AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m still trying to figure out how to get my mom out from under his thumb. Even with Cyrus taking most of what Silvy’s brings in, my mom loves her work. She feels connected to her customers. For most of them, she’s done floral arrangements for every milestone their family’s celebrated over the years from births and communions to birthdays and proms. She’s helped decorate anniversary parties, proposals, weddings. In her mind, her customers are family, too, and she doesn’t want to abandon them.
A couple on the sidewalk is fighting when I pass them, curses flying from their mouths like bats escaping their cave for the night. Something about them both cheating on each other…with the same person.
What a fucking predicament.
That no one else needs to hear about.
The guy’s wearing a hoodie three sizes too big, with a stiff hood pulled up past his ears, you’d think for warmth since it’s so cold out, but his camo cargo shorts paired with socks and sandals contradict that. No, I’m thinking it’s more to hide the scabs all over his face.
The woman’s in a fur coat I know can’t be real otherwise it’d have been stolen off her already, and she’s got a pipe in one hand and a lighter in the other, waving them both over her head during her rant about wishing her man’s dick would fall off.
“Take it somewhere else,” I bark at them.
“Fuck you, you nosey-ass bitch,” the man says, thrusting a clenched fist near his suddenly quiet girl, making her recoil. “This is between me and my lady.”
I want to snort. Now she’s a lady? But not when he fucks around on her? Or when he beats on her? She’s not reacting to his raised hand for no reason.
Disgusting.
“Not anymore. Not with the way you’re fucking yapping for the world to hear all your fucking business. Get the fuck out of here with that shit.”
“You wanna try making us?” he spits, stepping up to me.
I pull my gun on him so fast, the tweaker has a hard time processing the fact that he’s staring at a muzzle. I wait for it to sink in, but before he can actually do anything about it, I bust his face with the handle. One hit right between the eyes and his nose is flowing like a fire hydrant being flushed.
“Ah! You—”
“Get him the fuck out of here,” I tell his girlfriend.
Under over-plucked eyebrows, her bloodshot, sunken-in eyes widen as she asks, “And go where?”
That’s the thing about Fox Hollow. Run-down buildings take precedence over rundown people. This couple needs rehab, but they’ll never get it here.
“I don’t wanna see either of you around here again.” Without pointing the gun directly at her, I angle it so she gets a good look at the barrel glinting in the streetlight. “Got it?”
She audibly gulps and nods before waiting for me to move aside to get her man. Together, they take off running.
After tucking my piece away and getting buzzed in, I take the stairs up to the third floor—low enough to the ground in case of emergency but high enough that nobody can climb in through a window—then knock on the door, framing my hands on the jamb, my forehead an inch from the metal.
Someone skips up to the door on the other side before tearing it open, and I’m already frowning. “You didn’t even look through the peephole.”
My sister Breckyn rolls her eyes and walks away, saying over her shoulder, “Literally, wejustbuzzed you up.”
“So what?” I argue, coming inside and closing the door, passing both bedrooms and the bathroom to enter the kitchen where my mom’s cooking dinner—cawl stew from the smell of it. “It could’ve been someone already in the building.”
Breck’s twin, Charlie, pops her head up from where it was resting on the back of the sofa, a textbook balanced on one knee and a notebook on the other that’s more blue than white. Groggily, she says, “You’re paranoid.”
Paranoid.They have no idea how evil this world can be.
“Don’t open the door again without looking through the peephole,” I warn. They both ignore me, so I look at my mom for backup. She gives me none, however, as she stirs the pot on the stovetop, pretending not to hear us.
“Right, Ma?” I cock my head when she doesn’t so much as twitch.
“Mom discovered audiobooks,” Breckyn tells me.
Looking closer, I see my mom is wearing earbuds, the cord disappearing into the top pocket of her overalls where I’m guessing her phone is.
“What kind of audiobooks?”
