PAST

Even after Mom had gotten home, she hadn't told me the other part of the story until the following day.

It had taken Mom a few days before she was brave enough to tell the cops, and when they got involved, they wanted to do an investigation. Paul claimed that it was all a lie. He said that when Mom found out about his engagement, she got jealous that he wanted to stop seeing her and made up a lie to get revenge.

Then he threw in the whole secret relationship thing, and slowly, it all blew up in Mom's face. With the power the Cambridges held, they wanted to drag Mom through the dirt. It didn't matter if she had been telling the truth or not. They only cared about their image.

Mom had been planning to find a lawyer who would take her case pro-bono, but the Cambridges' lawyers called her in for a meeting before she could.

They told her that she wouldn't win the case because of Paul's evidence. They said they would pay her off if she dropped it and moved on. She had trouble deciding right away and consulted with her parents. They told her to end the drama quickly and save face while she could.

Taking that money was like saying that Paul was innocent and Mom was a liar who had orchestrated the whole thing.

I'd been boiling mad, to the point where I slammed my fist on the dining table and nearly stalked off. But I knew that would have made Mom feel worse than she already did, so I toned it down and put on a mask of pure calmness.

No one had believed her. Not the group of people she called friends, not her parents, and certainly, not law enforcement. The only person in her corner was her big brother, and if you could get prison time for merely envisioning all the laws you so desperately wanted to break, my uncle would have been locked up for life.

I was glad he wasn't as impulsive as me.

Mom found out she was pregnant with me about eight weeks later, but of course, she didn't tell Paul or his despicable family. She had told my grandparents, but they didn't want anything to do with her by then. Rumors had spread about the drama surrounding the Cambridges, and Mom was an embarrassment.

My grandparents kicked her out, and she lived with my uncle for a while. Mom still worked some part-time jobs to save up for all the baby expenses. She didn't want to touch a cent of the Cambridge's money. Sometimes, she thought about simply donating all of it. But it never came to that.

The whole college thing didn't happen either, which was probably for the best because Mom, it was hard juggling working with a newborn. Anyways, I was born a little after New Year's. Doctors said it must have been all the stress Mom was under.

She had joked, calling me a late Christmas gift. She never knew what she was having. Everything had been gender-neutral, but she felt like a son was perfect. My name was stolen from the Irish Actor she had a crush on.

It didn't take a rocket scientist for people in town to put the pieces together and figure out who my father could be.

Finally fed up with that town and all their stupid gossip, Mom took the hush money, split it with my uncle, and then she left the state, settling down in a small quiet town for a few years. That's where she worked and got her associate's in business management before going for her cosmetology degree.

Mom apologized a million more times before breaking down into tears again. I just held her, letting her cry it all out.

I told her that I wasn't' disappointed or angry with her. The Cambridges were another story. They made me sick, and I had been buddying up with them for years. I was kind of peeved. Mom didn't hint at me to keep my distance from them, but I understood why.

Mom didn't have to tell me because I saw the look in her eyes when I said Cambridge. She was terrified of them in a way, and she wanted nothing more than to ignore them and keep on living her life.

Hopefully, I can do the same.

**

I didn't think anything of the hushed tones coming from the front desk. I thought Mom was probably gossiping with one of the girls like they did every morning.

But when I came out of the inventory closet, I saw Mayor Cambridge talking to my mother.

The rest of the ladies weren't even in yet. It was just the two of us since the salon hadn't officially opened. How convenient for him to stroll in here at this hour.

Neither of them saw as I leaned a shoulder on the door frame, eavesdropping.

"So this is how the best salon in town operates? Do you make a habit of turning away customers like this, or is your pettiness only reserved for me?" The Mayor looked her up and down with disdain.

Mom cleared her throat, tucking a strand behind her ear while keeping her eyes glued to some papers in front of her. "I already told you. We're booked for the next week. There's no way we could squeeze someone in unless an appointment has been canceled." She had to take a deep breath before her following words. "I'm sorry. Maybe you could leave a number for me to call in case anything opens up."

Could you imagine being a good businesswoman and having to apologize to a selfish scummy bastard like that after everything he put you through?

I felt my fingernails digging into the palm of my hands. Those were gonna leave a mark. I flexed my fingers, shaking them out.

I didn't want to be rash. I tried to stay calm and hoped this guy would leave without making a fuss. I couldn't say for sure if my intervening would end well.

The Mayor snorted out a dry laugh. Then he did something I didn't appreciate. He swiped the papers off the desk.

Mom gasped, taking a step back and throwing a hand over her favorite necklace.

"Listen here." He wagged a finger in her face. "You can cancel on someone and give my wife the spot, or I'll..."

And that was my cue.

"Hey, Mom," I casually strolled, pretending I hadn't caught any of that. "You're low on that aloe vera shampoo that everyone's been raving about. We'll have to order some more." I finished, letting my legs carry me behind the front desk and face to face with my sperm donor himself.

Mom hadn't met my gaze, and the Mayor had his eyes elsewhere.

"Is there a problem? Maybe I could make a suggestion." I smiled at the Mayor.

Ask me to help you, so I'd have an excuse to help show you the damn door.

I picked up the papers from the ground. "We really should invest in some paperweights. The wind that comes in sometimes is brutal."

In the corner of my eyes, I caught Mom lowering one of her hands from the desk. It was trembling before she shook it off.

Now, I was the one who needed to take a deep breath.

The Mayor puffed out his chest. If that was supposed to be intimidating, he's failed.

His beady eyes met mine, then shifted back to Mom's.

"I'll make sure to tell my wife that this salon is overrated and not worth the visit. If you're lucky, I won't go online and rate this dumb a one-star."

I chuckled, crossing my arms. "If you're lucky, you'll leave with all your...."

Mom's hand flew over my mouth so quickly that it felt like a slap to the face. I side-eyed her defiantly.

What had Mom seen in this guy, seriously? She was way out of his league. Money or no money.

And thankfully, I got my good looks from my Mom's side of the family. People always told me how I resembled my uncle Alex. They would mistake us for father and son sometimes. Also, a few people called us brothers, giving him a big head.

"Please don't let that terrible attitude rub off on my son. He gives enough trouble as it." The Mayor told me.

I glared at him.

"Anyways, I'll be on my way. I know plenty of salons would gladly accept my money." He looked around the place. "They look better than this dump too." He laughed, pushing the glass door open.

I felt myself push in his direction to give him a piece of my mind, but Mom tugged on my arm forcefully, keeping me in place.

"Drop it." I heard her whisper. "Please." She sniffled.

And that's what made me back off. I wanted to be there for her more than I wanted to curse out that asshat.

"I could use a hug," she muttered.

Without a word, I did as she asked.

**

I thought Mom had recovered from her encounter with the Mayor the other day. She went right back to her smiley self, and she's been laughing a lot. Mostly because her son happened to be a comedic genius. But other than that, I didn't think I would've had a reason to believe otherwise.

But that's what she wanted me to think.

I didn't know how long Mom hid, but part of her was in pain. And she didn't tell me.

I had been texting Summer all night until 1 a.m. Don't ask me what we talked about because many of the topics started to blur together. But I loved conversing about the past, future, and present with her.

Once Summer and I called it a night, I went to the bathroom to do my night routine, and that was when I heard her.

It was a subtle sound, nothing that would alert me if I was sleeping, but it was loud enough for me to catch from the other side of the door. Mom was crying. She most likely, had her face buried in the pillows to muffle it, but I heard it all the same.

I lifted my hand, hovering over the doorknob.

Mom wouldn't want me to see her crying, and she definitely wouldn't want to explain her reasoning. Unfortunately, I was sure I already knew.

The Mayor had messed with her head that much.

Mom felt like she had to put on an act so that it wouldn't be a big deal, but anyone could see that moment was terrifying for her.

I didn't know how long it had been since they'd had a face-to-face conversation, but I could understand why no survivor would want to relive the experience of staring their abuser in the eyes.

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

I should've gotten to her faster. I should've been at the desk instead of Mom. Then maybe all of that could have been avoided. Perhaps I could have protected her.

My eyes fell to the doorknob again. I could go inside and comfort her and let her continue to cry it out. Or I could let her have her alone time. Maybe she needed this time to herself more than I knew.

I repeatedly slammed a palm onto my forehead, trying to decide what to do.

I felt my back hit the opposite wall, and I slid down it with my knees bent, up against my chest. Another lingering thought was, What if Mom didn't want me there for some reason.

I mean, how could she look at me and see something else that wasn't a painful reminder of what she'd been through?

I flung my head back, hitting it against the wall. If there was supposed to be a dull ache, I felt nothing.

Minutes flew by, and finally, she was quiet. I hoped that Mom was asleep, having some peaceful dreams. If she were lucky, her subconscious would take her to her happy place in Greece, where nothing could touch her.

The following day, I passed Mom's room when I heard her whispering on the phone—something about bad reviews online and hurting the business.

I already knew who was to blame for that.

I almost believed he wouldn't follow through on his threats.

I took out my phone to read the nasty comments for myself.

One was calling the employees incompetent and unprofessional.

Another bashed Mom for canceling an appointment last minute when she had a big event. I didn't know if that one was true or not.

I scrolled down some more and let out a sigh of relief when I realized only one comment was left. But it was the worst one.

Crap.

Every one of my Mom's loyal clients would know none of this was true. But for the ones that didn't, this looked bad.

It was complete slander, and I wanted Mom to take legal action ASAP.

Then I thought about the stupid legal fees and voted against it.

Obviously, the person who wrote this had a vendetta against Mom, and I would end it.

Running down the stairs, I slipped on Chuck's, and I sprinted out the door.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing on the Cambridge's lawn.

I knew Jason and his Mom went on vacation to his grandmother's for the week, so the Mayor had to be alone.

I jogged up to the front door, using the stupid knocker thingy before furiously ringing the bell.

The Mayor answered, "Jason's not here. But you should know that since your best buds or whatever."

"I'm not here for Jason."

His brows rose, and he crossed his arms. "I don't think you could be here for anything else."

I felt the muscle in my jaw twitch.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I shoved the screen in his face. "Was this you? If so, I advise you to take it down." My voice didn't betray the anger bubbling up beside me.

It took him a few seconds, but then he denied it. "I would never do something like that." He tried to put on an innocent front.

"Even after you threatened as much in my mother's salon," I reminded him.

His age couldn't have affected his memory that badly.

"You have no proof of that."

"I saw everything!"

"Doesn't matter if your Mom won't speak up for herself. Some people never change or learn who not to mess with."

I took a sharp breath and then calmly released it. "You're an ass. You never deserved my mother or anything she gave you." I lowered my voice. "And if I could expose every single dirty thing about you, I'd grab popcorn as I'd watch your stupid empire fall."

"Sounds like an impossible feat on your part. I own this town. The people love me, and it will take more than a silly rumor about my wild times in my 20s to change that."

"Wild times?" That's what he was calling it?

I scoffed. "I'm wasting my breath," I muttered.

I shook my head, turning to head back home. This was a mistake. I didn't know what I thought this would fix by confronting him. Maybe I selfishly hoped it would make me feel better.

"You should be grateful. You wouldn't be here if she weren't an easy lay."

The laughter at the end of that sentence had me seeing red.

My ears were ringing, tuning out the other disgusting things that came out of his mouth.

The hockey stick lying in the front yard was suddenly in my hands. Then I smashed the stick into the Mayor's 1980 Cadillac's windshield.

I didn't stop when he said he would call the cops. I didn't stop when his yelling got louder like he planned to restrain me.

Nope.

I stopped when my foot kicked his side mirror straight off, and the windshield was cracked beyond repair.

Only then did I feel the anger ease out of me.

The hockey stick clattered to the ground, and I felt the Mayor's hands grip my shirt sleeve. "You son a b...."

My fist flew to his mouth, and he landed on his ass.

He wiped the blood from his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

"You're so damn screwed, kid. Say goodbye to your future," he spat.

I opened my mouth with a comeback ready, but a scream from the bedroom window caught my attention. My eyes scaled up the stone exterior to the second floor, and my jaw fell.

A woman was standing by the window with her hands covering her mouth. There was fear in her eyes when she saw the Mayor on the ground, but that look changed when she noticed me. Her fear turned into complete horror as she recognized her mistake and hurried out of view.

But it wasn't the fact that the Mayor was having an affair. That was expected, given his background. It was the person he was having an affair with that had me stupefied.

And I knew if their family ever found out, they'd be heartbroken and disappointed.

Add this to the list of things I could never imagine speaking aloud to someone.

This wasn't my secret to tell, but it would be damn near hard to keep it.

For the first time, I took in the scene around me.

The wrecked car, infamous hockey stick, and the bastard mayor struggled to his feet.

How was supposed to get out of this one?

My impulses had never failed me so epically before.

The sirens coming down the street were coming in fast.

Cops. They were coming because of me.

The Mayor smiled, dusting off his hands on his slacks.

He was right about one thing. I was most definitely screwed.