“Right. Because you’re some big-shot mafia guy now, right?”
“Christ, kid. This again?”
I glanced out at Charlotte, who seemed to finally be able to focus on her book now that the music was off. I kicked the door closed and leaned against it.
“Well, that’s why, isn’t it? Why the cops can’t come here? Because you’re a criminal.”
“I don’t want the cops here because it was hard as fuck to get custody of you guys to begin with. You know how hard it’s gonna be to keep it if the neighbors start complaining, the cops come knocking, and I’m not here? You want to live in a group home? Because that’s what’s gonna happen. And, trust me, you don’t want to live in a group home in this city.”
Maybe I was being harsh with him.
But he’d been acting out for months.
And I didn’t have the patience that I figured came with raising someone for seventeen years.
“I can handle myself.”
“Yeah. Maybe. But can Charlotte?”
It was a low blow.
Charlotte, as much as he teased her at times, was his weak spot. I figured that came from growing up in an unstable home where he was parentified and needed to take care of her or shield her at times.
“Look, I get it that everything fucking sucks right now. I’m not saying you can’t be pissed off or upset. I’m just asking you to work with me on a few things. That’s it. Not ticking off the neighbors is one of them. I don’t plan on you being left alone a lot—”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Yeah, and it isn’t your job to watch Charlotte.”
“Done it all this time.”
“And now you get to be a kid. A pain-in-the-ass one, but a kid,” I said. His lips twitched at that but he forced them into a straight line.
“You get your job back?” he asked, feigning disinterest, but I knew he was definitely intrigued by the mafia angle. Which he must have learned by looking it up online. Or during one of his mom’s rambling confessionals she had when her meds weren’t adjusted right.
“Yeah. Start in a few days. But by then, I’m hoping to have you two back in school.”
“Charlotte’s nervous about it.”
So was he. He just wouldn’t admit it.
“I get that. But I think it might be a good thing.”
“How?”
“Because this isn’t a small town. Everyone doesn’t know you or your business. You can start over and be whoever you want to be. And there’s no one who can say otherwise. Think my moody-ass teenage self would have really liked that opportunity?”
That piqued his interest.
The ball finally stopped getting tossed in the air. He sat up and put his legs off the side of the bed.
“Can I go shopping?”
“Yeah. Figure it’s only right to treat this like a fresh school year. You guys can get some new shit.”
“Can I go by myself?”
Did my stomach twist at the idea of him loose in an unfamiliar city with a wad of cash? Yep. But I ignored it. Because hewasseventeen. He was capable of learning how to navigate the streets, the subways, even a cab if he needed to. I didn’t need to hold his hand. And he had a cell phone if he ever needed help.
