The Truth (Mommy's House 2)

Part Thirteen

I knocked on the wooden door in front of me, before turning to look around the area while awaiting a response. The small house wasn't much compared to the large houses surrounding it. There were no cars in the drive, so I was hoping that someone would be home.

The door swung open, and Cole was in front of me, still leaning against both of his crutches. When he realized it was me, he sighed and shook his head.

"Oh, God, what now?" he asked, and I smiled at him.

"Cole, you be nice to that man!" I heard his mother yell from behind him, before she walked over to the doorway to greet me with a smile. "Hello, it is nice to see you again, Officer."

She gave me a much sweeter greeting than the last time I met her. I gave her a smile. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Mancini. How are you doing today?"

"I am doing good. Come in?" she offered, her accent strong as she gestured for me to enter their house.

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Mancini. I just wanted to know if I could borrow Cole for a moment?" I asked, and Cole shook his head from beside his mother.

"I have to wash the dishes," Cole said, clearly desperate to get me to leave.

"You wait to do that. Cole, go with the police," his mother said, her light eyes blinking up at me.

"Mamma," Cole mumbled, and she shook her head.

"Faresti meglio a smettere di essere scortese o tuo padre dovrà avere a che fare con te," his mother told him.

I had no idea what she said, but her voice sounded stern, and Cole seemed defeated as he looked at me.

"I'll be back soon, Mamma," Cole said, towering over his mother to give her a hug. She was a very petite lady, and he was a very tall boy, so she reached just up to his mid chest in height as she hugged him.

Cole closed the door behind him and crutched out onto the porch with me, his eyes squinting shut from the heavy sunlight.

"Do you need any help?" I asked as he threw his crutches in the backseat of my car.

He didn't answer me, he just got in the passenger side. I furrowed my eyebrows and got in the driver's side of my car, turning the key to start it.

"Cole-" I started.

"I'm not answering your questions anymore," he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

I pulled out of his driveway, staring at the road. "I know, you don't have to."

"Then what more could you possibly want with me?" he asked, his voice filled with frustration. "I told you I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"I know, Cole, I know," I said to him, focusing on the road. "I'm sorry that we keep bothering you."

It was silent in the car. I just shook my head, it almost felt refreshing to be dealing with a teenager again.

"You remind me so much of my son-" I started.

"I'm not your fucking son," Cole cut me off, his tone ice cold. "Do you understand that? I just got away from someone who thought I was their son, and now I have to deal with it again?"

His words punched me in the stomach - they physically made me nauseous. I didn't blame him, though - he had every right to be that way.

I took a deep breath and moved my gaze to the red stoplight in front of me.

"I'm sorry," Cole said quietly, and I looked at him, a bit surprised that he apologized.

"You... you don't have to apologize," I said, studying his appearance. His eyes had light bags beneath them, and they were a bit swollen. He was staring at the sleeve of his shirt, playing with the frayed strings on the end of it.