Page 31 of Heavy
I don’t need either of them jumping to my defense. “No, parole isn’t for someone like me, I’m afraid.”
She tilts her head, and I can see the attorney in her. I’m about to destroy her little fragile self if she continues.
“Why is that?”
I laugh without any humor, shaking my head. “Parole is for those deemed worthy of help. Those who aren’t offered thatgiftare just expected to screw up and end up right back in.”
Cal shifts beside me, clearly uncomfortable.
“That isn’t right.” I’m not surprised at Jasmine’s dismissal. “I can look into it for you and see—”
“I don’t need you to do anything for me.” I deliver the statement slowly, and methodical, so she doesn’t miss a single letter. “I’m not here for help, or to tell you how fucked up our system is. I’m here for free food, and because my brother feels this will begin ourhealing process.”
But oh, how fucking wrong he is.
“The chicken came out lovely,” Eamon says, trying to cut into the tiff.
I push my plate back and rest my elbows on the table, propping my chin on the back of my laced fingers. I narrow my eyes at Jasmine, waiting for her to continue. It’s like everyone thinks they know what’s best for me and feels entitled to offer their unsolicited advice.
“You had to expect I’d ask. Now that you know where we live, I’m just trying to keep my family safe.”
Safe, huh?
“Why the fuck did you agree to it then?” Cal nearly screams, and a chill runs down the side of my body closest to her. “You’re being a cunt, Mother.”
“Wow, sweetheart, I’m not—”
“Yes you are, and you are embarrassing me, and Eamon!”
I don’t feel anything, currently, other than my cock growing because of her elevated tone. Everything is public information, especially for a lawyer. I have no doubt she’s already looked up my history. Maybe she hasn’t gone deep enough, or perhaps she has and that’s the reason for this aggression. Because who in their right mind would want such heavy baggage weighing down their perfect little family?
I hum. “All good, Mrs. Byrne. If I really cared to know where you lived, I’d have looked it up. After all… I’m a criminal, I’m pretty good at doingbad things.”
“I’m just saying that with your history, I have to—”
“Mother, stop.” Calista needs to settle down or it will look strange that she’s defending me. Even I find myself oddly intrigued. Why does she care?
“Honey.” Eamon leans into her and places an arm over her shoulder. “He isn’t that type of criminal. Don’t pass judgement.”
That type of criminal—thanks, Bro.
I’ve often wondered if my brother would ever have the courage to reveal the truth about why I ended up in prison at seventeen and was tried as an adult. Clearly, he hasn’t. I can’t help but think it might be out of shame for dismissing me like everyone else did.
Looking at him, I see our dad, and a wave of hatred flashes across my eyes. It’s a shadow of darkness, it’sevil, reminding me that I will always be the outcast. Always the one that fucked up because I never spoke up sooner.
I hate him—no, I hate all of them. Every man in my life who was supposed to be a pillar of strength and fortitude has played a part in my destruction, shaping me into thistype of criminal.
Jasmine pulls me from my rage by excessively sticking her fork into a piece of meat. As I look at her, she forces a smile at me. “No judgement, just curious if you were put on parole after you were released the first time.” Her tone is smooth yet undeniably patronizing, tinged with that rich, privileged air.
“That’s it.” Calista slams her hands onto the table. “You are such a hypocrite, Mother. Drilling him when you are—”
“Calista!” Jasmine raises her voice over her daughter’s.
That’s my cue.
“I’ll see myself out,” I say while standing.
I’m not one to hit women, but my patience has its limits. It’s not so much about how she’s treating me; it’s more for Cal’s sake. If they start a heated argument, the only person I’ll be defending is that blonde-haired Barbie doll, and explaining why I care will be a whole other challenge.
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