Page 148 of Maddox
“I lost myself with drugs and…other things to numb the pain. I…did things that I’m not proud of and I can’t even say it was in the name of survival. I just didn’t care.”
“Why?” I whisper and she bows her head.
She’s been chasing her pain foryears. Long before Petey.
If she supposedly left that shit behind, then what brought back her demons?
I’m not sure how to respond but she doesn’t seem to need my encouragement and looking over my shoulder into the past, she says, “I probably would’ve died if I hadn’t had you. You…you’re the reason that I left. I couldn’t be that person anymore, but I made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Confused, I cock my head, bringing her gaze back to me. She blinks and blinks again before I touch her hand and ask, “And you don’t know who my father is?”
“I was hurting,” she groans, covering her face. “I was in love. Joker…”
What?
“Joker?” I mutter, bending over. Please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t punish me like this.
Haven’t I had enough?
“Delaney? What’s wrong?” Mom says, caressing my back but panic surges up my throat and I slash my hand through the air.
Still, I have to swallow twice before I can ask, “I’m not…I’m not his kid, right?”
“Who?” she asks, her brows crinkling. Are you fucking kidding me?
A laugh bubbles on my tongue, but I suck that shit back and growl, “Joker. I’m not his kid, right?”
She rears back, her mouth thinning and my panic further flames when she merely stares at me before she finally says, “No. You’re not. Why?”
Thank fuck!
Sagging to the table, I suck back tears of gratitude or residual panic, I don’t know but suddenly, I just want out of this conversation because as much as I thought I wanted the truth, I’m not sure I’m ready for it.
“Delaney?” she says and I stiffen. “Why?”
I’m not talking about Maddox now. Hell, maybe never. Instead, I mumble, “Am I the mistake?”
She’s not stupid and she eyes me for a moment before saying, “No. I was partying. I was lost. By then sweetie, I didn’t know what day it was. I was existing and I got pregnant. You were such a blessing.”
When her eyes fill with tears, I look away. Was I?
Despite her words, I’m sensing a big fat something that she’s not saying, and I whisper, “But?”
Why? What could be worse than this?
“You saved me, little bird but when I brought you into this world, I made you a target too…”
A target for whom?
Staring blankly at the birds duking it out in the yard over something in the grass, I consider her statement, and I don’t know whether to mourn the fictional character I thought was my mother or fucking laugh because she was here all along.
Where do the lies end? Where does my story begin?
“Delaney, I know this is confusing,” she says, touching my hand but I pull away, fighting off the shame that fills my chest when her she bows her head.
Maybe with time, I can accept her confession but right now, I don’t know how to feel about it. It’s not like I blame her youthful self for making mistakes. I don’t but she grew up. She had kids and she slid back into something that ultimately killed my brother.
Why?
