Page 22 of Prospect
"Long day?" she asks.
"You could say that."
"You want to talk about it?"
Sighing, I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Shit with my dad was taken care of. So was the letter you received."
"The letter…that was your dad?"
"Yeah, baby. I'm sorry. But you have nothing to worry about. The club handled it."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam. You didn't do anything."
"No. But he did it because of me." I shake my head. "My father confirmed that today when he said I was nothin' but a piece of shit disappointment."
"Sam," Sofia whispers.
"You want to know what's fucked up? My dad saying those things don't even bother me anymore. Not like it use to. Not like when I was a kid. What pisses me off is what he did to the club. To you."
"So your dad said that stuff to you when you were a kid?" her eyes water.
"Don't cry for me, Firefly." I wipe away the tear escaping down her cheek. "Having my mother made up for having a shitty father."
"Will you tell me about her?"
I smile. "My mom was sweet, quiet and soft-spoken, yet she was fierce. She was a momma bear through and through. I sometimes wondered what it was about my dad that she was drawn to. She told me once my father wasn't always the asshole he is now. My mom and dad met at college. Mom was from a small town in Texas and raised on a farm. My dad is from Dallas. He came from a respected family and followed in my grandfather's footsteps. She said the more successful he became so did his need for perfection. My dad became obsessed with his image. Mom went from being the wholesome country girl to a polished socialite. But that was just her image on the outside. On the inside, she was still her true self. Caroline Presley never forgot her roots. Dad hated the fact mom would take me to the farm every chance she got. Long weekends, spring break, and even a few weeks during the summer. My grandfather taught me how to tend to the animals, how to ride a four-wheeler, how to hunt. I spent every Christmas with my grandfather out on the farm. The times I spent camping and hunting with him are some of the best memories I have. When I was sixteen, my grandfather passed away and left my mom the house and their land. My grandmother had died two years before that." I stop and take a moment to reflect on that time before I continue. "Six months after my grandfather died my dad sold the farm. Right out from under my mom." I shake my head. "I don't know how he did it since everything was in her name. All I know is my mom was devastated. The one true piece of her past and who she was, he took from her. When she broke down and confronted him, he lost his cool and hit her."
Sofia gasps. "Oh my god, Sam."
"It wasn't the first time he had hit her, but it was the first time I witnessed it. My mom had been covering black eyes and bruises for as long as I could remember. I never told her I knew. Just like I had never told her my father was doing the same to me. That was until I hit a growth spurt and became bigger than him.
"Sam, why didn't you ever tell her he was hitting you?"
"Because she would have blamed herself."
"Mother and son, both carrying the same burden," Sofia whispers through tears she's unable to hold back.
"What happened to your mom?"
"When I was seventeen, I had come home late after celebrating with my team after we had won our championship football game. I was worried because my mom hadn't shown. She never missed a game and she especially wouldn't have missed the championship. When I pulled up in the driveway of our home, I saw dad's car was gone which wasn't unusual. I knew he had a woman on the side, and I suspected mom knew too. Anyway, what alarmed me was mom's car parked in the garage. The first thing I thought was she must be sick, so I raced inside and up the stairs to her bedroom. I knocked on her bedroom door, and there was no answer. I opened it and went inside to find it empty. I noticed the bathroom light was on and the door cracked. When I called out her name, I still got nothing. I remember feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest because I knew something was wrong." I look at Sofia. She has scooted herself closer to me and is now clutching the hem of my shirt.
"Oh, Sam. No."
"I found her on the bathroom floor. She had taken sleeping pills." I pull in a deep breath. The memory of finding my mother's lifeless body laying on the bathroom floor is a vision that will forever plague me. I don't hate my mom for what she did; I hate she felt so utterly and completely lost that she thought she had no other way out. My father had used her up until she didn't recognize who she was anymore. The only thing I can take away from the soul-crushing experience is knowing she no longer suffers. She is in a place of peace, and I take comfort in that thought. I also take comfort in knowing I fulfilled the only dream my mom had for me. I got out. I got out and found my purpose.
Chapter ten
Sofia
Facing Sam, I reach for his hand and hold it tight in mine. He just shared so much of himself with me and I wonder if I can be just as brave. "Baby, you okay?" Sam's brows crease with concern. Tears spill from my eyes for him. For his mother. And at this moment, I decided to share my past with him.
Looking down at our joined hands I take a deep breath. Before I lose my nerve, I start from the beginning. "I grew up poor. No money. Not much in material things but never lacking in love. Drug Cartels controlled everything, and our town was controlled by Los Demonios, an MC known to be on the Cartel's payroll. My father worked many odd end jobs, but never making enough to get us to where he could afford to move us into better housing." Sam gives my hand a reassuring squeeze to keep going. "I went to school. My mom and I walked almost an hour twice a day to get me there, but she was determined I would get an education so that someday I could make a better life for myself." My thoughts drift back in time and images of my parents appear. "Things went from bad to worse just before I turned fourteen. My dad lost his job and couldn't find work unless he went to live hours away or tried to cross the border, but he wasn't willing to leave his family behind because the crime was getting really bad in the area. Women and children turning up missing were becoming more of an occurrence, so my father being desperate started working for Jorge a member of Los Demonios." I close my eyes fighting back the storm brewing deep inside.
"I'm right here, baby." Sam encourages me to stay strong.
Opening my eyes, I look at him. "My parents started fighting after that, which was something they never did before. My mother knew Papa wasn't being truthful about the type of work he was doing and to this day I still don't know what he did." Lifting my hand, I wipe my tears away. "He stole from them, Sam. Out of desperation, my father stole from Los Demonios, which is the same as stealing from the Cartel themselves. He took the money he was supposed to take back to Los Demonios, and instead took us across the border into the U.S." I hang my head, still angry with my father for being so stupid.
I would have rather lived the rest of my life as we were—poor, but together and alive than for him to have done what he did because he felt he had no other way out. "He didn't tell us this. My mother and I knew nothing of his crime until the day Los Demonios found him." I take a shuddered breath. "They beat him. There was so much blood." The next parts of my story I know Sam will find hard to listen to, but I can't stop now. I need to keep going. I need to purge my body of all the memories I've kept locked up inside for so long. I lock eyes with Sam. "That was the last night I saw my parents. Los Demonios took me as payment for my father's sins, just before they took his life with a single bullet. I don't know what happened to my mother. I never saw her again." My heart aches at the thought of what those monsters could have done to her.
