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“Not now Colt,” she snaps. “Just go to your room. Riot will be back in a couple minutes, I just need to talk to him.”
“Alright,” he hangs his head shaking it as he mutters under his breath walking back to his bedroom. We share the space ever since my mom killed my dad and got locked up. Colt’s mom, Raven, worked with my mom at Afterlife, and Colt and I have been friends since the third grade.
Raven’s an addict too, she thinks she hides it well enough, but Colt knows. I know. Our friends at school know. Before I even moved in, I was dealing with Colt for the Brotherhood. I don’t think his mom knows about it though, she’d probably try to dip in on the product. So I really hope this conversation isn’t about that. Though I guess she’s bound to find out. Two teenagers slinging dope on every corner for a 4 block radius, I guess we were bound to be discovered at some point.
“What’s up?” I ask as I circle around the table and pull the chair out across from her and sit down.
“There’s something you need to know, and I’m not quite sure how to tell you,” she turns her head, gazing out into the living room as she puffs on her cigarette again, hands shaking as she exhales.
“Okay?”
“I um, well, I got a phone call today, kiddo.”
I gulp. Shit, she knows. Someone ratted us out.
“From the prison.”
Okay, not the drugs. “Was it my mom? How is she? I know she doesn’t want me to come see her but, I really miss her. I need to talk to her, I nee-”
“Riot,” she interrupts and I stop when I see the glassy look in her eyes. It’s not drugs tonight, it’s the remnants of tears and I’m suddenly very worried. “Honey,” a tear blackened with mascara falls from her eye and rolls down her cheek, landing on her lips.
She sniffles again, taking another puff before stubbing out the cigarette entirely in the ashtray. Reaching across the table, she takes my one hand in both of hers, and her eyes settle on mine.
“It wasn’t your mom Riot, it was… It was the warden.”
Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I stay quiet, waiting for her to spit out the rest.
“Your mom. Honey. Your mom…” her voice chokes up and she stops. Clearing her throat, she begins again, “Your mom is dead, baby.”
“What? No…” I pull my hand back quickly from hers, dropping it into my lap. That can’t be right. It’s not true.
“Yes baby,” she wipes away another tear with the heel of her palm. “They, she was, it was an overdose. They think someone smuggled in a hotshot. They, they found traces of carfentanil in the bag I-”
I stand up quickly, knocking the chair over on the way up. “No, she’s not. No!”
It dawns on me that I’m shouting and when I run my hands down the sides of my face, I notice that my cheeks are wet. Why are my cheeks wet?
“Baby just sit down okay?”
“No, she’s not, she can’t be -” I don’t really know why I’m in such denial, she can be. She’s an addict and this is what happens to addicts. She wasn’t the best mom in the world, but she saved me, and she was all that I had left.
“Riot, honey just -”
“No!” I shout as I turn and slam my fist into the kitchen wall, drywall crumbling beneath my knuckles.
My chest tightens and it hurts to breathe. I’m alone. There’s no one left.
“Riot. Earth to Riot, let’s go. We’re here.”
I wake to my cheek squished against the passenger side window, Arsenal gently shaking me, and drool dangerously close to running down my chin. Between the very long, very smooth drive, and Arsenal’s weird fucking choice of music, the exhaustion finally won over and I fell asleep. I mean seriously who would have thought this big psycho was an Adele fan? By the 3rd time that song about her chasing sidewalks or whatever was playing, I was done.
Sitting up, I wipe my chin with the back of my hand and look side to side, assessing our surroundings. We’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, parked in front of the most massive mansion I have ever laid eyes on.
Looking to the side, I shoot Arsenal a glance and he shrugs his shoulders, “Han gave the address, your guess is as good as mine.”
Quickly pushing the car door open, I step out into the cold night air and stretch. Another car door shuts and I spin around to Spencer running up into my arms, and Travis on her heels.
“Where the fuck are we?” he asks, looking up at the mansion.
