Chapter 60: Are You Fucking My Stepsons?
Melissa’s POV
Everything that had just happened—the screaming tires, the brake failure, the smell of impending death—it was all a hallucination. A total trick of the mind. I suppose that’s what happens when trauma finally cracks you open; your brain starts filling the silence with nightmares.
"Melissa, sweetheart, we’re home."
My mother’s voice was like a bucket of cold water. She tapped me gently, snapping her fingers near my eyes until the driveway of the estate finally came into focus. Reality rushed back, cold and unwelcome.
As I climbed out of the car, the security guards stepped forward to assist me, but Jordan and Jason moved faster. They practically shoved the guards aside, both of them reaching for me at the same time in a frantic, silent competition.
"I can walk on my own," I snapped, stumbling back.
I didn't look at them. I kept my gaze fixed on the space between my mother and Mr. Gabriel. They were both frozen, watching the boys with a mix of confusion and growing suspicion. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like it was sticking to my skin. I didn't wait for them to process it. I turned and made my way toward the house, moving gingerly, making sure I didn't snag the IV needles still taped into the back of my hand.
I was barely through the door when the heavy click of my mother’s heels followed me in.
"What the heck is going on, Melissa?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Is there something I’m missing? Something you’re hiding from me?"
I kept my back to her. "I want to get some rest."
I wasn't in the mood for a mother-daughter chat, especially not one built on a foundation of secrets. But she wasn't letting it go. In the sudden silence of the foyer, I could hear Mr. Gabriel’s low, booming voice outside, cornering his sons with the same questions. It felt like a choreographed interrogation.
"You’re living under my roof, Melissa," she barked, her patience snapping. "When I ask you a question, you answer me. Immediately!"
I flinched, my chest tightening as the first prick of tears hit my eyes. "Seriously?"
"Seriously! I won't have you ruining—"
"Have you no shame, Mother?" I finally turned to face her. I was shaking, trying to keep my balance while the room blurred through my tears.
"Don't you dare change the topic," she started, her finger pointing at me, ready to dive into the usual gaslighting.
"I’m not changing it," I said, cutting her off. I wiped my face with the back of my hand, sniffing back the mess. "I just want to know if the rumors are real. Tell me something... did you and Dad even break up?"
She went dead silent. "Melissa—"
"Answer me. Did you?"
I stood my ground, refusing to look away. For months, I’d been trying to connect the dots, and as I stared at this woman—this stranger standing in my mother’s skin—everything was finally starting to make a sick kind of sense. My chest was heaving, the anger boiling over until I could barely breathe. I didn't even recognize her anymore.
“Melissa, what’s going on—”
“I’m not done talking!” I snapped. The words felt like they shook the very foundation of the house.
“You will not raise your voice at me, Melissa!”
“You lost the right to tell me what to do a long time ago!”
The slap came out of nowhere. It was sharp and fast, a stinging shock that left my ear ringing and my head spinning. Before I could even steady myself, the door flung open. Jordan and Jason were standing there, their faces twisted in total confusion that quickly shifted into something much darker.
“What the hell did you just do?” Jason barked. He was across the room in a second, shielding me, his eyes fixed on my mother with a level of rage I’d never seen before.
Jordan didn't move toward me. He stayed by the door, his gaze locked on his brother. “And you think you’re the one to keep her safe? After you nearly got her killed yesterday?”
Jason didn't flinch. He just turned his head slightly, staring Jordan down. “And you? What did you do? You screwed her best friend and then crawled back for forgiveness? You think you’re in any position to tell me how to handle my girl?”
“Your girl?” My mother’s voice was barely a whisper. Her mouth fell open, her eyes darting between the two of them. The word seemed to paralyze her.
I could see the shock written on her face. The one thing she hadn't calculated. Mr. Gabriel walked in right behind them, his mouth open to chastise his sons, but he stopped dead as the silence in the room became absolute.
My mother began to shake her head, a hysterical, bitter smile spreading across her lips. She looked from Jason to Jordan, then finally at me. “Tell me this is a lie,” she said softly, the quietness of her voice more terrifying than the slap.
“And what if it isn’t?” I answered. I felt a strange, cold confidence settle over me. “I learned from the best, didn't I?”
“Melissa, shut up,” she hissed.
“I’m not shutting up. Did you think I didn’t know? About Chloe’s father? You slept with him, jilted him, and walked away while his entire family went up in flames. You think I’m blind?”
“Melissa, you’re making a mistake,” she warned, but her voice was trembling now.
“The story is all over the school, Mother! I can’t even walk through the halls without people looking at me like I’m the daughter of a whore.” I spoke through gritted teeth. Despite the air conditioning humming in the background, I was sweating. The heat was crawling out from under my skin, suffocating me. “Do you have any idea what I go through every single day because of what you did to Chloe’s family?”
“Have you gone mad?” she shrieked. “Have you lost your mind in the last few weeks? Are you actually calling me a whore?”
“Being a whore is just another title, isn't it? I thought you loved titles, Mom.”
“Do you really believe your mother is capable of that?” Gabriel stepped forward, his eyes moving between the three of us, pointedly ignoring my mother.
But she wasn't finished. She ignored Gabriel, her eyes locked on mine with a frantic, piercing intensity. “Melissa... what I want to know is... are you three actually having a thing?!”