Page 119 of Privilege

Ever.

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“Renzo, hey,” a familiar face said as the two of them walked past the usual loiterers on the stairs of Renzo’s apartment building. “And princess Lucia. Been a minute since you were around, huh?”

Lucia gave the guy a look, and pointed a finger at him. “I’m watching you.”

“Someone better,” the girl beside him joked.

Laughter followed them inside the apartment building. Renzo was quick to pull a keyring full of jingling keys out of his pocket, before he handed them over to her. He pointed to one key in particular on the ring, saying, “My apartment key, go on up. I have to grab Diego. He’s downstairs with a babysitter.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“Fair warning—the kid misses you a lot. He might not leave you alone for a couple of hours.”

Lucia only shrugged. “So?”

Renzo’s chuckles filled the hall. “You say that now.”

He dropped a quick kiss to her mouth, and didn’t miss the chance to pat her on the ass as she headed up the stairs, too. Lucia tossed him a wink over her shoulder just before she caught sight of him disappearing into the bottom level hallway. It took her no time at all to climb the stairs, and come to the right floor for Renzo’s place. Throwing the door open to enter the hallway. Lucia immediately wished she would have waited and just come up with Renzo instead.

There, down the hall, was a familiar woman. Sure, Lucia didn’t know Carmen Zulla on a personal level, but the things she did know about the woman were enough to say she also didn’t want to know her in any kind of way.

Renzo’s mother didn’t notice Lucia. She was too fucking busy beating her fists against the apartment door. She looked like a mess—hair matted, and greasy. What bit of makeup she had been wearing—some lipstick, and maybe kohl around her eyes—was smudged, and ruined. The clothes she had on looked like they hadn’t been washed in a week, or more.

Lucia wasn’t the type to judge. She had a feeling this woman had some kind of trauma in her history that led her down this path of substance abuse, and addiction. No one just woke up one day and decided they wanted to be an alcoholic or a drug addict. It didn’t work that way.

This was a disease.

No one chose it.

But that didn’t mean Lucia could feel sympathy for this woman, now. Not after the things she knew, and shit she had seen since being around Renzo. Carmen might not have chosen her path, but she did choose to hurt her children. She chose to neglect, abuse, and disregard their wants and needs for her own selfishness.

Lucia didn’t feel anything but anger about that.

When Carmen didn’t get the response she wanted by banging on the door with her fists, she let out an angry sob, reared back, and kicked the door instead. Lucia made a sound in the back of her throat—half surprised, half confused. That was what finally caught Carmen’s attention that she was no longer alone in the hallway.

It took the woman a second.

Then, two.

She blinked, staring at Lucia like she might recognize her, but was trying to place where she knew her from. Then, all at once, Carmen seemed like she figured it out as her gaze dropped to the keys in Lucia’s hand, and then back up to Lucia’s face.

“You,” the woman hissed. Well, a garbled hiss might have been a more accurate description. Just how high was Carmen right then? Her pupils were pin-thin as she came closer to Lucia with careful, yet still stumbling steps. “You’re the little bitch he’s fucking, right?”

“I—”

“Renzo, my son,” Carmen continued. “What, he’ll give you the keys for his apartment, but he won’t even let his own mother have a place to sleep, too? He’s a bastard, like he’s always been. Would rather keep a little rich bitch happy than take care of his own mother. Did you know that, girl? He just throws me out on the street like trash. But what does he do for you, huh? What does he do for you?”

That need to defend and protect Renzo swelled swift and harsh inside of Lucia’s heart. How dare this woman insult him after everything he clearly did for her?

“He doesn’t need to take care of you,” Lucia spat at her, “that’s not how it works. Parents take care of their kids, not the other way around. But I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand that. You’ve never taken care of him, have you? He’s done your job for his whole fucking life.”

In retrospect, it might not have been the smartest idea to provoke a woman who was clearly high, in a rage, and probably felt like she was backed into a corner, even if she wasn’t.

Too little, too late.

Carmen struck out with a closed fist, and a screech that could burst eardrums. That first punch felt like hitting a brick wall. Lucia dropped the keys, and fought back.