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I shake my head. “No. Um, I just wanted to…”
To what?I can’t exactly tell him I’m reverse stalking one of the men who’s been stalking me since I accidentally witnessed a murder. More likely, the driver thinks I’m a jealous ex-girlfriend or something, and it’s better if he assumes that’s all this is.
“No,” I say again. “You can just turn around.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s your money, lady. That’ll be another surcharge, you know.”
“Okay,” I say automatically. I’ve actually got the cash to cover it for once, so I’m not worried.
He flips a U-turn and starts to drive away, and I can’t stop myself from looking back at the building Ransom disappeared into as he does.
Why the hell did you do this, Willow? What were you trying to accomplish?
I know it was probably risky to follow Ransom like this, but I felt like I needed to know where these men go when they’re not watching me.
It makes them seem more real and human, rather than some untouchable gods or demons or whatever.
My phone rings as we start to drive away, and I jump so hard that the taxi driver looks back at me with concern. Holding up a hand to wave off his worry, I dig out my phone, half expecting it to be Ransom telling me I fucked up by following him.
But it’s not. It’s my mom.
Fuck.
I swipe across the screen and then bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Willow, baby, it’s me.”
“Mom, this isn’t a good time.”
“It’s a great time.” Her voice slurs a little as she speaks. “I haven’t heard from you in so long, baby. Why don’t you call me?”
I narrow my eyes, my heart sinking as I realize what’s going on. The last time I talked to my adoptive mother, she was having a good day. Today, she’s on a downswing and is clearly high out of her mind.
My chest tightens, and I bite back a sigh. I’ve dealt with her like this many times before, and it’s never fun.
“Mom, what did you do?” I ask her.
“Nothing. Why are you always so—” She cuts off, not finishing that sentence.
“Mom?”
“Shhh,” she says. “I’ve got company. You’re gonna—” She giggles, and I hear a deep voice in the background. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but it’s definitely a man.
Goddammit.
She’s strung out with a john still in her house. Anything could happen to her. I’ve told her a hundred times not to get fucked up when she’s got strange men in the house, but she uses drugs and alcohol to cope with shit when she’s feeling rough, so there are plenty of times when she’s done it anyway. Worry twists in my stomach as I imagine all the worst-case scenarios of what could happen to her if the guy decides to take advantage. He could rape her, rob her… kill her.
“Mom, I need you to tell whoever that is to go, okay? Just tell him to leave.”
“You’re no fun, Willow, y’know that?” she slurs. “I’m havin’ a good time.”
The last word is drawn out, and she giggles again. I can’t hear what the guy is saying, but he’s there and still talking, and it makes me feel sick.
“No, you’re not,” I mutter. “I’ll be there soon.”
The line goes dead, and I shove my phone back into my pocket as I give the cab driver her address. He rolls his eyes at having to change direction yet again, but I ignore him, staring out the window as my feet tap agitatedly on the floor of the cab. I can’t tell what feels worse, honestly. The fact that my mom is using again, or the fact that I’m riding to her rescue. Again.
It takes the cab about fifteen minutes to reach her house, and as soon as I pay and step out of the car, the driver peels out, clearly not wanting to deal with me anymore. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, marching up to the house and letting myself in.
