"Are you going to drive, Harry? Why are we still sitting here?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know. I'm trying to calm down. My hands are shaking. My nerves are shot. Your mother has me riled up."

"Sitting at the stop sign serves what purpose, exactly?"

"I turned the hazard lights on, baby. Commuters can go around me if they're that much in a rush."

Swallowing words of anger, Jonathan looked in the rear view mirror. His mother was running up the block towards them. Shouting, crying and incoherent.

His heart pounding, Jonathan ignored the fact that his mother, with an iron fist, put the fear of God in his heart. Truth be told, he wasn't man enough to face her. He would never tell Harry.

"Can we please go, baby? My mother is about to have Round Two on our car!"

"You know what? Maybe we should stop running from her. When are you going to stand up to her and stop pacifying her irresponsible ways?"

"Stop trying to make me disrespect her."

Harry turned off the car, infuriated. "Disrespect? When we were evicted, after watching five years of our hard work crumble before our eyes, your mother convinced us to move in with her until we got on our feet. We lied to her, saying we were like brothers, knowing we were married because you were afraid of losing your family because a), you were in the closet and b), you were gay.

"Your grown ass sisters stopped doing their chores. We wound up cooking every damn day, babysitting your nieces free of charge and we had to pay three hundred dollars a month for rent. We were the only ones paying rent while your sisters had a free ride, living off us. We work overnight. I lost my job trying to cater to your mother. For three years we were mindless slaves.

"Your mother bashed us every chance she got. If breakfast, lunch and dinner wasn't cooked she threatened to throw us out on the street. Your sisters' baby daddies smoke weed and eat up four hundred dollars' worth of groceries in two weeks and your crazy ass mother required that we buy more grocery for them to eat up. We didn't even get to eat any of it. So you might as well say she got seven hundred dollars a month out of us."

Lynn was pounding on the passenger side window, pleading with her son, Jonathan.

"Open the door, baby. Leave him! I'll fight that gay devil with you. My pastor will perform an exorcism to get the homosexual demon out of you!"

Harry attempted to unfasten his seat belt, to confront Lynn.

Out of the blue, an all-black Yukon slammed into the back of their car, seventy miles an hour.

Lynn was thrown ten feet back into the street.

The back and front windshield exploded, glass piercing Harry and Jonathan...

Air bags were activated, white powder temporarily choking them...

Amidst screams of terror from spectators and the neighbors, the last thing Harry remembered before blacking out was the blood pouring from a wound in Jonathan's side...

There was a difference between taking a break and taking a brake. ..

Lynn was in a lot of pain. It took a moment for it all to make sense. The screams seemed otherworldly. The huge mob of spectators, strangers and neighbors created in her mind some Tyler Perry movie set, a sound stage. But this wasn't a TV show and they weren't in Atlanta.

Despite her aching back and the popping sounds in her ears, she gathered herself.

Devastated, Lynn rushed over to Harry and Jonathan's car. It was thrown, hood first, into a palm tree.

"No, no, no, no! My baby! Jonathan! Harry!"

She was in a daze, nothing registered as her neighbors rushed past her, helping a 6 ft 7 inch tall black man, heavily intoxicated, from the wrecked Yukon. A helicopter flew overhead. She heard sirens in the distance, approaching them.

Falling to her knees, she opened the passenger side door. Her son lay against Harry. Some kind of way he held Harry close, before the impact.

They were both unconscious.

Tears clouded her vision. There was so much blood.

"Oh my God! Mama! Is that Jonathan and Harry?" Her oldest daughter, Sage, asked, horrified.

"Noooo, Mama! God, no! Not my big brother, Mama! What happened? What did you do?"

Hesitantly, Sage helped her mother stand up.

"Are you OK, mister?" One of the neighbors asked the drunk driver.

Lynn glared at him. He could barely stand up. She couldn't make out what he was saying.

As nine squad cars turned onto the block, two paramedics and fire rescue closely behind, Lynn attacked the drunk driver, slapping and punching him, repeatedly.

A few neighbors tried to deter her, but she picked up a huge tree branch and swung it at them.

They retreated.

She was tasered by the cops shortly after she hit the drunk driver in the back, in a fit of rage.

Shaking on the ground, the heartbreaking images were Breaking News fodder on every television station in the United States.

In a matter of minutes, Lynn's attack, even video of her attacking her gay son and son in law, went viral...

"She's free to go," said Sergeant Love, a huge, burly man to Officer Lungren.

Officer Lungren frowned. "But Lynn attacked her own son..."

"She's your supervisor, have you forgotten. You are still going to be written up for tasering your fellow officer. Maybe you don't know what loyalty is. She's been on the force for fifteen years. You are a rookie, still wet behind the ears. She acted out of passion. If a drunk driver hit your child's car you would have done the same thing."

"I still think she should see jail time."

"I tell you what. I'll take care of Lynn. I'm changing your orders. For the next few weeks you'll be monitoring the Senior citizen's knitting class downtown."

"Ah, come on Sarg! Don't do me like that! I'm a cop! Not a babysitter!"

"Exactly. Now release Lynn and escort her to Jackson Memorial North Hospital. You are to remain with her until your relief shows up."

"And what time will that be? My shift ends in four hours. I have a hot date tonight with one of the Dolphin cheerleaders."

Sergeant Love stubbed out his cigarette. "You better bring a blanket. Officer Biles called out. It's going to be a long night..."