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Boyd
Sweat slicks down my back as I step slowly off the porch, my eyes darting around the shadowy yard, searching for the source of the footsteps.
I know you’re here, Mommy.
Because she’s a coward, though, she stays hooded in the darkness, where she’s lived her entire life, just barely getting by. A succubus feeding on the souls of her children, only ever concerned with herself.
Rage ignites beneath my skin, a slow burning chemical fire that has me winding the trees dotting my front yard, using them as a cover as I search for her.
“Come on, LeeAnn, I don’t have all fucking night to play your games.” My breath is visible against the night sky, a foggy contrast against the stars. I glance up at the window to Riley’s bedroom and see the light is still on; gritting my teeth, I make a note to remind Riley of the safety protocols after I’ve gutted our mother on my front lawn.
I also make a note to fuck Fiona in my bed once this is all over, because I know she’ll be needing that part of me.
All of my anger and apprehension melted away when I saw the look in her eyes before I shut them inside the house—the look that said she wanted to tell me something. To open up to me, once and for all, and spill her heart out into the open for me to pick up the pieces.
But I didn’t want it to be adrenaline-fueled, or one of those things you spout out when you think you’re in danger.
I want her to mean it.
I’m kicking myself for leaving her with Romeo, for letting my jealousy get the best of me and not immediately dragging her from the restaurant where I could keep her safe, but my first thought at seeing him out was to go home and check on Riley, knowing he’d be looking for her.
She was in a public place, and Riley was home alone. It doesn’t necessarily lessen the guilt I have, but I’m latching on to it anyway.
My fingernails scrape against the trunk of another tree as I pass it, the smell of cleanser filling my nostrils. A sound to my left draws my attention, and I step out from behind one tree, spinning with my arms spread wide.
“Hiding is a coward’s game, LeeAnn,” I say, recalling the way she’d taunt me as a kid for hiding inside cabinets during her benders. “Come out so I can shove my fist down your throat and watch you choke on it.”
For a moment, I’m met with more silence, and I start turning again, trying to keep track of any movement in my peripheral vision. A twig snaps to my left, and then she steps out from the shadows right in front of me, holding a gun in my direction.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her in months, the first time I’ve ever gone this long without seeing her, but this time I’m not met with the usual wave of guilt or remorse. Like the hold she’s had over me broke the second she put Riley’s life in danger, and it never recovered.
An age-old curse being broken over bloodshed, and now I’m putting it to bed for good.
Riley won’t spend her life stuck under this bitch’s spell.
“I don’t think you’re really prepared enough to be making such predictions, dear.” She tilts her head, studying me, and laughs. “Then again, idle threats were the only thing you were ever good at.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest, refusing the bait. “I’ve followed through on plenty of threats, LeeAnn. My only regret is that I didn’t kill you sooner.”
“Yes, well, you always were rather soft.” She circles me, keeping the gun trained on my chest, edging around so she’s closer to the house than I am. “Surprising, really, given who your father is.”
“There’s no record of me actually having a father,” I say, trying to keep her talking while I work out a plan. I don’t have a weapon, and I’m not sure when Kieran will get here—or if the girls even actually called him. I could ambush her, I suppose, bank on the surprise of my attack throwing her off enough that she doesn’t shoot me.
But in the event she does, then I’m probably not of very much use.
“Just because I never put him on your birth certificate doesn’t mean I don’t know who he is. Just means I didn’t want him coming around and bothering us or trying to get custody.”
My eyebrows shoot up, a pang rippling through my stomach. “You didn’t even want custody of me. Why the fuck would you care if someone else had gotten me?”
“I needed you, Boyd. Needed you around all this time, even if you couldn’t actually be with me.” She laughs maniacally, tilting her head back. “Every time I let them beat on you or take you to the back bedroom in our trailer, they paid me. Handsomely, too, and not with cash. You think I was just too high to notice when they hurt you, but the truth is I just didn’t care. Little boys went for a lot of premium blow back then.”
Bile churns in my gut, pressing up against my esophagus, threatening to spew.
“The man you killed because you thought he was raping me when you were a teenager? He was behind on payments, and I set him up. Knew you’d try to be a hero, and gave his dead body to the Bianchis—back then, the Esposito family—because he’d turned their don in to the feds, and they paid me back in spades. You’ve been playing into my hand your entire life, baby boy. It’s embarrassing that you ever thought otherwise, but damn, was it easy to keep you coming back. Every dealer, every ex you ever killed for me was someone I wanted dead, anyway.”
She’s a drug dealer.
Kicking myself internally, I try to figure out how I didn’t see any of this sooner. The biggest dealers in King’s Trace, besides the Montaltos and Bianchis, are the no-names—the ones who lurk in the shadows, turn souls into addicts and trade freedom for money.
