Once all the doors are closed, Leo starts the car and pulls out onto the road.
“Thank fuck,” Alicia huffs from the back. She leans forward and tries to look around the seat at me. “So, whatisyour name? Or is it ase-cret?” she drawls mockingly.
I exchange a quick glance with Leo, who seems to have moved to a place of exasperated amusement now his mother is safely secured in the back seat. He shrugs one shoulder, offering me the chance to either ignore Alicia or answer her if I want to.
Without turning my head to look at Alicia, I give her the response she seems intent on getting.
“My name is Liam.”
It hits me then, like a swift dig to the ribs, that this is the first time I’ve told someone my real name, the first time I’ve introduced myself, possibly ever. Before now, people either seemed to know my name before meeting me or were given a fake one for the sake of a mission.
“And how do you know my son?” Alicia presses, seeming absurdly interested for whatever reason.
Leo answers this one, swooping in to semi-defend me from his mum’s attention.
“He’s my partner.”
And there’s something oddly securing in that truth. Something solid I can hold onto when the world is shattering into jagged pieces, meant to cut and divide.
I haven’t been able to rely on anyone like that other than Dan. My brother. I never thought I’d have it again after he died. After I killed him.
What should be a relief feels like yet another trap closing around me, teeth biting in hard and drawing more blood I can’t afford to lose.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LEO
Jack becomes strangely quiet during the car ride to my house. It isn’t his usual watchful silence. This feels distinctly different, like he’s working through something in his head. And not a good thing either.
I try to think about what could have caused his sudden retreat, but other than my mum being a general nightmare, which Jack seemed to take in stride, I don’t have a clue. He’s unlikely to tell me if I ask, so I leave him to his tumultuous thoughts and resolve only to pry if his dour mood lasts too long.
When I pull into the driveway of my family home, Mum barely waits for the car to stop before she starts opening the door. How she expects to walk now when she could barely stand earlier, I don’t know. But that’s my mother. Stubborn to a fault.
“Blimey, hold on.” I turn off the ignition and fling off my seat belt, getting out of the car and going to her door.
Mum lets me pick her up again although she grumbles about it like an old woman. I look over my shoulder at Jack, who nods at me to go ahead and take Mum inside.
I kick Mum’s car door shut with my foot and stride toward the front entrance to the overly large house. Jack comes up behind me and uses the keys he takes from my jacket pocket to unlock the door.
As soon as we step foot inside the house, King comes skidding into the entry hall from where he was probably lounging on the sofa he’s banned from jumping onto in the living room.
“Hey there, buddy.” I grin wide at King, always happy to see him despite the circumstances of my arrival home.
King is equally as happy to have his food procurer back. He barks in excitement and rubs all around my legs, zipping in between them with his fat little body almost getting stuck.
When I manage to get past him to start walking up the stairs, under my mum’s demands for her bed, King gives up on me and waddles on his stumpy legs over to Jack. He woofs at him in greeting and jumps up his leg, pressing his paws into Jack’s knee.
Jack indulges King by kneeling down and scratching his ears, allowing my dog to push up against him and beg for more attention to be lavished upon him. Jack complies, practically cuddling the greedy little corgi. He wraps his arms around him and stands up, shifting King to hold him like a baby and scratching at his chubby tummy.
He looks up at me from where I’ve paused on the stairs, and our eyes lock.
“Okay if I wait for you in there?” Jack asks, jerking his chin at the living room door a little ways down the corridor.
“Go for it,” I say. “Be back in a sec.”
Jack dips his head in acknowledgement and takes King into the living room, apparently to wait for me so we can. Do what?Talk?
Fuck, I hope not. I really don’t want to talk about today. Not finding Rush’s body in that van or going to pick up my mum from her sometimes boyfriend’s place because she locked herself in the bathroom again.
