Chapter 5: Paternal Protectiveness

"Is that him?" Roland asks, yelling through the speakers. I put him on speaker phone. "Mr Andrews, nice to speak to you again."

"Why are you calling my daughter, officer?" Michael questions bitterly. I glare at him and roll my eyes.

"Because he cares about me," I answer for him.

"Yes, that and I need to make sure she's landed safely and that she's okay. It's what someone who cares does," Roland retorts and I chuckle at his tone. "Cade, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm... well, I'm as okay as I can be."

"Um... I know you don't want to talk about this, but I think you should know. Your mom, I bought a grave for her and they're burying her today. I know you wanted to be here but you can come and visit her grave, I'll take you if you want, some time."

"I don't want to," I mutter.

"Okay. I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you. For sorting things out. You didn't have to do that."

"I didn't have to. I wanted to. For you. So that if you change your mind, you can go visit her, okay?" he asks in a spirited tone. He's so kind to me, it warms my heart. I'm entering a world unknown to me and he is the one thing keeping me from going insane. "Now, I'm going back to sleep before my shift. I'll call you tonight once you're settled a little. Love you."

"Love you too." I press the red phone button and switch my phone off, hugging it into my chest, cradling it as my only source of hope.

"I don't want you talking to him," Michael says in the silence, making my head whip towards him.

"You can't tell me that," I scold. "You may be able to control where I live but not who I talk to. What is the harm in it anyway? You took me miles and miles away from him." He huffs, understanding he can't win this.

After a hour or so, the car comes to a halt, the engine switching off. I open my eyes after my fruitful nap to see a grand building, rather mansion-looking but much bigger, joined to another longer building. The red-brown bricks appear quite old whilst there are new furnishings with bushes covering just below the ground floor windows.

"This is where the students stay, and the building over there," he says, pointing to the building attached, "is the school. The lunch hall is behind this but I'll get someone to show you around once you get into your room." All I can do is lightly nod, following him inside and down winding halls. The blank white walls of the halls are separated by many beige wooden doors. A couple of slams ring in the halls and soon enough, we reach an elevator with five buttons, one labelled the basement.

Michael slams his finger on one and I have no clue why we didn't use the stairs with one floor. My suitcase isn't that heavy. But I guess climbing the stairs would affect his stoic domineering reputation.

When we reach a door, the door at the end of the hall, he barges in. We're greeted with a tall, lean boy with dorky glasses. He wears a hoodie and sweats and looks as if he had just woken up. Then I remember that it's very early in the morning, that's why not many of the students are around. His dazed eyes widen when he notices me and he just watches me and Michael as Michael moves to the window.

"Brent, this is-"

"Cade," I introduce, knowing that Michael would call me Cadence once again.

"Brent's my stepson," Michael announces and I choke a little on air. I knew he had another family but he has children that are not even his own blood that he cared more about than me and Mason, my twin brother. "He'll show you around during the day. School will start tomorrow so you can swing by the office and get your schedule and key to your locker." He leaves before I can even reply and huff when he's gone.

I fall back onto my new bed, surprised at the spring of the mattress. I guess there are some advantages of not living in my house.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mom," a voice says through the silence and I shoot up at the mention of my mom. My eyes lock with Brent's as he gives me a sympathetic look that actually seems sincere. "I guess you didn't know about me or his new family."

"No, I didn't," I mumble, sighing and taking in my new surroundings finally. His side of the room is blue, bookshelves sporting a vast collection of books and magazines spilling over each other and stuffed in so they would fit. The posters on the wall are from 'Breaking Bad' and the periodic table. He's appears to be someone who values knowledge, who actually reads and is interested in learning and school. I can respect that.

My side is blank blue, and probably will always be blank. What's the point in moving myself in when I won't be here long. I just have to be the kid from hell, although that probably means detentions and shit like that issued by my father, the principal of the school. But what do I care? Detentions aren't a deterrent as I have a bigger goal in mind, a life-changing goal.

"He seems very cold to you, your dad," Brent declares, catching my eyes again.

"He's not my dad. He's my sperm donor. I haven't seen him in eight years," I state firmly and he nods in understanding. Brent actually seems approachable, and not so irritating. I could get along with him. "He didn't even recognize me at the airport."

"****, that must have stung," he says. "I never liked the guy, but I go by the house only for my half brother, and I guess your half brother. He's six." I have a real brother, a half brother and stepbrother. Fucking hell.

"Wow, I didn't know he had a whole new life. Two years after he left, he had a baby. That's not painful at all," I remark sarcastically.

"Seriously though, I'm sorry about your mom. Michael didn't really tell my mom or me all that much about you or what happened."

"No, I don't think he knows. He just waved his parental rights in my face and shipped me off here."

"When did it happen?" he asks without thinking, and then pauses. "You don't have to answer that, you probably don't want to talk about it."

"Yesterday. Well, I found her yesterday. It may have been the night before," I deadpan although sorrow fills my body. It was yesterday. Only yesterday. With everything happening, I haven't had time to let it sink it. To let the fact that my own mother is dead.

"You found her?" he asks in a nervous voice. Images of her corpse fill my mind, plaguing every other thought. Why is that what I remember of her, just her laying there, dead, with pills falling out of her hand? My mom was a good lady. She had her faults but she always tried. She tried getting clean and sober many times, but she always had setbacks. But I never doubted her love for me, never. After everything, even high and drunk, I knew she loved me. And I loved her. Now, she's dead. I never got to say goodbye. If I was just there that night, if I was there when she got back, I could have stopped it, she could still be alive and I wouldn't be here. She left me. She left me with only Roland. Now Roland is gone too.

I race out of the room, preventing anyone to see my teary eyes and hurtle down the stairs. I eventually find myself by a small pond, a few ducks swimming around in it. I sit by it, crossed legged, staring into the water.

I don't want to be here. I hate him. I really hate him. Why did he have to take me away? I didn't get to bury my mom. I had no type of goodbye. None at all. Michael didn't even ask me if I was okay. He didn't say anything about my mom, or try to. He's an asshole. Fucking asshole.

"You don't run out like that. I expected you to be in your room," Michael's voice exclaims from behind me. That fucker. I turn around to face him, knowing my eyes are red and puffy but the tears are gone now. I won't let him see my cry, even if he knows I have cried.

"Yeah, well, not everyone is where you expect them to be. Some people just leave," I snark and head back to my room, brushing past him, without looking back. But I know he's following.

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