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Ezra laughed and pulled me to him, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. “You are so much trouble,” he rumbled against my lips.
I grinned.
CHAPTER 24
Logan
EARLY SATURDAY MORNING
My back protested to sleeping on the floor as I blinked my eyes open, staring up at the ceiling above me. Something had woken me up, but I didn’t know what it was.
Then, I heard it—my phone vibrating.
I quietly groaned and reached over Spencer to grab my vibrating phone off the floor. Squinting, I barely made out Mom on the phone screen through my tired, blurry eyes. I unwedged myself from between Spencer and Ezra before stepping off our pallet of blankets to answer her call.
“What?” I grunted once I was in the kitchen so I wouldn’t disturb their slumber. “It’s too early for this shit, Ma.” I mean, fuck, it was only four in the goddamn morning. Normal people were asleep this time on a Saturday. Why she wasn’t passed out somewhere in the house right now was beyond me. She usually was.
“Ricky is gone,” she mumbled. “Need you to pick me up some pills, baby.”
I gritted my teeth. I fucking hated when she used those damn sweet endearments like a normal mother would because she was far from normal. She’d never cared about me. Never fucking loved me. She only pulled out the sweet names I used to long to hear as a little boy when she needed me to do something for her—like now.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed, balling my free hand into a fist, digging my blunt nails into my palm.
She sobbed. I leaned my head back on my shoulders, glaring up at the dark ceiling. I hated it when she cried because I knew she was miserable. And that little boy inside me who still loved this awful woman hated it when she was upset.
“Stop fucking crying,” I growled. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
I hung up the phone, hating that I’d succumbed so easily. But fuck—I always did. Every time she started crying, I caved. My relationship with my mother was toxic as hell; I knew it was. But it didn’t stop me from doing what I could to make her happy, even if it was just feeding more drugs into her bloodstream.
Maybe one day she’d finally overdose, and I could be free. It was a shit thing to want, but I knew I’d never be able to leave her otherwise. No matter what dreams I had, I would always go back home as long as she was breathing. As long as she called me crying, I’d give her what she wanted.
I walked back into the living room and crouched over Ezra, pressing a light kiss to his forehead before smoothing my lips over Spencer’s. Neither of them stirred—too deeply asleep to even notice I was leaving them. I smiled softly before standing up and walking to the front door. As I slipped my slides on, I quietly grabbed my keys off the hook by the door and then slipped out into the night to go be my mom’s “savior”.
* * *
When I walked through the door, Mom quickly snatched the small bag of pills from my hand without so much as a thank you. I rolled my eyes and shut the door behind me, taking stock of the pig sty the place had turned into within a mere matter of hours.
Sighing, I grabbed the broom and dustpan and began sweeping the shattered glass off the kitchen floor—no doubt her current boyfriend had gotten pissed at her over something stupid. Then, I washed what dishes were in the sink before drying them and putting them away. All the beer cans and liquor bottles throughout the living room went next. The whole place smelled bad, and a headache began to form at my temples from the stench and stress of cleaning up after slobs.
I hated this place so fucking much.
The front door suddenly swung open, Mom’s current boyfriend standing there. I guessed his name was Ricky—he was the only one hanging around the most. Slamming his shoulder against mine, he stalked over to Mom, forcing me back a few steps. I gritted my teeth and swallowed my angry words.
I needed to get the fuck back to Spencer’s. I did not want to be here while he was.
Grabbing my keys from my pocket, I began making my way to the front door. “She’s dead!” he barked. I swung around, my eyes widening in surprise. Mom was laid out on the couch, her hand hanging limp. But I’d thought nothing of it—she always laid like that when she was passed out from whatever she’d taken.
“The fuck you mean she’s dead?” I growled, my heart thumping hard against my breastbone. I’d just wished she would overdose a mere couple of hours ago, but I hadn’t expected it to actually fucking happen.
I stormed over and pressed my fingers to her pulse, but sure enough, there was nothing. And her chest was still. Too fucking still.
Ice slid through my veins, numbing me to my core. I should’ve been crying. Maybe screaming. Possibly even hating myself, since I was the one who brought her those fucking pills. But instead, I just took a step back, feeling nothing. Not anger. Not happiness. Not confusion. Just…nothing. I shut down.
Ricky grabbed my shirt in his fists and yanked me off the ground. Now anger surged in my veins—hot and heavy. Thick and choking. “This is your fault!” he yelled at me.
“The fuck you goddamn mean it’s my fault?!” I shouted at him, trying to knock his hands away. “I’m not the bitch with the fucking drug problem! She is!”
He tossed me across the room. My head slammed against the corner of the coffee table, and the pain made me vomit everything I’d eaten the night before after the football game. I groaned, rolling to my back, blinking up at the ceiling all while spots danced in my vision. And I was pretty sure this house didn’t have two overhead lights in the living room.
