This chapter is dedicated to ArcticPhoenix91  - thanks for your support :)

34 – The Biggest Mistake of My Life

Charlotte's POV

Ryan was still at his parents when we got home. Brent had screamed all the way from the pharmacy and my nerves were on the brink of tearing to shreds. On top of that, Jared started to nag that he was starving as soon as we walked through the door, insisting on getting a hot dog.

"I don't have any hot dogs," I told him. With a huff, I pulled the strands of my hair back that had become loose. The scrunchie snapped in half when I tried to force my mane into some type of order. "Shit."

Jared stared at me with his mouth open. "That's a bad word, Mommy."

I took a deep breath. "I know. Forget that I said that."

He mumbled something under his breath that almost sounded like a threat.

I ignored him when my full attention was diverted to the struggling baby in the car seat. The crying had given Brent a bad hiccup and he was a pitiful sight. Beet red and with swollen cheeks, he actually looked like he was in pain. When I touched his forehead, he was burning up.

"I have to give your brother his medicine and maybe he can sleep then." My hand absentmindedly stroked over Jared's head. "I'll fix your lunch as soon as Brent settles down."

He let out a whine. "But I'm hungry now." Brent was graced with the evil eye. "It's always him who is more important. You don't even love me."

"Jared, that's not true." I tried to reach for him, but he slapped my hand away.

"I hate you." He stomped his foot, his eyes full of anger. "And I hate him." His little finger pointed at his brother. The rage poured out of him and in that moment, I would not have left him alone with the baby.

"Jared, calm down. I love you just as much as Brent and you have to stop being so mean to him."

He kicked hard against the car seat with his brother on the floor, sending the seat into a spin. Brent's scream reached new proportions.

"That's enough." Before I could help it, I slapped Jared across the face. "Stop it."

His eyes filled with tears as he clutched his cheek. "You're just as mean as Daddy."

The words hurt me to the core. I had never hit him before and felt immediately rotten as big crocodile tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Jared, come here." I stretched out my arms for him. "Mommy's so sorry."

"No." Under loud wailing, he took off, storming up the steps. The banging of a door confirmed that he was hiding out in his room.

When something hot ran along my jaw, I realized that I had started to cry. For a second, I was ready to give up and just walk out the door. I could call Ryan and let him deal with his kids. Only the fear that he would beat Jared to death stopped me.

With a sigh, I grabbed the car seat and brought it up to Brent's room. After changing his diaper, I forced the baby Tylenol down his throat under loud protest. Feeding him his bottle, I rocked back and forth in the nursing chair, pricking my ears for a sound from Jared's room. All stayed quiet. Brent's eyelids began to flutter as the medicine was taking effect. I plopped the bottle out of his mouth when his suckles became infrequent, replacing it with his pacifier. By the time I tucked him into his crib, he was sound asleep.

I tiptoed out of the room and checked on Jared. His whole room looked like a tornado had torn through it. All the stuffed animals were scattered across the floor after he apparently smashed them against the wall. One of his teddies was missing an arm.

Jared laid still on the bed on his stomach, his fingers clutched around the paw of his monkey. He must have run out of energy. His chest was rising and falling evenly and I retreated silently.

With both kids asleep, I could finally take a deep breath. I poured myself a glass of red wine despite the early hour to calm my shattered nerves, brooding over what I needed to do for the rest of the afternoon. The fridge was stacked but for hot dogs and maybe I should quickly run to the store to pick up a pack after Ryan returned.

On cue, his keys turned in the door. "Honey, I'm home," echoed through the house.

I closed my eyes when Brent's scream followed. Ryan had never understood that a quiet house meant a few stolen moments of peace for me, announcing his arrival just as loud as he did before we had the kids. A few times, we quarreled about it which ended in a beating, so I had stopped asking him to keep his voice down.

"Isn't it a little early for alcohol," he asked when he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes fixed on the wine glass.

"Yeah, I suppose." I poured the wine into the sink under his disapproving glare. "I better check on Brent."

With a grunt, he let me pass. "Hurry back. I'm hungry."

Luckily, the baby settled back down after a couple of minutes when I stuck the pacifier back into his mouth. Brent's lips were firmly sucking while he drooled in his sleep. It was adorable.

I peeked in Jared's room, but he hadn't moved. Once he was out, a bomb could explode next to him and he wouldn't wake up. I heard Ryan rummage in the kitchen. If I didn't get down there fast, he would start an argument and wake up both kids.

He had poured himself a glass of juice, sipping from it with a sullen expression when I walked back into the kitchen.

"Would you like a sandwich?" I asked him.

"I guess a tuna melt would be okay," he said.

I almost rolled my eyes at him. Of all the sandwiches to pick, it had to be a complicated one that required me to use the grill. For once, could it just not have been bologna and mayo.

He watched me while I sliced the tomatoes. "Any more problems with Jared?"

I glanced up, unsure how much to tell him. "I think he was just tired. He's asleep now."

"He knows he can get away with it when he's with you." He puckered his lips. "You need to be stricter, Charlotte. Children need to know their boundaries."

I wanted to tell him that he was strict enough for the both of us, but that would have been pointless. If the kids misbehaved, it was always my fault. Ryan never took responsibility for anything.

"I think I should have a serious talk with him when he wakes up," he continued. "He has to learn that there are consequences if he acts up. His jealousy of Brent is excessive."

"Maybe we should consider therapy?" I carefully bring up.

He laughs. "That would be like admitting failure – Ryan Parks not able to handle his own son. I don't think so. I'd be the laughing stock at work."

"But if he needs it."

"Charlotte, look at me." The venom in his voice made my head snap up. "Jared does not need therapy. I'll take care of it."

All I can do was nod when my focus returned to the tomatoes. "It's New Year's Eve. Can't it wait for a few days. Maybe he straightens up on his own." I gazed at him. "I mean, you yourself said it's just a phase."

"I'll think about it."

I could barely stifle a triumphant grin as I grabbed the can of tuna from the pantry. This would give me an opportunity to talk to Jared and stress the importance of behaving if he didn't want to endure his father's punishment.

I mixed the mayo with the tuna and aligned the tomatoes slices and cheese on the bread exactly the way Ryan liked it before placing it under the grill. His fingers were drumming on the counter the entire time while his eyes burned in my back. He was probably furious that it took so long.

"Mommy, can I have some juice?" came Jared's small voice from the doorway.

I turned to look at him with a smile. His hair was all tousled, his cheeks still red from his sleep.

"Sure honey, just one second." Under Ryan's glare, I checked the sandwich before getting a glass from the cabinet. "Apple or Orange."

"Apple, please." He cautiously walked over to the counter, his eyes on his father. He was possibly trying to figure out what mood he was in. "Thanks, Mommy," he said when he took the glass from me. "Can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?"

"Sure thing." I was already reaching for the bread when Ryan jumped in.

"How about I take you to McDonalds?"

Jared's shiny eyes darted from his face to mine. "Can Mommy come?"

"Sorry, son" –he stroked through Jared's hair in a combing motion– "but she has to stay with Brent."

"Oh, okay." He bit his lip. "Can I get a milkshake?"

"Of course." Ryan beamed at him as he extended his hand. "Let's go."

When the front door closed behind them, I turned back to the stove. Careful not to burn myself, I pulled out the tray and tossed the sandwich into the bin. I hated tuna. To add injury to insult, Brent's piercing scream drifted through the house. That signaled the end of my lunch break.

xxxx

Jared returned without fresh bruises and in the best of spirits. After McDonalds, Ryan had taken him to the park and tossed a football around with one of his buddies. My son's cheeks were flushed as he stormed into the kitchen with sparkling eyes.

"I tackled Daddy!" he yelled while climbing onto the bar stool.

"Excellent." I smiled at him. "I'm glad you had such a nice time, honey."

"Yes." He twisted his lips. "And I'm sorry for being bad this morning. Is Brent all better?"

My eyes moved to the little electric swing in which the baby rocked back and forth. His forehead was wrinkled with a deep frown. His cheeks were not as red and swollen, but he still looked miserable.

"A little, I think."

"Good." Jared jumped down from the stool. "Can I play upstairs with my choo choo train?"

"Of course. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

He zoomed out of the kitchen with outstretched arms just like he did this morning in the waiting area, but it looked cute this time. In the doorway, he almost bumped into Ryan.

"Watch it there, Jared," he grumbled.

My heart sank into my stomach. I had hoped he would be in an equally good mood as his son, but judging from the darkness in his gray eyes, someone had managed to piss him off.

"Guess who I met when I was just leaving the park," he said, slamming a tumbler on the counter, followed by the bottle of scotch.

I shrugged without responding, knowing he was not actually expecting input from me.

"It was Tony. He said that Maria complained that I was a sexist pig." He poured the whiskey to the rim. "Bitch asked for a transfer."

"Well, isn't that good? At least you got rid of her."

He had whined about Maria for months, calling it a disgrace that they had made a woman his temporary boss after the old team leader retired.

"No Charlotte, it's not good." He downed half the glass in one go, his eyes drilling into me. "Now, I not only have to justify myself in writing which will take forever, but this could leave a permanent mark on my record if they believe her over me. It's a hassle I don't need." The rest of the scotch disappeared down his throat.

"Well, I'm sorry."

He slammed the glass on the counter. "Are you trying to be smart?" His eyes were already bloodshot. He could never handle liquor well and was a lousy drunk.

"I really am sorry," I mumbled, holding my breath when he shot up.

He slowly stalked over to me like a hunter approaching his prey. "I think you were being smart." When he halted in front of me, his shoulders straightened.

My gaze dropped. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I didn't mean anything by it."

He clutched my hair and forced me to look at him. The viciousness in his eyes sent a shudder down my spine.

"You've been smart with me all day," he hissed. "Don't think for one second that I didn't notice that you've been covering for Jared." He smirked. "Is the love for your son so unconditional that you'd risk a beating?" He jerked my head back when I didn't immediately reply. "Answer me."

"I would die for my children," I pressed through gritted teeth. His face blurred as tears began to rise. "Not that you'd understand."

A metallic taste flooded my mouth when my head slammed against the kitchen island. My fingers ran instinctively over my lips – they were coated with blood.

"Take off your blouse and get on the floor," he yelled. His fingers teared frantically at the buckle of his belt.

Cold sweat formed on my upper lip as I pulled my shirt over my head. I got down on my knees, hiding my face in the crooks of my elbows. The belt ate into me before I could take my next breath.

"Count," he demanded.

"One."

The buckle hit me with the next blow. I cried out before pressing a "two" through my tears.

The belt came down again. "Three," I sobbed. My back was on fire, the pain worse in places where blue and green spots were still decorating my body from his last punishment.

He eased up after twenty-five blows, dropping his pants instead. Mounting me from the back, he took me in his favorite position, pushing my face against the cool tiles of the kitchen floor while enjoying his dominance.

When he was done, he sat back onto the bar stool, pouring himself another drink. "Clean up this mess before going upstairs."

I gazed around. Streaks of blood were smeared onto the white kitchen tiles, some red dots on the island and the fridge. I groaned while I pulled myself on my feet, limping over to the sink to get a rag. My breath was shallow while I fought the nausea. Like a robot, I wiped over the floor and the appliances until everything was sparkly clean. Sharp pain stabbed at my body with every move.

"I'll be upstairs," I mumbled as I staggered by him.

"Uhum." He was sipping his drink without even looking at me. At the rate he was going, he would be totally wasted in an hour.

When I got to my bedroom, I observed the damage in the mirror. Red lines were all over my back and were turning into welts. My lip was split, but otherwise, there was no mark on my face. As usual, his violence could be mostly hidden from view.

I turned on the shower, first cleaning myself thoroughly between my legs before allowing the cold water to cool my bruises. Mechanically, I dabbed myself dry, careful not to apply too much pressure with the towel. Some Vaseline on my lips soothed the cut, followed by four painkillers that I washed down with tab water.

I laid still on the bed on my side, closing my eyes to let the medicine do the trick. Just ten minutes of rest and I should be as good as new.

xxxx

I had to have dozed off because it was already dark when Brent's piercing scream woke me. Jumping out of bed, I hissed when the pain reminded me of my prior beating. I rushed into Brent's room. His face was red and swollen, his fists balling while he screamed at the top of his lungs. I held the back of my hand to his forehead – he was burning up.

I inserted the baby thermometer into his ear – one hundred and five. That was even higher than this morning.

"Ryan," I called, tearing Brent out of bed. Hugging him close to my chest, I ran downstairs. He wiggled in my arms, totally hysterical.

It was dark in the kitchen and when I switched on the light, Ryan was blinking at me from the bar stool. His cheek was red where he laid on the kitchen island. The bottle next to him was as good as empty.

"What's wrong?" he slurred.

"Brent has a really high temperature. We have to take him to the hospital."

A heavy breath left his mouth and I shied back from the stench of alcohol that was surrounding him.

"No way," he said. "I'm too drunk to drive and you look a total mess. Put the boy in a cold bath. That'll bring the fever down in no time."

"But the doctor said–."

"I don't care what the doctor said," he snapped. "Do what you're being told, woman."

I took flight under his furious glare. My eyes searched for the clock on the wall – it was almost midnight. It would be impossible to get a cab and I was too shaken up to drive. I would try the bath first, but if the temperature didn't go down significantly, I would call an ambulance.

With shaking hands, I turned on the faucet. Cool water spilled into the tub. Brent was wiggling on the bathmat next to me. His breath was raspy and I realized that his neck was also swollen under his ears.

Deciding to call the hospital, I rushed back to my room to get my cell. I was just connecting to the operator of the information hotline when a piercing scream broke the silence of the house which ended just moments later like someone had cut it off.

I sprinted back into the bathroom. A horrible sight awaited me. Jared was on his knees, his body halfway hanging into the bathtub. When I took a step closer, I realized that he was holding a struggling Brent under water with all his strength.

"Jared, what are you doing?" I shrieked.

When I pushed him aside to grab Brent, his head hit the wall. His cry mixed with Brent's gasps for air that turned into a loud squeal.

"Hell, what is all this ruckus?" Ryan yelled from the doorway. "I'm trying to go to sleep."

"Jared tried to drown Brent in the tub," I muttered in between sobs. I cradled my baby in my arms, stroking over his back. "It's okay, honey. Shh, Mommy is here."

I just heard a growl as Jared was snatched off the ground. "You no good piece of shit!" Ryan shouted into his son's face.

The last thing I registered were Jared's wide eyes as Ryan dragged him from the room. In that moment, I didn't care what his father did to him. It would turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life. 

Okay guys, at this point, we will say goodbye to Charlotte's POV. The last two chapters will be written from Rena's perspective since she is the primary heroine of this story.

How did this chapter work for you? We all have a pretty good idea what happened next. As you can imagine, the guilt over her son's death has been eating at Charlotte ever since. The blame is also a reason why she never spoke up.

Please share your thoughts and don't forget to vote if this chapter deserved it. Thanks for reading - I would have probably already given up without your support :)