Which is exactly what I do around two in the morning when she’s finally sleeping soundly.
Alexander’s presence has reminded me that my mum is shacked up with a fucking addiction feeding motherfucker—literally—and I haven’t been able to check in with her yet. It’s a risky move, but as I silently wheel my motorbike down the street so it doesn’t wake Lily when I start it, I know I’ll never be able to sleep tonight until I see my mum for myself. Even if it’s from a distance.
Riding across town, I park my bike a couple of blocks from the house I was meant to grow up in but was never there enough to call home, and I walk through the quiet streets of Hedgwick until I’m standing across the road from my house.
Just like I remember from back when I was a kid, it doesn’t matter what time of day it is. Like a number of the houses in this neighbourhood, the lights are on, music is playing with a thumping beat, and the curtains are open so anyone and everyone can see straight in.
And fuck… there, on the living room couch is my mum, pale, sunken skin, bony with no meat on her frame as she rides Monty’s lap.
Fuck!
I see red and reach for the blade in my pocket when the cold barrel of a gun presses against my temple.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I growl low in the back of my throat as I recognise the voice of one of Monty’s main dealers.
“Okay, Carlo.” I raise my hands slowly, not wanting to provoke the jittery fucker.
“Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” Carlo reaches into my pocket and removes my knife, “but doesn’t Monty have a restraining order against you?”
“Correct.” I nod as Carlo takes a step back so I can see part of his face under the shadows of the tree.
“Hmmm. Then why, may I ask, are you here right now? Watching your whore of a mother fuck him?”
My lip twitches as I grind my back molars, trying to talk myself out of leaping on the guy pointing a gun at me.
“I was just out for a stroll.” I shrug, nonchalant. “Must have accidentally taken a wrong turn.”
“You’re so full of shite.” Carlo chuckles. “But I’ll tell you what. If you give me the fifteen grand you won at the fight on Thursday night, I’ll turn a blind eye to your little evening stroll.”
My brows hitch at his words. No way am I trusting this fucker. He’d likely gut me the moment I handed the cash over.
But I can bluff.
“You mean the fifteen grand I have in my jocks?”
Carlo’s bushy black brows shoot high, and he looks down at my pants.
“You have it on you?”
“Of course. There’s nowhere safer to keep it than inside my jocks.”
As if my words make total fucking sense to him, he nods, looking excited.
“Yeah. Yeah. Give me the cash. Now.”
I nod, shoving my hand into my pants, pretending to rummage around to find the stack of bills that aren’t there.
When I pull my hand free, I quickly throw it up like I’m throwing the money up in the air, and the fucker falls for it, looking up to see where the cash went. Meanwhile, I’m already barging forward, sending a quick jab to his throat, and hitting the gun away to clatter to the concrete path.
All the fury that’s built up inside me from the last couple of days comes streaming out with each pummel of my fists as I slam them over and over into his head, not stopping as he falls to the ground.
I grip his hoodie to tug him towards me as I continue to slam my fists into his face, bone crunching, blood spraying, until I’m sure he’s alive just enough to still comprehend my words.
“You tell Monty that if he lays another hand on my mum, or even tries to fuck her again, I’ll do worse than this to him.”
I snarl in Carlo’s face, shoving his head back hard against the concrete path with a sickening crunch, and step over his nearly lifeless form as I make my way back to my Triumph.
