The fourth coin pays for the hatred I have for my former father. The resentment I despise carrying toward my mother. For the poverty and the ugliness and the beatings that stood for my everyday home life.
The last coin I spend on me.
It isn’t so much a roar as the dying scream of a creature in pain. I scream for my past, for the brutality of my present, and for the hopelessness of my future. In my heart I’m convinced my life will become a carbon copy of my parents. I’m doomed to repeat their mistakes and I know it. I’ll never escape the Vale. I’ll never be more. I feel it so deeply that I’m already dying inside.
By the time I’m done, I have no more money and hardly any voice either. I step outside and lift the plastic cover of the sticker tray. Inside are five perfect, bright stickers. The first bears the image of a little golden Coqui Frog, then a Wolf, Howler Monkey, and a lion, respectively. The last sticker I tuck into my pocket just for me. I don’t even read it. Part of me isn’t ready to know.
Across the way, the children squeal and bounce so high they rival my volume in the booth. But their yells of excitement and pleasure are a beautiful contrast to my screams of pain.
Do I feel better? Yes. Did it help? A little, but it also grounded me.
Things are neither all right, nor good. I am knee-deep in shit I can’t understand, and now I have the kids to think about too. I need my head on straight if I want to get through this in one piece. I need to let go of everything that I have no control over and focus on the things I can do for the kids, Mum—though she doesn’t deserve it—and myself.
I casually saunter over and stand beside Aiden. “Having fun?” I ask, expecting to see his eyes alight at the mischief the boys are making, and the way Casey keeps running back to the middle of the trampoline and throwing herself down so that the boys can jump in unison and propel her into the wall of netting.
Only, Fun-Aiden is gone. His expression is cold. His eyes roam everywhere at once and his stance—how hadn’t I noticed it before?—is strained and tense.
“What’s happened?”
“Ready to get out of here?” he asks tersely, still refusing to even look at me. Have I done something wrong or are we still in danger?”
I don’t need the answer to handle this situation. I’ll to do whatever Aiden needs me to do. “Yes. I’ll follow your lead.”
He checks his watch. It is almost four. “The kids need to eat. You do too. Next stop is an eatery and then we need to get you toCarlito’s,” Aiden reels off, still refusing to look at me directly.
“Okay. I doubt any of us can fit more food right now, but we could order or get takeout? And I have to talk to Carlo anyway, but I doubt he’ll want me working atCarlito’sanymore. Plus, I can’t keep the kids at the bar, and I won’t leave them with anyone.”
“Sounds good. Let’s just get out of here.” I have the distinct feeling he didn’t even register what I said, which only makes mesurer that something is wrong.
“Yo! Kids! Time to move your butts. Pizza?” I call. All three stop and look at each other with a myriad of expressions. AJ is suspicious, TJ overjoyed, and Casey confused, but they obey first time and run to our sides as Aiden takes each boy’s hand and leads us to the exit. I lift Casey onto my hip and dart out the door behind him. He walks fast, the boys barely manage to keep pace, they run in short bursts to make up the distance without falling behind.
We walk right past an empty space where, I swear, we parked the car earlier and instead climbed into a sturdy 4x4, resembling a tank more than a family vehicle, complete with those booster seats for the twins and toddler chair for Casey. I would ask questions, but Aiden urgently clips both twins into the back as I wrestle with Casey. As soon as we are all in, the engine turns over and we shoot out onto the main road and back toward Harrison Vale.
Aiden drives like the devil is on our tail.
Which can only mean he is.
Carlo doesn’t seem at all surprised when I rock through the bar trailing three small kids and a pissed bodyguard behind me. He doesn’t appear impressed that I arrive two hours early for once either, but when Aiden insists we drive to the bar as quickly as possible, that’s what we do. The kids each carry a box-meal from the drive-through where Aiden grabbed all kinds of fast-food for all of us to share; more than we can eat. His selection smacks of desperation and speed, choosing items already on the stands and nothing that needed to be made especially.
“Through to my office,” Carlo directs us, then whistles for Niall to quit wiping the tables and take over at the bar.
I lead everyone to the back room, Aiden bringing up the rear like he expects someone or something to be on our backs. I open the door to Carlo’s office.
“Come in, Jules,” Dax insists. He sits behind Carlo’s desk, his elbows resting on the worn-leather top and his fingers intertwined, steepled under his chin. He watches me carefully, only looking away once to throw a steely glare at Aiden. I bristle. Something hashappened, but Aiden was with me and the kids, he’s done nothing to warrant that glare…that I know of, anyway.
In the corner, sitting on the edge of the ugly sofa Carlo sleeps on between shifts, rests my mother. Her little leather purse lies sideways on the floor at her feet. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheek is a mottled Rorschach splash of blue and dark purple bruising.
The children run to her and shout over each other to tell her about their day. Aiden walks over to talk with Dax. He leans down and the two men speak in hushed whispers.
“Juliet, you’d better come in,” Mum warns, trying to smile and nod at each of the kids but not really paying attention to what they are telling her.
“Okay, what’s going on? Why are we all here?”
“Two men came to the factory and demanded my boss call me into work and threaten to sack me if I didn’t show.”
“So?”
“So, these weren’t Feelan’s drinking buddies, they were armed, suited and fucking dangerous!” Carlo shouts, storming into the office and closing the door behind him. He looks ready to tear someone a new asshole until my mum calls out his name and his fight drains in a flash. He sits beside her on the couch, his body too big for the small sofa. She leans closer to him. It’s an unconscious movement that both comforts her and calms Carlo. His arm swoops around her shoulders as he pulls her to his side in a fierce hug. Tears stream down her face, and I can’t tell if they’re because something worse has happened or because she’s finally where she really wants to be. I’m less than impressed with Cue-ball. He seems to have forgiven her way too easily considering everything she said back at the apartment.
