Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)(73)



“My mother is a fraud!” My head swung back over.

She sucked her breath in again. It was loud and dramatic. Just the way she wanted, I was sure of it. My father gripped the table, mirroring my stance with the chair. He held on to keep from doing…what, I wasn’t sure? Hitting me? I frowned to myself. Would my father harm me for speaking the truth? Was it that essential for him to protect their lies? But it was. I knew it was as I saw him fighting for control.

“Alex,” Jesse murmured again. He had circled the table and stood beside me. His hand touched the back of mine.

I shrugged it off. I didn’t need support, not then, maybe not ever again. I needed restraint because I was losing mine fast.

“The nurses didn’t think you really tried to kill yourself.”

Her eyes threatened to pop out while I heard someone gasp behind me. My father shoved against the table, the same rage in him that I felt. Welcome to the club. He spat out, “You will not speak any longer. You shut up. You will do more harm than ever before.”

I sucked in my breath. “Ever before? What damage did I do before?”

Jesse tried again, “Mr. Connors—”

“You weren’t the only one grieving, Alexandra. Your mother was as well.”

“And you were too. We all were.” I rattled the chair. I wanted to lift it up and throw it across the room. “Why are you two more important than me? You left me. I’m your daughter and you completely left me. You wouldn’t even talk to me when Mom was in the hospital. You talked to Jesse. You hugged him, but you couldn’t even look at me. Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. That’s all you cared about then.”

“Alex.” Jesse moved even closer to me.

“Stop.” I shifted away so he wouldn’t touch me. “This is my secret, Jesse. My parents. They dropped me after Ethan died. I got a f**king email from them this morning. They warned me they were coming to see you and if I ‘would run across their path’ I wasn’t supposed to make ‘a scene.’ A scene! Can you believe that?” I lifted my wrist and showed him the burn. “I got this after I burned the letter they sent me. A f**king letter that told me they were starting a new life without me. Without their daughter! How can parents do that? How can you justify that in your head and abandon your own blood, your last kid? You lost Ethan. You think you’d want to keep me closer because you already lost a kid, but no. You cut me loose. Fuck you. Fuck you both! I burned that f**king letter and I didn’t even notice my own burn until weeks later. You did that to me. Do you know how screwed up I am because of you? What did I do to you? Nothing. I didn’t do anything! Nothing! I got perfect grades that last year. I stopped partying. I did everything a perfect daughter could do, but none of it mattered. I should’ve gone the opposite. I should’ve partied or tried to kill myself. Good one, Mom. Maybe you knew what you were doing. If I’d done that, I might’ve gotten something from you. Maybe even a f**king hello in the morning!”

“Alexandra,” my father barked. “Get ahold of yourself.”

“I have.” I shook my head. The rage was in there. It was flying around, but it was starting to leave. That wasn’t right. I was supposed to have enough to last me weeks, but it was depleting fast. Then I felt Jesse’s hand over mine. He interlaced our fingers. When my parents saw the movement, their eyes widened and they both went still. They had no idea, but did it matter? I lifted our hands and asked, weakening by the second, “Does this make things different? Am I worth your love now because he loves me?”

My mother asked in a quiet tone, “He loves you?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter if he does or doesn’t? I live here. We’ve been together—”

“When?” my dad demanded.

I frowned. He couldn’t have been protective of me; it must’ve been for Jesse. He didn’t want me to infect his new favorite son. “Does that matter too?”

“When!?” he shouted now.

“Ethan’s funeral,” Jesse spoke for me. He drew closer. I felt him trying to nudge me behind him, but I stepped to the side. He wasn’t going to take them on for me. No way. This was my fight. I’d see this to the end.

My mother sucked in her breath. Again.

A fierce frown came over my father.

“Then Ethan’s birthday.”

“The anniversary of Ethan’s death,” Jesse added, throwing me a grin.

“After that it was more frequent. I was with him in Vegas last year. You guys came for the game, but I was there too. I stayed with him in his room.” My parents seemed to shrivel before me and I grinned. I was loving this effect on them. Any effect, any sign that I mattered, I wanted. It didn’t mean they still cared. I was a pest to them. It concerned my father that I could’ve been brought back into the family. He wanted me gone. My mother told the 911 operator the same sentiment. Her daughter was not to know anything. That’s when I asked, targeting her, “Did you really try to kill yourself?”

She flushed. Her head jerked down.

My father covered her hand with his. “Alex,” he warned me.

I ignored him. “You told the 911 operator that your daughter wasn’t supposed to know anything about what happened. The nurses said you hadn’t taken enough to kill yourself, only to go to sleep. They think it was a cry for help.” I frowned, pain flooding me once again. No. It hadn’t stopped. I was always in pain. They had broken me long ago. “Want to know what I think? I think you were giving yourself an excuse. Dad jumped on board. He whisked you away, for your safekeeping. You left me in the house alone, with Ethan.”

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