Bratva Devil
A Dark Bratva Romance
Chapter 1
Maddie
“What do you mean her insurance doesn’t cover it?”
I pace my mom’s small living room, hand clutched to the back of my head as a tension headache starts to bloom, threatening to explode and knock me on my ass. Biting back the scream I want to give, I take a breath and instead say, “So we’d have to pay for the chemo port out of pocket, and it’s ten thousand dollars?”
When he gives me a terse, “Yes, ma’am,” I lose it.
“So she has to undergo long hours of chemo at the hospital, getting it all at once through an IV line instead of being able to slowly have the dose administered throughout the day in the comfort of her own home via a port because you guys won’t pay for the treatment that’s easier and won’t make her violently ill?”
“We do not pay for that upgrade, no, so unless you can pay for the catheter port out of pocket, you’ll have to stick with the IV method.”
I’m so mad I can barely think. I quickly hang up on the bastard before I get my name put on ado not ever answer any calls from this numberlist. When I hear my mom opening the bathroom door, I pop a smile on my face and ignore the rage brewing just below the surface. Her face is pale, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. This latest round of chemo has been especially rough on her.
She takes one look at me and sees right through my façade, just like she did when I was fourteen and she caught me after I’d had my first cigarette and was trying to play it super cool when I’m sure I looked guilty as hell. “No luck, huh?”
“Not yet,” I admit, “but we’ll figure it out, Mom. I’m going to ask Kaylee for a raise. I’ve been working there long enough, and god knows I deserve one for picking up after her and her brother.”
My mom shuffles over to the couch and collapses onto it. The breast cancer was originally diagnosed when I was in high school, and we thought it was gone for good, but it’s back, and if chemo doesn’t work, then she’ll have no choice but to undergo surgery. I’ve been working my ass off at every job I can find to try and help pay her medical bills, but they just keep growing because her insurance is shit and doesn’t want to fork over anything.
“I hate that you have to work so much,” she says, pulling the afghan she crocheted when I was young over her thin legs.
“I’m fine.” I walk over and sit next to her. “Stop worrying about me.”
She gives me a small grin. “I’m your mother. That’s like asking me not to breathe.”
“Well, try not to worry so much then. My job is actually pretty easy. You know I just like to bitch about things.”
She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Please, you’re the least bitchy person I know.”
“I bet that guy I just talked to would disagree with you.”
She laughs again. “I bet he deserved it.”
“He was a dick,” I admit. “It’s not fair that they don’t pay for shit like this.”
“No,” my mom agrees, “but that’s just how it is, sweetie.”
Pushing aside all thoughts of health insurance, I grab the remote and the book she was reading earlier and put them on the couch next to her before running into her bedroom to bring back a couple of pillows. Making sure she’s as comfortable as possible, I set her cell phone within easy reach and check my watch.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay. I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can. It probably won’t be until tomorrow afternoon, though. Call me if you need anything at all or if you start to feel worse. I can skip work if you need me to.”
She’s already dismissing my worries with a tired wave of her hand. “I’ll be fine, Maddie. Stop worrying.”
“You’re my mom. That’s like asking me not to breathe,” I say, throwing her own words back at her.
She nods, but I don’t miss the way her blue eyes get a bit glassy. Leaning down to give her a hug, I take one last look around to make sure she has everything she might need before grabbing my bag and leaving. I’d stay if I could, but I can’t afford to lose this job. At twenty-one with no college and no work experience that would actually impress on a resume, my choices are limited. When I’d been offered a job as a live-in maid, I’d gladly taken it. The fact that I’m working for the girl who made my high school years a living hell is beside the point. Beggars can’t be choosers. I can swallow my pride and pick up after the most popular girl in my graduating class and her delinquent brother. I can do anything if it means my mom isn’t drowning in debt when she finally kicks this cancer’s ass.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice the man leaning against my car until it’s too late for me to sneak off before he can see me. My ex smirks at me like he has every right to be here, and I fucking hate him for it. We started dating senior year, and I gave him everything—my heart, my virginity, my complete trust. And what had it gotten me? A broken heart after I walked in on him fucking another woman. That was six months ago, and he’s still completely baffled that I refuse to take him back.
“Derek, what the hell are you doing here?”
He ignores my tone and gives me the smile that used to send my heart racing and start an ache between my legs. Now it just annoys me.
