This chapter is dedicated to NatalieNas - thanks for all your support over these past years :)

11 - Everyone Has A Price

If Marcus thought the custody case would go away just because my mom moved back home, he had underestimated her. The battle is fierce which comes with certain perks. Alcohol is banned from the house and for the first time in years, my mother starts to take care of herself. The new morning routine starts off with her jogging, followed by a chipper family breakfast during which Marcus is usually not around, before it is finished off with her taking us to school. Her efforts nevertheless leave a stale taste in my mouth. I'm not sure if she's really trying to change or just putting on a big show for the courts.

After a few weeks, us kids are pulled into their mess when we are summoned to talk to the judge. That morning, I'm just about to get into my mother's minivan when Marcus appears out of nowhere, insisting I should ride with him. My mom's mumbled protest is cut short with one dark glare. As sole custodian, he could throw her out of the house and there's nothing she can do. Until the next hearing, the ball is in his court when it comes to decisions involving me and my siblings, a fact that he has been rubbing in her face whenever they argue.

"Let's grab a coffee on the way," he says as he starts the engine.

"Won't that make us late?"

"No, we got plenty of time."

"Okay." Stopping at Starbucks might be a nice distraction and I could even get one of those lemon muffins I like.

When we get there, he just gets himself a black coffee, but orders for me a white chocolate mocha and the lemon muffin without prompting. We settle at a small table by the window, far away and out of earshot from the few customers who have chosen to sit in.

"Do you know what will happen today?" he asks.

"Mom said the judge wants to talk to us."

"That's right." He sips slowly from his coffee without taking his eyes off me. "Since your brother and sister are so young, the judge will call you all into his chambers. You know him. It's Judge Oaks, the one who handled your adoption. The lawyers will be there as well, but I doubt they'll ask too many questions."

"Sounds easy enough." My eyes stray outside when I can't hold his intense stare. It has started to rain, the gray morning a reflection of my mood.

"Since you're the oldest, greater weight will be placed on your testimony. I need to know we're on the same page."

"What are you exactly expecting of me, Dad?"

He smiles when my focus returns to him. "You're almost an adult now, so I'll let you in on a little secret. Your mom doesn't care about you kids, for her, it's all about the money. She can't survive if she doesn't get custody since I wouldn't have to pay her child support."

I sip from the rim of my cup, careful that the hot drink doesn't burn my tongue. The child support aspect is something I never considered. Maybe my mother wouldn't be too bad off and we wouldn't have to move back to the projects.

"Do you know what a prenuptial agreement is, Patrice?"

I heard the terms in a few movies before, but never fully grasped the concept. "No, not really."

"It's something some spouses sign before they get married. Your mom and I have one. She agreed to forfeit any financial claim to my assets if we ever get divorced, meaning she will end up with nothing. The child support will only cover the basics if it has to fund a whole family. You'll have to make a lot of sacrifices."

"Can I stay in my school?"

His eyes are upon me as he slowly drinks from his cup. "Probably not. Rent in Winnetka is expensive and paying your tuition on top of that will be close to impossible. Besides, your mom will likely wanna move closer to your grandma's. She's gonna have to find a job, expecting you to babysit whenever she isn't home." He snorts. "And I mean, let's face it. We both know how she is. She'll neither be able to keep her legs closed nor keep her hands off the booze. The little bit of extra cash will be spent at the pub and guess who will be left to take care of Lamar and Alyssa?"

I drop my gaze. He is right. Even if we stayed around Winnetka, my mom would expect me to help around the house. My whole life would evolve around my family and the liberties I have like going to the movies or mall whenever I want to will be gone. Keeping up with my schoolwork will even be a challenge if I never have time enough to study. Those are sacrifices I'm not willing to make, not after my mom ignored this Marcus situation for over two years.

"Your life will totally change, Patrice, but not for the best. There won't be any trips to Europe, no credit card to buy the things you want. You will have to get a part-time job if you want to afford anything extra." His words are like salt, slowly rubbed in a growing slash. "Hell, you'll be lucky if you get to use your mom's car once in a while."

I stare at the sidewalk outside without even registering the pedestrians or cars passing by the window. The apprehension I felt in the shelter slowly gives way to fear. The memories of my childhood days when we were poor have always been like little, sharp thorns, poking at me when I got too happy. There's no way I ever want that life again. Living in a place like the projects would destroy me.

My mother's boyfriends back then had all been nasty, heavy drinkers like her, sometimes even drug addicts. She used to change them like underwear. Knowing her, she will continue her old pattern as soon as she is on her own again. Chances are that at least some of them will try to put their hands on me, men are all the same in that respect. The news reports are full incidences where men rape their girlfriend's daughters. Some of the girls are even severely beaten. Ever since the night we came home from the shelter, Marcus has kept his distance and maybe this whole touching thing is behind us.

"It might even get worse, Patrice. Your mom could easily break under the pressure and smoke crack again. Not sure if you still remember what that's like, but sooner or later, a neighbor or teacher will alert the authorities because you can't hide that type of drug abuse. The state will come and take you kids out of the home, but they won't put you in my care if your mom can prove the sexual abuse allegations. You'll end up with foster parents. That's how I grew up. It's no picnic."

I shudder when I picture the scars that are spread all over his body. He told me that one of his foster dads used to extinguish cigarettes on his skin and piss on his head. I wouldn't survive a home like that. My mom couldn't seriously expect me to take that chance.

"So what do I need to do?"

A slow smile sneaks on his lips. "Just tell the judge what kind of person your mom is, that she makes stuff up all the time. I mean, those blackouts she had over the years when she was drunk could have easily fried her brain. Hell, for all you know, she's hallucinating things. That's not even a lie."

I nod, that could work. It's maybe bending the truth a little, but my mom did invent plenty of stuff after her binge drinking sprees. Once, she had accused me of stealing money from her purse and another time she tried to ground me after claiming that she had seen me with a guy at a bar which had been absolutely ridiculous. No one will take her seriously if I don't back up her story.

"If I do this, there can never be anything between us anymore."

The coffee cup briefly halts on his lips before he lowers it. "If that's what you want."

"I mean it. If you ever touch me again, I will tell mom's lawyer."

"It's fine, Patrice. You have my word. And of course, I don't expect you to do this for free."

My eyebrows quirk.

"That camp you wanted to go to in New York next summer. Consider it done. We're in this together, Patrice. Your mom might be a lost cause, but I don't want the rest of our family to break apart. I love you guys."

Despite the sincerity in his eyes, my smile is tentative. There is this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I'm shoveling my own grave, but the prospect of the life I would face if my mom got custody drowns out the uneasy feeling. If he ever breaks his word, it will be easy squeal on him. Besides, helping him will give me some leverage to hold over his head. From now on, things will be different.

~~~~

My mom throws a hissy fit when she learns about my testimony to the judge which only gets her a punch in her ribs when her and Marcus argue that night. I couldn't care less, utter exhaustion sitting heavy in my bones. That bitch lawyer of hers had tried to trip me up with her questions, but I stuck to my guns and claimed that the sexual abuse never happened. It was a fabrication of my mother's unstable mind to get back at Marcus.

The judge still orders a psychological evaluation which lands me in front of Nathan Sullivan, PhD, two weeks later. From the first moment I lay eyes on him, I can't stand the man. He is the typical shrink with a fatherly grin who is trying to be my friend, just so I open up to him. I was forced to endure plenty of his kind as a child when I was living with my grandparents. They always betrayed my trust by blabbing to my mom and the social worker, so I doubt Dr. Sullivan will be any different.

"So Patrice, do you believe in happy endings?" he asks after we run through my basic bio.

I stare at him. What the fuck is his problem? I'm not some kindergartener he can impress with fairy tales.

When I don't respond, he elaborates. "I know you may find this question odd, but isn't it the fundamental belief of human nature? We thrive for happiness in everything we do. Take you, for example. Why do you go to school?"

"Because I have to?"

He smiles. "You phrased this as a question, so I take it that you're not sure. Let's analyze this. Some kids go to school because they have to, but others want to get good grades so they can get the job they want."

"I suppose."

"So what is it, Patrice? Do you go to school because you have to or because you want to find a job that makes you happy?"

"More the latter." I feel obliged to return his smile. Little does he know that he's already getting on my nerves.

"And what about your family life? Are you seeking out happiness there?"

"I guess."

"And are you happy?"

A hitch in my throat warns of imminent tears. He hit a nerve-and the worst thing is that he knows it. I'm so far from happiness, it's not even funny. "Sure, Dr. Sullivan, I'm happy." My gaze drops when his eyes keep drilling into me.

"You know, Patrice, we alone are responsible for our own happiness. If we don't like something, it is up to us to make a change."

"Even if that change might make us even more unhappy?"

He abruptly leans back in his chair with a grunt. "Ugh, that's a tough one. I guess sometimes it can be easier to choose the lesser of two evils."

I smile to myself, I got him there.

"But easier doesn't mean you should do it. Most of us are afraid of change because we're scared to make the wrong decision. What you need to remember is that we don't have a crystal ball, so there aren't any guarantees. All you can go by is the present, and if you're in a bad situation, it's up to you to get out of it. If you can't do it alone, there's always someone you can ask for help."

I find his eyes but remain quiet. He has no clue what he's talking about. With his fancy education, he has probably never set foot inside the projects or understands what it's like to live with a mother who cares more about her next fix than her kids. Marcus might have his faults, but he has always taken care of me and my siblings. We never lacked for anything.

"Let's not beat around the bush, Patrice. We both know why you're here. If your dad is sexually abusing you, you're not doing anyone a favor to cover for him. It's not your fault and you didn't do anything wrong."

I drop my gaze again, unable to keep eye contact. It seems he can see right into my heart. He will know that I'm lying just by looking at me.

"Marcus never did anything to me."

"Why are you calling him by his first name?"

"That's what I've always called him."

His smile is thin. "Earlier, you were referring to him as dad."

"That was when I told you about my childhood. Since I'm older, I call him Marcus." I hate how defensive I sound. There's no need for me to justify myself to him. He's nothing more than a court appointed shrink, trying to trick me.

"I see. What about your mom?"

"What about her?"

"Your dad said she's an alcoholic. Is that true?"

"Yeah, that's true. She also takes drugs sometimes." The lie runs almost flawlessly over my lips, only a slight shake in my voice could give me away. I don't think he notices.

"And you don't want to live with her if your parents divorce?"

I shake my head.

The moment of silence is nerve wrecking.

"Okay, I think that's enough for today."

My eyes narrow. "I don't understand. I thought this was a onetime thing."

"No, Patrice. In order to give my court a full report, we need to have a few sessions." He smiles that fatherly smile. "I mean, we're just getting to know each other. There's still tons of stuff we need to talk about."

"Like what?"

He ignores the question, pulling his appointment book closer. "How about next week at the same time?"

"Sure." If he wants to waste his time, so be it. No way I'll ever change my story. Too much is riding on this. I'm not willing to throw away my life to take my chances with a druggy mother.

As I watch him scribble in his book, a smile curls my lips. Two years I endured Marcus's abuse, and by god, with the help of Doctor Sullivan, payback will be a bitch. If Marcus thinks that he can get away with paying for my summer camp, he has something else coming. Each appointment is going to cost him. Hell, by the end of this, I might even have a new car.

"Remember Patrice, if a man touches you against your will, it's rape. It's one of the worst things that can happen to a woman and you owe it to yourself to remove yourself from that situation if your dad is doing this to you."

"I know, Doctor Sullivan." This time, I gaze him straight in the eyes. "But I can assure you, my dad never touched me." That's my story, at least for this week. It'll be up to Marcus for it to stay that way.

I know you might not be a big fan of Patrice right now, but unfortunately, she is blinded by her materialistic needs, together with a big dose of selfishness. Don't forget, those characteristics have always been displayed by the role models around her. Of course, a rude awakening is just around the corner.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and getting to see a little more about Doc - from a time line, we are in mid December the year before Rena killed Brent - they are off to the Canary Islands during their last honeymoon phase.

Don't forget the little star if the chapter deserved it and I would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading and hopefully, this next chapter will be out before you know it. Time to move on to Road To Recovery , so I will try to keep up with the posting :)