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“Psycho. He’s going to break you into so many pieces, and you won’t even see it coming.”
Who the hell is this woman? How dare she approach me and talk like she has the right to offer her sour opinion.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with him,” I huff.
“Honey, I don’t need to. I know him, and from your sickly sweet attitude, it’s a spell for tragedy.”
I take a deep breath and look her in the eye. “Look, I don’t know if you’re an ex or something, but…”
Waving her hand dismissively, she snorts. “Not an ex. But when it comes to him, you should at least hear the warning he doesn’t come labelled with. You must know he gets off on hurting people?” Before I can attempt to respond, she continues. “Well here’s your warning. If you want to survive this shitty journey we call life with your heart unbroken and your mind intact, cut and run now. If not for you, at least do it for the sake of your son.”
With that, she walks out, and I catch my reflection in the mirror.
What have you gotten yourself into, Evie?
I can barely look at Louis as he drives to the pizza shop. I can feel him sneaking looks over at me, but I don’t return them.
I couldn’t wait to leave Louis’s clubhouse. I’ve spent the last couple of months wrestling with the fact that he gets up to some shady stuff, but as long as he was straight with me, I was fine. But having that woman tell me what I was already trying to overlook has brought those concerns back to the surface.
“Why do they call you Psycho? Are you crazy?” Thomas asks, distracting me from my thoughts. The question makes me cringe. Trust a child not to care about asking such a question.
Louis smiles into the rear-view mirror. “Sometimes. But I reckon the best people are.”
“What do you do that’s crazy?” he pushes.
I brace myself for his reply, ready to jump in and end this line of questioning when Louis replies, “Sometimes, I don’t sprinkle sugar on my cereal.”
Thomas’s face scrunches up in confusion, but I let out a quiet sigh.
“That’s not crazy. My mum tells me to do that all the time.”
Louis shrugs. “You asked, little guy.”
“Are you my mum’s boyfriend?”
Louis peeks over at me before responding. “Would it be a problem if I were?”
Swallowing hard, I wait for his reply.
“Not for me, as long as I can have a motorbike like you.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Louis reaches across the centre console for my hand, and I catch the hurt on his face when I move it away.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel as I stare out of the window. I have no idea how to handle this. On the one hand, I never listen to gossip and other people’s opinions, preferring to form my own judgement. But on the other, her words are growing louder by the second.
