Page 217 of Broken Saint
“Well, I would say that it’s good to see you’ve been taking care of yourself…”
“Chad,” Mom warns, but he barely spares her a glance before continuing with his onslaught.
“I saw you online, you know.”
I stare at him, trying to school my features but aware that I’m doing a very bad job.
“Can we not do this here?” Mom asks, attempting to maneuver our cart around him to continue with our shopping.
Chad's hand snaps out, his fingers wrapping around our cart, stopping us from going anywhere.
Chad was never violent toward me—his abuse came in a different form. But that doesn’t mean that I’m unaware of his temper. I saw it on more than a few occasions during our time together, and it’s not something I want to experience. Especially not today. Not now.
Not when I was just starting to feel the tingles of hope.
“Do you know, Angie? I think now is the perfect time to discuss how my fiancée, your daughter, decided to steal my money and hop across the country to be with her little boyfriend, as if she thought he actually wanted her.” He throws his head back and barks out a laugh as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
“We’re not listening to this,” Mom hisses, attempting to rip the cart from his grip. “Ella owes you nothing. Not after the way you’ve treated her.”
“Me?” Chad gasps, placing his hand over his chest as if he has no idea what Mom is talking about.
“Yes, you. You…you…” Chad continues to stare at Mom with an eye raised in amusement. “You asshole.”
His smirk grows while pride for my mom washes through me, although it does little to diminish the fear and need to turn around and run as fast as I can.
“Aw, Angie. Is that really the best you can come up with?”
Mom fumes, still unsuccessfully trying to tug our cart from Chad’s grip.
“Honestly, I’ll let your insults fly. It’s not like I’ve ever cared about any of your opinions anyway. How could I, when you’ve raised such a weak woman?”
“That’s enough,” Mom snaps, abandoning the cart and tugging me with her. “We’re done here.”
We’re almost past him when he speaks again.
“We won’t be done here until Ella pays me what she owes me.”
“Like I said—” Mom starts, but Chad isn’t having any of it.
“Five grand,” he growls.
“What?” I cry, spinning back to look at him. “It was five hundred.”
He shrugs, not having a care in the world.
“You owe me five grand, Ella. And until you pay up, you can bet that you’re going to see my face much more than you’d like. No one steals from me and gets away with it.”
My mouth opens and closes, but I don’t have any words.
Unbelievable.
“You’ve got my ring. That’s all you’re getting from me.”
He doesn’t need me to tell him that I can’t afford to pay any of that money back. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have a job anymore.
He laughs again. “That piece-of-shit I pushed on your finger while pretending it was something special?” He shakes his head, pity oozing from his eyes. “It isn’t worth anything.”
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Mom seethes, making his smile grow. He’s actually pleased with himself. He’s even more twisted than I thought.