My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Veintiséis

Chapter 26

I look at the person who killed Gilbert, my eyes wide and my mouth open.

"Oh, my God!"

My mom looks back at me, angry.

"Hello, sweetie," She says, walking up to me with the keys in her hand jangling.

Still a little paralyzed, I suck in a little when she removes the burning chains from my wrists, not daring to rub them or, to be honest, do anything to them.

Once she's unchained my ankles, I get up and stretch my legs, letting the blood flow into my feet, and flexing my wrists slowly, ignoring the pain.

"Here, I got a first aid box," She says, straightening and holding it out.

We both stand there, staring at each other.

Me, with a look of disgust, and her, with a look of...whatever the hell she wants to call it.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed right now, taking whatever drugs the doctors were making you swallow?" I ask, putting a hand on my hip and wincing a little.

My mom sighs and sits down on the bed, placing the first aid box beside her. I raise an eyebrow, going round to stand in front of her, letting my arms loose.

"Well?" I urge.

"Do you remember that time I told you I was in a show back in the '90s? Yeah, it seems acting comes in pretty handy when you want to protect the people you care about," Mom explains, giving out a short laugh.

I gape at her. "Protect? And what do you mean, 'acting'? You were just acting out your illness? That you were bedridden? What about the weekly doctor's visits? Or the medicine you were taking? Was that a lie, too?" I scoff, glaring at her.

Mom shakes her head, softly wiping the tip of her nose and not meeting my eyes.

She always touched her nose slightly when she was nervous.

"It wasn't a lie. The doctor was a hired man from the gang, and the medicine wasn't...medicine, it was just skittles put in a medicine box to make it look real," She says, now definitely not meeting my eyes.

Not only did I not need to know the skittles bit, but also...what the hell?!

"You just sat there, pretending to me that you were dying, watching your stupid boyfriend beat me every day after school? I still have the bruises, mom, I still have that scar," I hiss.

Mom gives me a sympathetic look.

"It was all part of the deal to keep you safe," She mutters. I scoff, shaking my head.

"What about dad, then, huh?" I ask. She nods her head, looking down at her hands.

"He was part of the deal, too. I don't tell the police, I don't run away from the gang, I don't chicken out, and you, your dad, and your sister stay safe. And I had to protect you, most of all," She whispers.

I shake my head.

"What have I got to do with any of this? How was I supposed to know you were running around with a gang, killing people?!" I cry, shaking my head at her. She gets up suddenly.

"Xanthe, did you know your dad was a part of this?" She asks.

I take a deep breath and nod. "Just recently."

Mom shakes her head.

"From who, Xanthe? Who told you?" Mom asks. I swallow and look down at Gilbert's dead body, trying not to imagine his--Arsen.