Chapter 3

Monica let the words wash over her, since it wasn’t the right time. “What are you talking about, mom? You already packed.”

There was a flurry of words as she stopped the car before reaching the black of the street. Each one brought greater temptation to drag her inside for vengeance, but wouldn’t be stopped. The only thing keeping her focused was the plan.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves before putting the car into gear and said, “Your bags are in the trunk, mom.”

The plan was what mattered. Not the screaming like a child in the next seat swearing away. There were temptations, like tearing off her clothes and tying her ass to the roof so she didn’t have to listen to the tirade. Her knuckles remained white as the cool air caressed her hands.

Her mother’s screaming started to become little more than background noise as she started to leave much of civilization behind. She enjoyed the privacy her house gave her, since she was free there like nowhere else. This had become her place of refuge, her safe harbor, her time to spend with J free from prying eyes.

She could do whatever she wished to her mother and no one would hear anything. Justice wasn’t something to be had with prying ears, since ears led to eyes and eyes led to evidence. There would be nothing to stop her from doing what she had to do, and no one would ever tell Dr. Carlyle anything other than her version of events.

Every word, every insult, every vulgarity washed over her as she stopped in front of her house. The only thing that would deny her justice now was herself. She had to remain calm and not give in to the anger boiling away just beneath the surface. Anger was the path of vengeance, which would deny her justice.

She stepped out of the car and opened the trunk with purse and pills in hand. Her mother was continuing to throw a fit, but it didn’t matter. Let her rant away all she wants. No one could hear a thing and nothing was going to stop her now.

The door closed to the sound of insects singing away their songs and a pleasant breeze crossed her face to bring scents of nature. Her fingers gripped her mother’s suitcase and pulled it out without any effort. There wasn’t much to weigh it down, since she hadn’t put much in there the previous day.

She set the bag on the driveway and closed the trunk with a pleasant echo. In her mind, she went over the plan to bring focus to her actions and voice. Her mother had nowhere to go and nothing she could do to prevent what was about to happen.

Her legs carried her with confidence to her mother’s door, where she continued to sit and glare out. She shook the suitcase before the window and saw the recognition in her eyes. There was no way she was going to open the door for that vile woman and walked towards her door without looking back. This was her house; not her mother’s.

The temptation to drop her bag to make her mother bend over to pick it up was strong. It would give her a chance to see if she was wearing panties, but that wasn’t part of the plan. She set it down gently and heard her mother’s rambling come through the open door.

Rather than listening to her rant about how worthless she was, she entered her house and closed the door behind her. She set the pills out on the counter and made a mental note about which one was going to be used. Justice was coming and she wouldn’t be denied; not when she was this close.

She poured her mother a clear glass of piss without breaking a smile and didn’t mind the strong scent that came with it. The only thing she couldn’t do was have J add his contribution, but that would come in time. Having her mother watch as she sucked him clean after was an exciting thought.

Her mother entered the house with her bag in hand and waited until the door was closed. “Time to take your pills, mom.”

She heard the suitcase drop and spoke with a tone of indignation. “You’re supposed to open the door for me, but you can’t do it. Can you, you worthless whore? What kind of daughter have I raised? You’re disrespectful to me. Always have.”

Rather than give into the anger, she turned and looked into her mother’s eyes. “Do you want me to take your bag into my guestroom, mom?”

The scowl brought back her childhood, but wasn’t about to look away as she did in her youth. “You should’ve already done it. I shouldn’t have to ask my own daughter to do a fucking thing. You should just do it.”

Their eyes fought for dominance and she wasn’t backing down. “Take your pills, then I’ll take your bag, mom.”

Liz broke contact first and she hid the private celebration as she watched her mother eye the glass. “What’s that?”

She wanted to tell her the truth to see her reaction, but had a role to play. “Lemonade, mom. Dr. Carlyle told me you had to drink a lot of lemonade to balance out your body. If you don’t drink it, the side effects are going to get worse. You already forgot about packing your bag. I don’t want you to forget anything else.”

Liz walked over and watched her tits bounce beneath her blouse without letting on she was watching. She started to sniff the air as she got closer and was about to deny her mother smelled anything. Her mother wasn’t going to be given a choice in the matter.

She took the glass from her hands and scowled. “This is piss.”