God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(107)

“Oh, Creigh. You didn’t lose everything.” She grabs my hands in hers. “You have us. No matter what happens, no matter what the world, nature, or science says, you’re my son. You became my son the first day I met you in that room at the shelter. You were so scrawny and small, but you didn’t hide. You stood up from that bed on your tiny feet and stared at us with these beautiful inquisitive eyes. They held so much pain, so much torture, but they had a lot of hope, too. Hope for a different life, hope to move past your trauma, and hope to actually find a family again. You looked at us like we were already your parents, and I fell in love at first sight. And believe me, I’ve never fallen in love at first sight, not even with your father, not even with your brother—since I gradually fell in love with him during the nine months of pregnancy, but you, you’re different, baby. You’re the one I’d fall in love with over and over again if I had to. I’d kill your demons for you. If I’m ever reborn, I’d sacrifice myself if it meant I’d get to have you as my son again. So please, if you have any issues, talk to me, or your father, or Eli. Don’t just battle your demons on your own. Don’t just…leave us.”

She’s flat-out crying, my mum. Her tears cling to her chin, and that wretchedness fills her once bright blue eyes again.

Is this what I do? Put darkness in the place of light?

Destroy everything I touch?

These are the thoughts she must’ve had ever since I woke up in the hospital, or maybe since she found out that I’d been shot and the reason behind it.

She probably thinks she’s not enough, which is why I wanted to die.

“I know I didn’t give birth to you, but I felt like your mother since the moment I met you. The first time you called me Mum was one of the happiest moments of my life, and I’ll always, always consider you my flesh and blood.”

“I never considered you any less. That woman who gave birth to me was never my mother, you are. And that scum who donated the sperm isn’t my father, Dad is.”

A soft frown etches across her features. “Then why were you so bent on avenging them?”

“I wasn’t avenging them, I was avenging myself. I wanted closure for the weak three-year-old version of me.” I hold my head between my hands. “But I ended up fucking it all up.”

“Oh, baby.” Mum leans my head against her chest and strokes my hair, silently offering me her support.

No clue if it’s due to that or the weight of all the events catching up to me, but I confess it all.

“I wanted her to kill me, Mum. I wanted the one person who made me feel alive to shoot me. I would’ve died and ended it all and she’d never forget about me. I wanted her to not be able to move past me. I wanted to be a stain on her life forever so whenever she looked in the mirror, she saw my shadow. I wanted to haunt her, to prevent her from being with anyone else after me. How fucked up is that?”

“You were just on a high of emotions.” Her voice is soft, soothing, and holds not an ounce of judgement.

Because that’s how mothers are.

“No.” I pull back and tap my chest, where the wound is. “I still wish I could go back in time and make her kill me properly. That way, I wouldn’t feel so fucking empty knowing I lost her for good.”

“Nonsense.” Dad leans against the doorway, arms crossed, probably having listened to the whole conversation. “There’s no such thing as losing someone for good if you put your head into it. I admit that I wanted that bloody mafia miss out of your life for daring to hurt you, and I threatened her to stay the hell away from you, by the way. But if you want her, go for it. I’ll back you up.”

“Aiden.” Mum wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “How can you say that? If he goes to the States, her father will kill him.”

“Not if I have a say in it.” Dad raises a brow. “Let me ask you, Creigh. Do you want to go after her?”

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’re ill-fated.”

“Bullshit. You’re just letting fear of rejection get the better of you. I didn’t know I had a coward of a son.”

“Aiden!” Mum reprimands again.

“It’s not that—”

“Then what is it?” he cuts me off. “You expect me to believe you’re over her when you vehemently refused to press charges against her? You were barely speaking at the time, but you begged me not to bring her name up to the police. I won’t tell you what to do, but I’ll tell you this, son. If you let her go, someone else will swoop in and take her.”

Hot fire spreads in my chest with the lethality of an erupting volcano. That thought has been plaguing my waking and sleeping moments. Images of Annika with another man have left me mad and with a sense of trepidation. Especially since I overheard Cecily and Glyn say that she might be arranged to marry some mafia man, after all.

“I just…can’t forgive her parents. I won’t. I can’t. And I know how much she loves them.”

“And you’re scared she’ll choose them like she chose her brother?” Mum asks in a soft voice. At my nod, she strokes my cheek. “If that’s the choice she makes, then she doesn’t deserve you, baby.”

“What your mother said,” Dad agrees. “If she doesn’t recognize your worth or hurts you again, you’ll know her nature and that way, you’ll be able to move on. For good.”