This chapter is dedicated to MissMDL - thank you so much for all your support :)

For all of you who don't remember: Kerry is Marcus's ex-girlfriend who he is still in love with, she also works for Chicago PD.

9 – Two Versions of the Truth

My hips move gently up and down with my back slightly arched backwards, my eyes tightly closed to endure the moment. Lately, I've found that imagining sex with boys from my school, who I find attractive, helps me to get through the ordeal with Marcus.

Today it's Tray Hammlin, sixth period Biology on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He sits right in front of me, his thick, dark curls a constant temptation for my fingers to run through. My nails scrape over Marcus's coarse hair, almost destroying the fantasy. I moan when I envision Trevor's full lips sucking my heat.

"Patrice, have you seen—"

My eyes fly wide open when my mother takes in a sharp breath in the same moment Marcus stills underneath me. The air is sucked from the room as she is frozen on the threshold of my room, her mouth hanging ajar like someone unhinged the bone from her jaw. I guess someone forgot to look the door.

"You son of a bitch. What the fuck are you doing to Patrice?" Her voice is shriller than ever before. The shock on her face is replaced by confusion before her full anger is unleashed on him.

"You fucking bastard. She told me you were touching her, but like an idiot, I believed your innocent act. Get off of her, you pig."

Technically, the last part is directed at me since I'm the one on top, but who is counting. Instinctively, I know that this will turn ugly and I'd better get away before I get pulled into a physical altercation. With one leap, I jump off the bed, just ducking under my mother's fist who is taking a swing at her husband.

"Chantal, calm down," is the last thing I hear before the bathroom door slams closed behind me. Let them work it out.

I slide down to the ground with my back against the wall when my knees turn into jelly. Staring at the little tiles on the floor, I start counting the blue ones to keep my mind from the screaming on the other side of the door. The yelling swells proportionally to my growing anguish. Fearful tears well in my eyes when Marcus shouts that I was the one coming on to him. What if my mom believes him? Yet, if she doesn't, he'll take his anger out on me. Sufferance will take on a whole new meaning.

When my mom's cussing becomes more creative, Marcus silences her with a few punches of his own. The commotion dies down. Once there isn't a sound outside the bathroom door, I carefully peek into my room. Hugging her knees in front of my bed, my mother silently sobs into her knees. Marcus has vanished.

I squat next to her after sliding on my bathrobe. "Mom? Are you okay?"

My hand halts midway to her shoulder when she raises her head. Her whole face is smeared, blood still trickling from her mouth and nose.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't believe you."

Her eyes are unfocused—a sign of a possible concussion. What is visible of her face is twisted in pain, her chest only rising and falling a little.

Tears flood my eyes. "It's okay, Mom. Just please, don't pass out." The thought of her going to the hospital, leaving me alone in the house with Marcus, is terrifying. Will he blame me for my mother's discovery? No matter what, he is mad as hell and his anger will be taken out on someone.

"Get me a wet towel, Patrice." Her eyelids flutter, her face contorted in torment with every syllable she mumbles. Her breath is raspy, blood curling on her lips every time she exhales.

Even without a medical degree, I can tell something is seriously wrong. "Mom, let me take you to the hospital."

Lamar and Alyssa will just have to tag along, there's no way I will leave them here alone. I rummage through my drawers, finding something suitable to wear. In the end, I settle on a simple football jersey and some sweats.

"Alyssa." My voice echoes through the house before her small face peeks around the door. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. She was probably listening in on the fight from inside the closet in the hallway. It's her favorite hiding place.

"Is Mom okay?" she whispers, her wide eyes scanning over our mother. Fresh tears spill from her eyes when mom groans in pain.

"Do you know where Dad is?" I'm surprised he hasn't made a reappearance, threatening us the way he usually does when things get out of hand.

"He left." She steps inside the room when I try to heave mom up.

My arm slides under my mother's armpits as we take a few wobbly steps together. After what seems like an eternity, I manage to get her to the top of the stairs. "Get Lamar ready. I got mom."

Alyssa nods and takes off down the hallway.

"Mom, hold on to the bannister."

With great effort, I haul my mother down the steps. By the time we reach the garage, she is hanging onto my neck, her feet constantly tripping over each other. Maybe I should call an ambulance.

Alyssa appears with her hand clutched around Lamar's wrist who is being unwillingly dragged behind her.

"I wanna watch Thomas Chu Chu," he whines when Alyssa lifts him into his car seat and straps him in.

"Later, Lamar, I promise." My smile is automatic, my mind already pondering how to get mom into the car without causing her more pain. Alyssa comes to my aid and guides her head when we slide her in the passenger seat.

The whole way to the hospital, I fight the temptation to run every red light. When we finally get there, hot tears are bitten back as the nurses wheel her away. There is so much blood that her features are barely recognizable.

"Wait out here," I'm instructed before the door to the examination room closes in my face.

The next hours are excruciating. It's an especially busy evening in the ER and most of the time, I'm ignored. Once a young doctor comes out and reassures me that my mom will be okay, but he refuses to tell me anything specifics about her condition since I'm nothing but a child in his eyes.

Finally, a woman dressed in a business suit steers right toward me. Since she is still wearing her overcoat, I doubt she belongs to the hospital staff, but at least she appears to have some answers.

"Hello Patrice, my name is Pam Fallon." She smiles when her words are met by my frown. "I'm your mom's lawyer."

I didn't even know my mother had a lawyer. "Can you tell me how my mom is?"

"I've briefly spoken to her after the police called me. She got a couple of broken ribs, one of them punctured her lung." When I take in a sharp breath, she adds, "Don't worry, you brought her here just in time. She's gonna be fine."

I lower my gaze, afraid to ask my next question. "Why are the cops involved?" Marcus will probably beat her to death once he finds out.

"Your mom pressed charges against your dad for assault. I filed an emergency protection order and he's not allowed around you." Her hand encloses mine when she notices my hesitant smile. "For now, we have decided not to push the issue with you and your dad. You had to deal with enough. Your mom asked me to take you over to your grandparents. You'll live there for a while until we can figure this out."

"When can I see my mom?"

"Tomorrow. She's resting comfortably, but is too tired to have visitors."

I bite my lip, unsure whether to buy her last statement. My mother is probably blaming me for what happened and believing Marcus that I have been coming on to him. Why else wouldn't she tell the cops what he has been doing to me?

With slumped shoulders, I follow Pam to her car while she chitchats with Lamar and Alyssa. They soak up every word she says, totally content to leave the hospital without seeing mom. Though Pam seems nice enough, it stings that my mother confided in a total stranger while leaving me in the dark. She could've told me that she had hired a lawyer.

I brood on my way to my grandparents, my mind racing a hundred miles per hour. Every bone is my body is heavy with exhaustion, but this inner unrest radiates from my chest and twitches in my muscles. My eyelids weigh a ton, but I'm hesitant to close my eyes, scared that my life won't even be recognizable once I wake up. My grandparents live on the other side of Chicago, miles away from Winnetka. How will I even get to school? I have a Spanish test tomorrow I cannot miss. This is all getting really complicated. In the blink of an eye, my whole life has come apart at the seams.

My grandma is already waiting for us and she and mom's lawyer disappear in the living room while I'm stuck with getting Alyssa and Lamar ready for bed. My grandpa is in the kitchen, fixing tea, and for whatever reason, ignores me. When Lamar starts to wine again about that stupid Thomas, the Tank Engine show, I almost slap him. Alyssa is not much better, obsessing that she doesn't have her toothbrush. By the time I tuck them into bed, my knees tremble and I can barely bite back the tears.

Just as I'm closing the door to the guest bedroom, loud banging on the front door shakes the house.

"Open the fucking door."

The ugly fury in Marcus's words finally releases the tears. My whole body shakes so hard that I have to hold on to the bannister for balance. To my horror, my grandpa removes the chain from the door and turns the key. The door is almost ripped off its hinges when Marcus pushes it open.

"Where are they, Charles?" he hisses at my grandpa.

"The kids are here, but Chantal is in the hospital." Grandpa's voice drops a few octaves. "You need to calm down. That bitch lawyer that Chantal hired is with Lenora in the living room."

"Fucking great." Marcus eyes dart around, landing on me. A vicious twitch sneaks on his lips, he would lash out at me if my grandpa wasn't around. Instinctively, my head pulls in between my shoulders.

On cue, the living room opens. Pam Fallon looks calm as she steps into the hallway, her gaze briefly meeting mine. My grandma halts on the threshold, a vile look first grazing her husband before settling on her son-in-law. Her arms fold across her chest—she is thoroughly pissed.

"There's a protection order, Marcus," Pam says. "You shouldn't be here. You got thirty seconds to walk out that door or I will call the cops."

His finger shoots up, stopping just inches away from her nose. "This is not over. The stunt you pulled with the emergency petition was below the belt. A call would have sufficed as a professional courtesy."

"I don't show favors in domestic violence situations. Now leave." Pam's glare is as unyielding as his. Obviously, she isn't used to backing down and I'm glad she is my mom's attorney.

"Now, Mrs. Fallon, this is my house and my son-in-law is always welcome." My grandpa steps between the fighting lawyers. "I don't stand for this type of nonsense. My daughter has a filthy mouth and I know for a fact that she has also gotten physical with Marcus. He was probably just defending himself. The allegation that he touched Patrice is ludicrous. He would never do nothing to that girl."

The silence that follows my grandpa's words crushes my chest. Tears drip off my chin and I quickly wipe my face with the back of my hand before spinning on my heels and storming off to the second guest room. I knew no one would believe me. Just as before, Marcus will get away with beating my mom. Justice is not meant for my family, not as long as Marcus runs our lives. He is just too strong to oppose.

~~~~

The next morning, my grandma takes me to school. We ride in silence the whole way to Winnetka, my eyes mostly fixed on the trees outside that rush by the window on the highway. I'm scared to ask her what happened with Marcus last night after I hid in bed with the blanket over my head.

Classes go by in a blur and I even turn in a blank sheet of paper for my Spanish test. The worry how my family will cope is consuming me, my brain unable to form even one coherent thought. Questions pile up in my head to which I have no answer. Will Marcus have to spend some time in jail? If so, what are we going to do about money? Will we have to move back to the projects if my mom can't find a decent job? The last thought is absolutely terrifying. My whole future is fucked up and I can surely forget about college.

I ignore the nagging voice that I will have to testify against my dad, but not only that. Having been around Marcus and his cases long enough, I know that a psychologist will interview me and after that, my mom will insist on therapy. That would be such a drag. It will be painful to talk to strangers about the things he did to me, especially since they'll just go through the motions. Deep down, they won't believe a word I say.

With a sigh, I pick up my backpack after my last class, dreading to go back to my grandparents. Since Marcus's visit last night, the atmosphere has been lethal. Grandma and grandpa have just glared at each other without speaking a word, the rift between them something else I caused. They probably hate me.

The breeze blowing off the lake is refreshing. I inhale deeply, enjoying the few rays of sunshine that break through the scattered clouds. My eyes search around for my grandma's car, but she is late. Traffic can be bad in the afternoons. I'm just about to find a comfortable spot on the steps to wait for her when I notice a familiar face. The spit dries up in my mouth.

Without hesitation, she walks over to me, a small smile, which could easily be mocking, playing on her lips. "Hi Patrice, do you remember me? I'm Kerry, your dad's friend."

"Ugh, yeah." My cheeks flush when she keeps staring at me without breaking eye contact. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to talk to you." Her eyes briefly scan some of the younger students who have settled in their usual spots outside, waiting for friends or parents to pick them up. "Let's take a walk."

Unsure if I should talk to her without my mom's lawyer, I frown. "And if I don't want to?"

Her chin juts at a cop car that is parked at the curb by my school. "You see that officer. He has instructions to take you in if you don't cooperate. We can do this here or at the station. Makes no difference to me."

The smile has vanished and there's no doubt she's telling the truth. Even though I can't figure out why a cop would want to arrest me, I'm not eager to find out. Tossing my long, dark hair over my shoulder, my chin rises as high as I can muster. I'm determined to show her that her words don't rattle me. "Fine."

We stroll away from the school before she breaks the pressing silence that has settled over us. "So the police was able to clear up the misunderstanding with your mom. Of course now the cops are eager to find out who beat her up since it couldn't have been your dad. So far, only a few know the truth. I was hoping you could talk to your mom—tell her that her story won't stick and that you're in trouble. Hopefully, she will drop the charges."

As she was talking, my steps have faltered more and more. With a wrinkled forehead, I stare at her. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Patrice, don't play games. Your dad told me everything."

My eyebrows furrow even more. "What exactly did he tell you?"

Both her hands come to rest on my shoulders as her blue eyes cut into me—they are as cold as a winter's breath. "We both know you've been violent toward your mom. I mean, I totally get it. I was a difficult teenager myself. Even stole money once from my mother's purse to buy cigarettes. It's tough when you're sixteen. I'm sure you didn't mean for things to get out of hand last night."

My jaw drops. That's the most outrageous lie—Marcus will not get away with this. "I never hit my mom. My sister knows and will confirm that. My dad has been beating my mother up for years."

"Stop with the theatrics, Patrice. No matter what your sister says, she's too young to be taken seriously. Marcus was with me last night, got to my house right after work, and didn't leave until after he was served with the protection order. There's no way he could have beaten up your mom. You were the only other person in the house other than your siblings and with your anger management issues, it's only plausible that you were the one who hurt her."

Her words are like a blow to my chest. "But that's a lie."

"That's the statement I gave to the police." A vicious smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "I'm a Chicago PD Captain. Who do you think my colleagues will believe? Your mom won't be able to help you—she's an alcoholic and totally unstable. When you go through blackouts like she does, you have no recollection of what really transpired and it's easy to convince yourself of all kinds of humbug. Hell, for all I know, she's a danger to herself. Maybe a mental institution would be best for her. Those types of stays can take a while."

The air deflates out of me like she just popped a balloon. Despite the crisp air, the street around me is spinning. Who am I trying to fool? Her story will stick and I'll be the one totally screwed by the system. Juvie is not a place I'd survive.

"What do you need me to do?" My fingers rake through my hair, fresh tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Every breath hurts in my chest; if I don't sit down soon, I will throw up.

"Talk to your mom and make sure she drops the charges. I'll take care of the rest."

"Can I go home then?" A shudder runs through me when I imagine Marcus's gloating victory face.

"Yes, Patrice." Her smile is genuine this time. "Everything will go back to the way it was. It'll be like this unfortunate incident never happened."

So Kerry intervenes and just as before, she gets Marcus out of a bind. Powerful team. Do you think Patrice has a chance against those two? It seems like every time she gains some ground, they are there to beat her down.

I hope this chapter also explains how Marcus could get away with domestic violence for all these years and keep up the impeccable image required for a Deputy District Attorney. Kerry will also make a reappearance in Road to Redemption which will immediately follow this story. 

Please share your thoughts and don't forget the little star if the chapter deserved it. Thanks for sticking with this story :)