You Have My Attention

Thirty-Two

« Kason's POV »

I stare at her with nothing but distaste and disgust. I don't hate my mom. I never could. She's my mom. But I can't bring myself to like her. I can't get excited that she's here. I can't be happy to see her.

I clench my jaw and look away, a million thoughts swarming in my head. I never wanted Winter to ever meet my mother. The last time I introduced the girl I loved to my either of my parents, it all went to shit. When Sam needed some family of her own, my mother chose a murdering criminal over an innocent girl, knowing good and well that she could have died at the hands of her husband.

I never did understand how she stayed with him. How could her love be so strong for a man that slaughters? I get I sound like a slight hypocrite. I've killed men. And Clumsy still somehow loves me. But I don't do it for revenge or to be evil. It's just my job, or I'm protecting the ones I care about. My father was sinister.

She tries to take a step in, and I glue her feet to the floor with my steely gaze. "Don't take another step into this room," I sneer.

Tears fall from her eyes. I can't tell if it's from the hurt she must feel knowing this would be my reaction if she showed up, or if it's from seeing her son in a hospital bed. Maybe a combination of both. But in all honesty, I don't give a shit. She shouldn't of came at all.

"Kason," she whispers. "I'm so sorry. I...what happened to you?"

I scoff. "Like you give a damn."

She purses her lips and lets the tears roll into them, trying to wipe at the remaining wetness quickly. She sniffs and swallows, holding her hands politely in front of her with her coat in them.

I notice her eyes shift onto the angel sleeping beside me, and her gaze holds for a little too long in my perspective. I tighten my fists at my sides.

"Hey, I'm over here," I growl.

She looks to me, surprised. Then she looks back and forth between me and Winter, connecting the dots. A sad smile appears on her face, and I have to look away. I don't want her seeing any vulnerability in me.

"Did you find someone?" she asks quietly.

"Don't even think about talking to her," I threaten. "I don't even want you in here looking at her."

Hurt fills her eyes. I don't need to explain why I don't want my mother coming near my girlfriend. She gets it. She knows the last time we got into a tough spot, she chose the wrong side. She chose the bad guy's side, and it ruined me. I won't ever be able to trust her again.

"I'm really happy for you," she whispers.

"Are you?"

She swallows. "Of course I am. You're my boy. I'll always be happy for you."

I hum disinterestedly, nodding. "That must be why you abandoned me for the past few years of my life to cater to a murderer in prison."

"Kason," she starts tiredly.

"You left me!" I shout. My chest and abdomen ache in pain. "You left me when I needed you most. I tried to kill myself." My voice breaks. "I tried to die and you never showed up."

Her lips snap shut as the tears fall from her eyes. I can tell that she has nothing more to say. What can she say, really? I mean, I haven't seen her for years but I don't think there's anything to tell. All she'd tell me is that she's been visiting my excuse of a father every day of her pitiful life. I can't even imagine what the house must look like. Does she even live there anymore?