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As soon as he turned the corner and the crappy blue house came into view, I winced. A beat-up pickup was parked in the side yard/driveway/weed-choked blacktop area, which only meant one thing.
“Great… Just great…”
“What’s wrong?” Misha asked, parking on the street instead of in the space next to the pickup. Not that I blamed him. If I had a car, I wouldn’t want it near a piece of shit like that either.
“The crack whore who birthed us is home.” I rolled my eyes, mentally preparing myself for the fight ahead, and threw open the passenger door.
I wasn’t even halfway across the front yard when she flew out of the house and down the steps.
“What the fuck areyoudoing here? I told you to stay away! Do I need to call the cops again, asshole?” she yelled, planting her feet and trying to block the bottom of the stairs, like she even stood a chance against me. I’d been winning the shoving matches since I was fourteen and miraculously had a growth spurt; there was no way I was going to suddenly back down over a decade later.
“Get the fuck out of the way,” I snapped, striding up to her, hands clenched and ready for the fight.
“You come up in my house and talk to me like that? Who the fuck do you think you are?” Her bloodshot eyes darted past me, narrowing. “And who the fuck are you?! His pimp?”
Goddamn, Misha! I kicked myself for not explicitly telling him to stay in the car but it was too late. And if he didn’t know what I was before, he sure as shit did now thanks to Crystal’s big ass mouth.
“Don’t fucking worry about who he is,” I answered for him. “Move your ass, let me get my shit, and I’m gone. The more you screech in my face, the longer this is gonna fucking take and I don’t have all goddamn day.”
“Marek,” Misha scolded gently. “That’s no way to speak to your mother.”
Jaw slack, I stared at him as he came to a stop next to me, trying to decide if he was joking or not. First of all, she had tobea fucking mother for that sentiment to mean anything, not some drug-addled whore who spawned me in a backseat one day. And secondly, thatwasme speaking nicely to her. He should have been around for the real fights when I was a teenager, with punches being thrown and shit flying through the air. There was never a dull moment living in that house.
“Yeah, why don’t you try listening to your ‘special friend,’ you ungrateful piece of—”
Misha’s hand flew out, snatching her by the back of her neck. She shrieked, flapping her hands at his chest. His fingers squeezed so hard they disappeared into her skin as he forcibly removed her from my path. “And what kind of mother speaks to her son like that?” He glanced at me, probably wondering why I was still standing there like a dope. “Go get his things. We’ll wait here.”
“You have Ezra?” she asked, her bloodshot eyes darting between Misha and I.
“Oh, nice to see you remember at least one name this time. Can you remember your other kids’ names?”
“Fuck you!” She yelped a second later, grabbing for Misha’s hand and trying to pry his fingers loose.
“Marek,” Misha said with a bit of a growl, throwing another pointed look toward the house.
He was right but that didn’t stop me from muttering about what a worthless skank she was as I climbed the stairs.
Inside, I grabbed a gym bag and threw Axel’s clean clothes into it. Considering how few items he actually owned, it didn’t take long. Even with all of his clothes, his phone charger, and some graphic novels, there was still plenty of room. I’d need to get him some warmer shit before the snow started flying. Probably the little ones, too.
I couldn’t help but notice the black spot on the wall had gotten bigger since the last time I was there. I was definitely going to have to get that taken care of before I let Bri and Ezra come back here. If Axel was happy to kill himself with drugs, he could live with mold in his lungs. But the other two didn’t deserve health problems like that and I knew there was no way in hell Crystal would cough up the money to get rid of it. Could I call the village code enforcer on her? No, because then DCFS would get involved and that was the last thing any of us wanted. Except maybe Crystal. Half of me was surprised she hadn’t sold them off yet for another rock to snort.
Stopping by the bathroom, I grabbed a couple of Axel’s toiletries. For shits and grins, I turned the faucet on. The old pipes groaned and one measly drop of water rolled out, but that was it.
“Goddamn it!” How many months did they let you slide before they turned your water off? One? Three? Six? Unfortunately, that meant the mold got bumped farther down the list. The only plus side to all of it was that Misha seemed genuine when he said we could stay as long as we wanted.Notthat I wanted to. But I couldn’t let my siblings come back to a waterless, mold-infested house.
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I jogged down the steps and out into the front yard.
Crystal was bawling, sniveling, and smoking a cigarette all at once. Her hand shook as she brought the cigarette up to her lips and inhaled a drag, coughing it back out and sucking up snot in her nose. Misha no longer had a hand on her and from the way he turned and gave me a small smile, I had a feeling he was the reason she was beside herself.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” I asked, glancing at Crystal on my way by. By no means was I pissed. If anything, I wanted to learn his secret.
“Nothing. We simply had a conversation.” His smile brightened. “Are you ready?”
I nodded, hoping he’d at least clue me in in the car.
Crystal sniffled, dragging the back of her hand under her nose and wiping it on her hip. “Marek?”
“What?” I looked at her flatly.
