbye,” I emphasized. “It’s see you later.”

“Alright then,” he agreed. “See you later.”

 

***

 

When I walked back out of the hospital, Norma-Jean was waiting for me, ready to pounce. She paced back and forth in her cheap white heels, a cigarette hanging from her mouth as smoke billowed in the air around her. She had been pretty once, but looking at her now it was hard to tell. Her eyes had dulled to a stale shade of green while her skin had leathered and her hair turned to straw.

She cocked her head to the side and gave me a condescending smile as her eyes roamed over my clothing. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a pink cashmere sweater Ryland bought me, and suddenly, I wished I wasn’t.

“What’s with the clothes?”

“It was all I had on short notice,” I supplied.

“They look expensive,” she retorted, sniffing the air as though she could smell money rolling off of me. Norma-Jean had always turned up her nose at anything that looked expensive.

“Look, ma, do you want to know how Brayden’s doing or not?”

She narrowed her eyes at the term she hated, but I didn’t care. I was too tired for her antics.

“I already know,” she snapped. “Just cause’ you come in here looking all fancy, and they tell you, you think that makes you special? Well, guess what, I know my rights, and they have to tell me too. I’m his mother in case you forgot. You can change your clothes and the way you walk like you’re some big shot, but remember the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’ll come back here someday. Mark my words. And you’ll be as humble as all the rest of us little folks once you see how the world really works.”

I’d learned a long time ago it was better to pick my battles with Norma. And usually, I wouldn’t have blinked twice at her tone or her snide remarks. But today, it was the final straw. I was sick of her pushing me around. I was sick of everyone pushing me around. And so I opened my mouth and let all the vile hatred that I’d been storing up for two decades spew out.

“I’ll never be like you,” I snarled. “You’re a goddamned drunk and a drug addict, Norma. When are you going to get your shit together? It’s only been forty-six years. Isn’t that enough time to figure it out?”

I knew it was coming. I’d felt the weight of it plenty of times in my younger days. It still shocked me when her palm collided against the side of my cheek. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and I didn’t have to put up with this. To hell with what I’d promised Brayden, and to hell with her.

When I looked back up at the regret in her wrinkled face, I did feel sympathy for her. That was the way of an addict. They would lash out at the only people who could ever possibly love them, then feed their self-hatred with more of their chosen vice. It was a vicious cycle, one I doubted Norma-Jean would ever be able to break.

I didn’t need to punish her any more than she was already punishing herself. I simply needed to walk away. So that’s what I did.

But when I turned, I saw Ryland striding towards me. And by the set of his jaw, I was guessing he’d seen the whole interaction. His neck was corded, and his eyes flared with hatred as he stalked towards my mother.

I had to admit, it scared me a little. I’d never seen him so unhinged. So filled with rage. And I had to stop him before he did whatever that rage was telling him to.

I stepped into his path and pushed against his chest, feeling the weight of the muscle heaving with each ragged breath. He didn’t take his eyes off Norma-Jean, and I could sense the volatility growing with each passing moment.

“Ryland?” I grabbed his face and tilted it down towards mine so he could see me. “Hey, I’m okay. We’re okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

“What the hell are you doing with him, Brighton?” My mother’s voice accused from behind me.

How she even knew who Ryland Bennett was I couldn’t say. She’d probably seen him in a magazine and locked him up tight in her mental category of rich bastards she’d hate until the day she died.

“Leave, Norma,” I grated. “Please. You’ve done enough here today. Just go home.”

There was a beat of silence in which I made sure to hold Ryland’s gaze. There was still a storm raging in his eyes, but whatever I was doing appeared to be helping, at least a little. Norma-Jean was still grumbling behind me but stopped the moment he spoke.

“If you ever touch her again, I will kill you myself.”

Everything around me went quiet, and I tried to see his menacing words for what they were. An empty threat. Norma didn’t respond well to threats, and I braced myself for her to come back with something equally nasty.

But instead, all I heard was the receding of her heels as they carried her away. I was officially dumbfounded.

Ryland pulled me into his arms and closed his eyes as he kissed my stinging cheek.

“Nobody hurts you like that,” he murmured. “Ever.”

“You do sometimes,” I reminded him in an effort to ease the tension.

“That’s different.” He grunted.

“Why?”

“Because you like it.”

I smiled and shook my head, and Ryland even smiled a little too.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I whispered against him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be here,” he said. “For you. But then I saw what she did—”

His rage was returning, so I tried to calm him.

“I can imagine how it must have looked to you,” I said. “But she’s an addict. And she is still my mother.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, he kissed me on the forehead and took me by the hand as he led me through the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Home,” he stated firmly. “As far away from this place as we can get.”