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Potential TW for emotional abuse?

I just heard my mother scream "I HATE YOU. I FUCKING HATE YOU. DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING CALL ME AGAIN" to her (now ex?) boyfriend over the phone. 

Somehow I saw this moment coming. Not because my mom spent so much time crying in her room last night, but because the tension between the two had been growing. 

About two or three weeks ago, she stepped outside to call him. 

"But mom, aren't you fighting with him?" I asked. 

She sighed.

 "We're always fighting." 

"Then you might as well get back together with dad." 

He was, at least in my opinion, controlling and borderline emotionally abusive (and I suspect that he will attempt to call back). My mom didn't like him much, but she needed him; she was lonely and needed the financial support. He knew that.

If her phone was in the other room and she couldn't hear it ringing, he would call multiple times until she heard it and picked up, and yell at her for not answering. He did the same thing with text messages. He once saw her driving to the mall and followed her into the store and asked what she was doing there. If he saw her talking to a male friend or coworker, he would hound her with questions about said male, even after she had assured him it was NOTHING.  When she was at work, he would drop by the house for the sake of dropping by. 

When they broke up the first time, my mom told him she was dropping out of cosmetology school and moving back to her hometown, which is a six hour drive away. When they got back together, he kept asking why she lied to him. I don't know dude, maybe because she didn't want you to come near us because you're a FUCKING CREEP? 

I never liked him. I thought the relationship was doomed from the beginning. When they first started dating, my mother kept it a secret. But I'm not that naive. I knew. I might have been thirteen at the time, but I was aware and intuitive. 

I hated how he reeked of cigarettes and disgusting cologne. I hated his redneck accent. I hated his big, disgusting boots that tracked mud into the house. I hated how he made my mom spend hours outside or in her room, on the phone with HIM instead of with us. We would sit down and watch TV together, but we'd have to pause the show and wait for her to be finished on the phone with him. She usually finished hours later, when it was time for us to go to bed. I hated how HE was her number one priority. I hated how much she needed him just to feed us. I hated how she had grown dependent on him, instead of being her usual creative, resourceful self. I hated  how he marched into our house like he owned the place. I hated how he talked to me like he was my father. I hated how he thought he could tell ME what to do. I hated being forced to smile and say hello to him. I wanted to slash the tires on his big, redneck truck. 

And I hate all the damage he's done. I hate the fact that he has my mother's phone number and a key to our house. 

And most of all, I hate him. 

And I hate not knowing if my mother will take him back out of necessity, or move along. 

Update: We think this creep has my mom's Facebook password. I also think he has a key to our house. I am unsure about what to do at this point, but I am scared for us.