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“Is this Luke Remington?”
It was a woman’s voice. One he didn’t know or recognize. “It is,” he said.
“My name is Windy Price. I’m a friend of your mother's.”
He wanted to hang the phone up right then. “I’m not interested,” he said.
“Wait,” Windy said. “Please don’t hang up.”
The woman’s voice got lower as if she didn’t want anyone to know she was making the call. “What?” he asked. “You’ve got one minute.”
He looked over and saw Heather frowning at him.
“Your mother is in the hospital. She’s in bad shape.”
He didn’t feel anything hearing that and wondered if he was lacking in the emotions department. That he’d shut himself off for years and couldn’t turn it back on.
That he couldn’t give Heather what she wanted because of it.
Yet when he’d seen Heather hurt, he’d felt that. So maybe there was hope for him yet.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Her john did a number on her.”
He was going to disconnect the call right now. Things obviously hadn’t changed. His mother’s johns had done a number on him a time or two also. “Not my problem. Maybe she should consider another line of work.”
“It’s not that,” Windy said. “I mean it is, but well, she’s been selling on the side and some product went missing.”
“Again,” he said. “Not my problem.”
“They need their money or they are going to do worse than what they did this last time. I know she is trying to reach out. I know you don’t have a great relationship either, but no one should be a punching bag. It’s inhumane.”
He snorted. What she was saying wasn’t wrong. “How much?” he asked.
“Four thousand,” Windy said.
There was no way he was sending his mother four thousand dollars. She’d probably blow it on more drugs. Or take off and hide. The problem was, there was no hiding from that life.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“We are in Queens,” Windy said.
Shit. Closer to him than he thought. He didn’t want to let on where he was. And he wasn’t going to.
“I’ll think about it,” he said and hung up the phone.
“Do you want to tell me what that is about?” Heather asked him.
“Not really,” he said. “But you’re going to keep asking until I do.”
“I will,” she said. “Because I love you and you know it and you know me. Maybe I can help.”
“I doubt that. Even if you could, I don’t want or need it. I’m not sure I’m going to do it either.”
This was just another reminder that he would never be good enough for her. Where he came from wasn’t going to go away no matter how much he wanted it to.
And if he tried to help, his mother would come back and do it again and again. Or ask again. He had to cut those ties like he’d done years ago. Or at least tried to.
