“Okay, Delphi. Wait, didn’t your ride just leave?”
“Something came up, but my new ride should be here any minute.”
“Oh, good. Have fun.”
“Thanks.”
Bless Con for believing me about not trusting my staff yet. I wouldn’t let them work here at all if I didn’t trust them.
I walk out after giving the customers, who wave at me, a friendly nod in return. As I pull the door shut, Don pulls up in front of me with a grin.
“Hello, lovely,” he greets me as I climb in.
“Hey, Don. Thanks for coming.” I tell him where I want to go and lean back against the seat, letting my eyes drift closed for a minute as I run through everything that could go wrong.
In the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if I thought I would be walking into a hail of bullets, I wouldn’t turn around. That message was the shoe finally dropping.
There are a million things I still have to learn about my boy, but there is one thing I do know.
Theo doesn’t drink tea.
Don drops me off at the edge of the trailer park with a promise from me to call him again when I need him. The afternoon has taken on an eerie stillness, as if the whole world has taken a collective breath in anticipation of what’s to come. I don’t bother with the front door. Not yet. Instead, I head to the back end of the trailer, where Theo’s room is.
I pull my gloves from my bag and slip them on, saying a silent thanks that he remembered to leave the window open a crack. I edge my fingers under the lip of it, and as gently as I can, I slide it open as far as it can go. I peer inside the darkened room, finding it empty, which is both a relief and a worry. We had a plan for this scenario. So far, I’ve got no reason to believe anything has gone wrong, but that doesn’t mean I expect things to be easy.
The furniture has been moved around. Now the dresser is on the far side of the wall, and the bed sits under the window.
“Thanks, Theo,” I whisper. He did this for me. I hitch myself up and wiggle my way inside. I have as much grace as a drunk elephant on roller skates. When I hit the bed after tumbling through the window, I have to swallow back a manic laugh at how well that kid knows me.
I lie still for a moment, listening for anything out of place. The trailer remains quiet. The absence of noise is perhaps worse than listening to screaming, shouting, and things breaking because at least then I’d know what to expect. Now I feel like I’m flying blind.
I get to my feet and creep toward the door, moving to the left when I hit the end of the rug as Theo’s words about a creaky floorboard filter through my head. I turn the knob and pull the door open a fraction. I can hear the faint sound of the television playing some kind of game show. I don’t hear anyone talking, so I creep down the hallway and head for the living room. I pull the gun from my bag and hold it ready in front of me. I click off the safety, which seems overly loud in the quiet of the trailer. I peer around the corner and see the kitchen is empty. I step in a little farther and freeze when I see the top of Josh’s head on the sofa facing the TV. The floor creaks under my weight, making me wince, but he doesn’t stir. With my gun aimed at him, I move around the sofa to stand in front of him.
He’s slumped over, out cold, an almost empty bottle of beer on the scratched coffee table. It’s not the beer that’s knocked him out—not if everything has gone according to plan. I pick up the bottle and take it to the sink, draining the last of it out before rinsing the bottle with hot water. I take it to the trash and shake my head when I find it half-filled with bottles already. I push the one in my hand toward the bottom and take an empty one instead, returning it to the table.
I head back in the direction of the hallway to make sure the other rooms are clear. I check the bathroom first, grimacing atthe state of it. There isn’t a chance in hell that Greer has been in here because I’m sure she’d have something to say about it. I pull the door closed and make my way to the main bedroom. I turn the knob slowly and push the door open a crack. The room is empty, which doesn’t fill me with the same glee as it did finding Theo’s empty. I needed him out of the way, but for my plan to work, it hinged on Diane being here. I look around the room before walking over to the bed. It’s easy to see which side of the bed Diane sleeps on, thanks to a pink pair of reading glasses sitting on the nightstand, along with a jar of face cream and a prescription bottle with her name on it. I take the phone from my bag and leave it on her pillow in clear sight.
Nothing seems out of place, which just won’t do. I yank open the closet and see a large bag on the top shelf. I tug it down and shove handfuls of Josh’s clothes inside, dropping empty hangers to the floor. Moving around the room, I knock over a half empty beer bottle from the top of the other nightstand , letting the contents spill onto the floor.
Spotting the heavy-looking ashtray filled with cigarette buts beside it has my lip curling. I pick it up and launch it at the freestanding mirror in the corner, feeling satisfied when it shatters. I stomp out of the room, back to the living room, and check on Josh once more. He’s still breathing, more the pity, but out cold nonetheless.
I continue to destroy the place, this time breaking plates and glasses, kicking in the kitchen cupboards with my boot, and knocking over the kitchen chairs. I find the whole process oddly cathartic. When I hear a car approach, I stop and smooth down my jacket and jeans, tucking my hair behind my ears. I make my way back to Theo’s room and hide behind his door, leaving it wide open so Diane can see in without seeing me.
I want to text Theo to make sure he’s safe, but I can’t just yet, not knowing if he’s in a safe enough space to reply. We’ve come too far now to fuck it up.
I hear the door open and Diane curse when she takes in the mess. Dammit, Josh,” she mutters. “Clean up this mess before he wakes up, Theo, or a black eye will be the least of your worries.”
My eyes slip closed as I bite back a curse of my own. Dammit, Theo, you’re supposed to be long gone.
“Why are we doing this? He was finally out of our lives. Is this really what you want for us? For me?”
My heart breaks at the sound of his voice and instantly fills me with anger. I want to march into that room, rip her ovaries off, and beat her with them. She doesn’t deserve to be a mother.
“Me, me, me. That’s all you think about, Theo. But what about me? I carried you for nine fucking months when I could have just as easily aborted you. I fed you, bathed you, clothed you. And this is the thanks I get—a selfish boy who’d rather run back to his fake mommy than stand beside his real one.”
“Delphi isn’t my fake mother. You are. You wanna know why? Because this black eye wouldn’t have happened if I were living with her. If she saw someone do this, she’d have killed them.”
“Well, your precious Delphi isn’t here now, is she? You think she’s all that, but I still won, didn’t I? I still got the one thing she couldn’t have. You.”
