Breaking the Rules [BoyxBoy]

29 | fσr тнє ℓσνє σf α ѕσи

You have a hollowed out heart
But it's heavy in your chest

Chapter 29 ~ For the Love of a Son

Owen Bailey

Broken, bruised, and looking like a fate worse than death, anyone could imagine that I was incredibly hesitant about seeing my family. As soon as I stepped into the Slater household, I felt like an outsider and wanted nothing more than to not be there, but I knew I had to be. All of my worries had surrounded the thought of Lucifer harming Liam and my mother, so now that he was out of the picture, I needed to make things right with them–it was the least I could do after making them worry so much about me.

But after keeping them at arm's length for so long, it was hard to let them be close again.

"I thought we'd never see you!" my mother exclaimed as soon as she saw me on the other side of the threshold and rushed to get me into the kitchen. She was just seconds away from procuring ingredients to make a fancy feast for me, despite my constant resistance. "Pastor George has been offering to have us come to his house, you know, for a family prayer. Lord knows you need it."

I looked over my shoulder to look back at her and scoffed. "Paster George can suck–"

"Owen." My mother's eyes went cold and unfriendly.

"–the venom out of my cold, sinful heart," I finished with a grim smile.

"That's more like it!" She patted my shoulder in excitement just before she rushed over to the other side of the kitchen counter that seemed to divide the kitchen in half. Feeling like I didn't have much of a choice, I settled into one of the bar stools tucked beneath the island and faced her. "You know it's very nice to see you come around more often. Liam definitely appreciates it."

I stared up at her, studying her carefully just before I mustered up the courage to ask, "And you? Do you appreciate it?"

Her head shot up almost immediately; it was almost as though she hadn't expected me to ask such a question because she blinked several times in astonishment while wrinkles creased her forehead. "Of course, Owen," she said those words with a reassuring smile, as if there was a possibility that I would take them the wrong way, but I didn't believe them. It seemed like all my mother wanted to do was try to make me more like her, more like Liam, and less like me. That person would be easy for her to love, but even though she claimed she did, it was hard to believe that she would actually love and appreciate a fuck-up like me.

I played with my fingers for some time before saying, "Mom."

"Yes, Owen?"

"Why did you walk out on us?"

The question successfully managed to tear her attention from her current task of preparing dinner. She narrowed her gaze at me, as though I had offended her, but she tried to suppress the pain by forcing a smile. "I didn't walk out on you and your father, Owen. I was all over the place back then. I didn't know God, and—"

"So now that you supposedly know God, everything's just so fine and dandy?" I snapped, feeling suddenly enraged by her reasoning for leaving an eleven-year old boy alone with a drunk father. "My life's horrible. My life has been a fucking mess for the past ten years! And you..." My sentence broke off when I realized that my mother had been staring at me with a look that didn't hold as much concern as it should have, "...you don't even fucking care!"