𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

52.

Chapter 52

Silence.

Sitting on a couch in my parents' living room, I feel like I'm undergoing an unwanted therapy session. The room is cold, I feel it even through the thick layer of Harry's hoodie on my body. It isn't until my dad clears his throat when my mother, Harry, and I snap out of a daze that the awkward silence has led to.

"I'm sorry," my dad talks, standing up from his spot next to my mom to approach Harry. "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Dr. Theo D'Amore."

As if things weren't already awkward enough, my mom openly warns, "Do not shake his hand, Theo."

My dad pauses in his steps but ultimately goes against my mom's warning when offering Harry a handshake.

Harry willingly shakes my dad's hand and introduces himself when saying, "Harry."

"Nice to meet you. Also, I'm sure my wife didn't mean to point a gun at you. My apologies, but she must've thought there was an intruder—"

"Since when do you guys own a gun?" I interrupt my dad when I've sat in silence for far too long already.

With a bothered sigh, my mom says, "We've always had a gun, Joelle, for protection."

"Mom, why didn't you tell me?" I clench my jaw as I sit back with my arms crossed over my chest. I'm looking right at my mother when I don't give details of what I already know.

With bangs perfectly combed over her forehead, my mom messes it up when she pushes her hair back with another heaved sigh. Shaking her head with denial, she tells me, "Tell you what, exactly?"

"I don't know," I begin with a short scoff. "That my grandpa was a gang leader, for starters."

She looks me in the eye. Somehow, her hair seems to perfectly fall in place again as she brings her hands onto her thighs with a pat. My dad slowly paces towards her to take a seat by her side, probably thinking, we'll be here all night. "And what would that change?" She stubbornly asks. Though, before I could even answer her question, she says, "I told you your grandpa was not a good man and was not a good father and what did you do? You reached out to him anyway."

"He was dying, mom!" I sit up with a snap. "When he called to tell you he had cancer, it's like you didn't even care!"

Scoffing, my mother shifts in her seat on the couch. "Of course, I cared," she mumbles. "I spent months trying to save his life—"

"How? By finding a cure for cancer?" I raise an eyebrow at her when we begin to go back and forth. "You could've been by his side instead, you know. He asked for you a lot. He would even call me Roma, confuse me for you, sometimes! So, tell me, what the hell did he do to you for you to not be there?"

Her brown eyes gleam and I can tell she's holding in the tears that are close to spilling. When she thickly swallows, my dad stands up. "Harry, why don't we let them talk?" With a head bob, he motions Harry to follow him out.

There's hesitation when the couch creaks beneath Harry as he stands up. He looks at me then gives me a sympathetic smile. I fight the urge to grab his wrist and beg for him to stay, but I know my mother wouldn't open up in front of him. When I watch him go, my mom then sniffles.

"I resent your grandfather," she then shares. "Not only did he get your grandmother killed, he almost got me killed. He was reckless."

"My grandma?" I ask about the woman I've never met and hardly ever heard about. "What do you mean he got her killed and almost got you killed?"

Quiet and slightly hushed, she says, "His stupid gang. Joelle, I was only fourteen when somebody shot my mother right in front of me. All because he had enemies and because he forgot who his real family was. He was so caught up in running the Angelos, he never once considered our safety."