Bastards and Scapegoats

against the window while staring at him. “Jack never told me how she died,” I replied. “Saint mentioned a heart condition but wasn’t very convinced. I just think it’s disrespectful to dig up the past like that. Jack is always so sad when he brings her up. I can’t imagine losing your mom. He loved her.”
Hamilton ran his tongue over his teeth and stared at the road. “He didn’t love her. Not really. And you won’t have to imagine it,” he snapped back. “You’ll lose yours soon enough. If my brother has anything to say about it.” My words had obviously angered him, because he accelerated a bit harshly once the light turned green. “Fucking heart condition. What a joke.” Hamilton’s tone was bitter as he weaved in and out of traffic.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “What do you mean I’ll lose her too?” My heart was racing. I grabbed the handle mounted on the door and squeezed my legs together as he went even faster down the road. The yellow lines dividing the street became a blur as we passed buildings, trees, and other cars. “Fuck,” I cursed when he narrowly missed a pedestrian. Hamilton didn’t even seem bothered.
“I meant exactly that. You’re going to lose your mom, too. Not in the same way as I did, but Joseph is a possessive fucker. He won’t let anyone in his life who isn’t completely devoted to him. And if someone is in the way, he gets rid of them. You’re a glaring reminder of imperfection, and the Beauregards like to sweep their imperfections under the rug.”
What an ominous statement. Get rid of them? What did that even mean?
Hamilton’s words were coming from a place of anger, but they rang true. I felt it in my gut that Joseph was slowly pushing me out and using everything at his disposal to do so. “My mom wouldn’t push me away,” I argued as he passed a school bus, nearly clipping the side of it.
“He makes it impossible to say no. He buys people. He uses every tool at his disposal to get what he wants.”
When Hamilton swerved to cut off a Tesla, I’d had enough. “Can you please stop driving like an asshole?” I asked on a gasp.
He winced, then slowed down. “Right. Sorry,” he muttered.
I watched the speedometer for a long moment before speaking again. “You really hate Joseph, huh?” I asked, fishing for more information.
“It’s not an easy task, but I do. It’s hard to hate family. You feel obligated to love them. Blood can be a curse if you aren’t careful.”
I swallowed. It was like Hamilton had spoken my greatest fears. I was the family forced on my mother; Joseph and this new baby were the family she’d chosen. In the end, would she have enough room for me?
Hot tears filled my eyes, and I nervously swatted them, praying that Hamilton didn’t think I was crazy for crying in the front seat. We barely knew one another.
“Obligatory love is the worst kind of love,” I whispered in agreement.
Hamilton turned to me, concern marring his expression. I swatted another tear as he kept glancing at me. “Oh, Vera,” he said before turning into a parking lot full of townhomes. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped when he patted my leg. It was a tender but quick touch, and I had the sudden urge to grab his hand.
He pulled his hand back and parked before turning off the car. I looked around, not sure where we were. “I thought you were taking me to a hotel. What’s this?” I asked, my voice rough with emotion. I wasn’t expecting to get so worked up by his comment. It had been such a difficult day. I just wanted to get cozy and go to sleep.
“My house,” Hamilton replied with a polite grin before getting out of the car and walking up the sidewalk to a front door painted navy blue. I looked around at the white wood townhomes with manicured lawns. It was a middle-class neighborhood full of starter homes with young kids playing on the street, dogs barking, and trees swaying in the wind. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting of Hamilton. A bachelor pad would have been more appropriate.
I opened the door and grabbed my duffel bag. “This isn’t a hotel, Hamilton,” I called at his back as he fumbled with his keys and unlocked the door.
“This is safer. Plus, I have ingredients for a killer taco casserole,” he replied over his shoulder before going inside. I gaped at him for a moment before sighing and following after him.
No sooner had I walked through the front door than a large gray ball of floof had launched for me. I giggled at the deep, excited bark and dropped to my knees to pet my new friend, all thoughts of Saint and being at Hamilton’s house long gone. I loved dogs. Mom never let me get one because they were an “unnecessary expense,” but once I was done with school, I was totally getting my own little rescue.
“Oh my goodness, hey there, girl!” I scratched behind her ears. I didn’t really know what her breed was. She had dark gray short hair and a wide snout. Her eyes were a deep chocolate color, and her short tail wagged excitedly as I gave her a hug.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “I bet it’s perfect because you are just the best little buddy ever,” I cooed. Hamilton cleared his throat, and I looked up at him. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, he had an amused look on his face.
“Her name is Little Mama. Found her in an alley with four pups. I couldn’t leave them. After finding all her babies homes, I decided to keep her for myself. My roommate watches her when I’m on the rig.”
“Little Mama,” I squealed. Okay, her name was the cutest name ever. “If you ever need a dog sitter, let