“Take that back,” I threatened in return. My mind was racing. She’d never shown such hatred toward me in front of anyone else. Was she losing it? Was she so drunk that she was about to let the truth slip?
“Enough!” my daddy shouted, obviously worrying about the same thing. “I won’t discuss this any further. Quit f**king the girl and get on board with what’s happening. Your one f**king purpose in this life is to do as we say and do your duty as a Prince! So do it! And stop being such a pig-headed ass**le!”
Laughing without humor, I gripped Molly’s hand and announced, “I’m through with y’all. I choose Molly. I choose to not be in this f**ked-up life anymore. Jesus Christ! What more can you do to me?! You’re the worst f**kin’ people I’ve ever known. I’m your only son and you can’t stand me.” I had one more question, and even then, I couldn’t help but hope the answer would change. “Have you ever even loved me? Ever just once felt anything for me?”
My daddy curled his lip in disgust. “How can anyone love you? How can anyone love a stone in their shoe? You’re just one giant disappointment. But you will do your duty to this family, regardless. We’ll find a way to make you see reason, you mark my words.” The answer was always the same. I’d been a damn fool to ever think otherwise—they would never accept me.
My breath stuttered. Even just reliving tonight’s shitshow felt like a thousand daggers being plunged into my back one at a time.
I was in a bad place, one of the worst I’d ever been… And then the door opened, and I knew my girl was here to leave me for good, to deliver the final killer blow.
23
As soon as I heard the door shut, I decided to use offense as the best defense and whirled to face Mol.
“You should never have made us come here!” I screamed, seeing her red-with-crying eyes enlarge at the lack of control I had over my anger. “I warned you! I told you they weren’t happy about us, but you didn’t listen to me. You told me it’d be okay, that they would see us together and realize what we meant to each other. But no! Instead, you agreed to your own f**king execution. Christ, Mol! The way they treated you…” I waited for a sign, for some indication of what she was thinking. But there was nothing. She was numb, unmoving, and my heart f**king broke.
“Rome—” She eventually began to speak, but the way she said my name was wrong… off. Panic set in my veins and I interrupted her before she could continue—I couldn’t hear that she was leaving me. It would be the final straw.
Pacing before her, I yelled, “I could’ve stopped it—should have! I knew what they were capable of and still I trusted that you could handle it. But I saw your face in there, Mol—you f**kin’ checked out on me!” She had. They’d attacked and she had cowered.
Red burst across her cheeks, and she stepped forward, eyes blazing, meeting my shit head on. “I don’t care about what they said to me, but I care about what they are doing to you! Why do they hate you so much, Romeo? There has to be a reason. That was beyond brutal. What kind of parent hates their child for no reason?” Tears welled in her eyes and she croaked, “Your mother, the way she hit you, how could she treat her only son that way?” She was struggling to keep her composure.
Why did she hit me? Why does she hate me? Fuck! There was a reason all right! I’d kept the damn secret for so long that I felt I was buried under its massive weight.
Staring at Molly and pulling desperately on my hair, the words not coming easily, I decided to just spit it out quickly, get it done. I’d lost her anyway; may as well tell her why my life was so f**ked up.
Blood roared in my ears, and reaching forward, I let go and heard myself shout, “Because I’m not hers!” I sucked in a sharp breath when the sentence had finally been said.
I’d told someone. For the first time in twenty-one years, I’d told someone what my folks had fought so hard to protect, and my hands began to shake with the enormity of what I’d just done.
“W-what?” Molly whispered, her eyes huge with surprise, pulling me back to the here and now.
Skirting a finger down her cheek, needing the support, I repeated, “Because. I’m. Not. Hers. You wanted to know so badly why they hate me. Well, that’s why.”
“No…” I could see the disbelief. No one knew. No one had ever f**king known. It was a secret I was meant to take to the grave.
Molly’s eyes darted around the room and her hands cupped her mouth, tears dripping down onto her cheeks. The slow burn of antagonism built as I thought of my folks, but my girl needed to understand.