Sweet Rome

“She needs to know, Rome,” my daddy went on. “She needs to know that you won’t have time to continue your player lifestyle.” Molly stilled.

“Leave it!” I shouted. “I won’t do this with you tonight.”

As I stood in the quiet cabin, I tried to put myself in my folks’ shoes. Had I been that much of a letdown over the years? Enough to deserve such blatant cruelty? And Mol, Molly’s only crime was in being with me—the first person I’d truly let in and they were trying to rip her from me. Hell, for all I knew, she could’ve already decided she’d had enough. She hadn’t bothered coming in here after me. Then again, she was probably scared out of her mind. I was acting insane.

Expelling a loud scream that had been building in my throat, I pounded to the wall and began punching it again and again and again at what had happened next…

Then, all of a sudden, there was Shelly, striding in like she owned the place, kissing my momma and being treated like the daughter they’d never had—hell, the child they’d never had.

The grand plan was finally revealed. They’d wanted to get it through to Mol that Shelly was what they wanted, and like my daddy and momma always said, they always get what they want!

I flew toward my parents and snapped, “How dare you do this to us!”

“Shelly is family and Molly needed to be informed of a few things that may affect your little… relationship,” my daddy said in his usual condescending tone.

“Don’t start this shit again, and while you’re at it, treat Molly with some f**kin’ respect!”

And then the f**ker bowed, ridiculing my girl. “Your Majesty, how is the queen?”

My hands began to shake with fury. Molly was friggin’ mute beside me, her golden eyes huge with fear. “You invited us here for dinner, to meet her, why? Was it all bullshit? Was your plan to rip on her the minute she walked through the damn door?”

My daddy looked at Molly like she was a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe. “Why the hell would we want to meet a gold-digging whore, let alone entertain her at dinner? She probably struggles to even use cutlery she’s so poor. Shel’s told us a lot about your girlfriend.”

And then he put the final nail in the coffin. “Tonight was an intervention. We had to get you to bring your new titbit before us somehow. A dinner invite seemed best. So now you’re here and we have your attention. You’ll do as instructed and end this charade. Immediately. Send your little British slut on her way… preferably back across the Atlantic.”

I couldn’t believe the level of viciousness coming from his mouth. He had always been a cruel bastard, but his treatment of my girl was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

“You invited us here to break us up? Christ, this is extreme, even for you!” I remarked, rubbing my hand across my head, feeling the constant control I had on my anger beginning to slip.

I wrenched the old shitty curtains from the windows, and tore them in two in my hands, dropping the faded red shreds of material to the floor. Back across the Atlantic… the f**king Atlantic! Agh! I hated him… HATED him! I swear the man’s evil.

Still too pissed to calm down, I snapped the frail curtain rail in half, throwing the fractured pieces across the room.

My drunk-ass momma stumbled forward, pointing in Molly’s face. “Molly here needs to know that her scheming won’t work.” Taking a large drink from her glass, she slurred, “Leave him alone. You have no idea who you’re taking on, do you? Shelly is engaged to Rome and some trailer trash nothing will not get in the way of that. It’s been arranged for years. I always get what I want, darlin’. You just remember that.”

My control snapped and I embraced the searing hot rage pumping around my body. I looked dead into the nervous eyes of Shelly and spat, “I’m not engaged to her and never will be! Screw your f**kin’ fortune; I want nothing to do with it!”

Lifting my head, I stared at the old chipped wall, now spattered with hole after hole, my fists covered in splinters and plaster, the room a complete mess, scattered with broken furniture. I stepped back, the pain in my chest affecting my breathing, and not knowing what to do next, I walked forward, pressing my forehead to the wall.

Taking tight hold of Mol, I began dragging her out the door, when my momma ran after me, lashing out and slapping me hard across the face. The smell of liquor was so strong on her breath that I was surprised she could even stand. “You insolent child! You dare speak to us like that after everything we’ve given you? You’re the worst thing that ever happened to this damn family, you ungrateful piece of shit! You never get anything right, do you? Always screwing things up, and bringing that into our lives is the worst to date,” she shrilled, pointing her finger in my face.