Wings of the Wicked
Page 46

“Get out,” I rasped. “Get the hell out of my room and out of my life. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
He turned to me, his face a toxic mixture of rage and amusement. “Oh? And how are you going to pull that off? This is my house!”
“Then I’ll leave.” My voice was steady, but cracking at its edges. “I can’t take this. I’m done with you.”
He got right up in my face. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and it was nauseating. “You’re done with me?”
I was too physically and emotionally exhausted to go any longer. My lip curled with disgust at him. “Get out of my face before I knock the teeth from your gums.”
Something flickered dark in his eyes. He lunged for me, hands outstretched, moving faster than I thought he was capable of. I whirled out of his reach in shock, but I felt his fingers rake my throat, and my mother’s screams deafened me. I watched him pass me and my mom dart between us, beating her fists on his chest, screaming at him.
“What is wrong with you?” she shrieked, pounding his chest until he was backing toward my bedroom door. “Get out! Out!”
My lungs felt empty as my breaths became quicker and shallower, filling my head with cotton and making me ill. He’d just attacked me. I watched my mom force him from my room and slam the door in his face. She let out another furious scream before clutching her robe and fighting to steady her shaking body. I was dizzy—dizzy and bewildered by what had just happened.
Mom turned back to me, her face red and raw, her shoulders rigid with panic. “Are you all right?”
I stared at the door behind her. “No.”
“I’m going to leave him, baby,” she whispered. “Today I’m going to tell him I want a divorce.”
My heart shattered and rejoiced in the same moment. “Oh, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “No. I needed to do it years ago. This was the last straw. I’m going to tell him to start packing and get out by the end of the month. He has to go.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m proud of you.”
“He’s nothing like the man I married,” she said. “So there’s no reason to be married to him if he’s going to hurt you. It’s one thing for him to treat me like that, but not my daughter.”
I stared at her, barely holding myself together, heartbeats away from falling apart. “I have to ground you, Ellie,” Mom said, still shaking. “You sneaked out of the house and you were gone all night. Rules aside, it’s just not safe. Don’t you understand how dangerous that is, or what could have happened?”
I nodded. I did understand her concern. Lots of girls disappeared every day, were hurt in car accidents, kidnapped by evil people. But I wasn’t just a girl—I had responsibilities that forced me to, at the very least, bend these rules and sometimes ignore my own instincts for self-preservation. I could confess to my mother about being out with Will all night, but I couldn’t confess to leaping off the top of a building to my near death.
“Last night there was a disturbance downtown,” she said shakily, and ice stabbed my spine. “When I saw it on the news this morning and you weren’t here, God, I’ve never been more terrified in my life. People are saying it was a hoax; some are saying it was a terrorist attack. Some witnesses got photos and video on cell phones, but the images are bright and confusing. I don’t even know what to believe. Some of the things the witnesses are saying they saw … it’s just impossible. It’s been all over the national news stations all morning.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering against my brain. “I’m sure it wasn’t what they’re saying.”
“The point is, Ellie,” my mom continued, “taking off in the middle of the night was not the best decision you’ve made. This is the second time you’ve run off with him—the second time that I know of, at least. First you’re not dating him, then you are, then you aren’t, then you are again. You’ll be off to college in the fall, and I won’t be able to give you any rules then. But judging by your actions and behavior since your senior year began, I don’t know if you’re ready for that kind of freedom, or if I can even trust you to make the right decisions. I love you. You’re my daughter, and I’m terrified for you.”
I fought the sob in my throat and said the most honest thing I’d felt since I turned seventeen. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where I’m going or who I am anymore.”
She scooped me into a tight, warm hug. “I know, baby. Everyone goes through this at your age. You have to discover who you are and who are the right people to keep in your life.”
“That’s just it,” I said, and the tears broke free, sliding down my cheeks and pooling in the corners of my mouth. “I’ve learned who I am, but I don’t believe it. It’s too much for me to handle. I can’t take the responsibility. It’s ruining me.”
“Oh, baby,” my mom cooed, stroking my hair. “I know it’s scary to grow up, but we all have to.”
Not me. I never get to. I pulled away from my mom and forced myself to look at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She looked like she was in agony. “It’s my job.”
“I’m just going to stay in my room today, okay?” I asked. “I need to be alone.”