I walk in and watch with detached amusement as she lays into him. He doesn’t stir once, not even when she throws the phone at his head. It takes her five whole minutes before she realizes something is wrong.
“Josh?”
I gasp dramatically. “Oh my god, you killed him. You killed Josh.”
Her face goes white as she stumbles back, shaking her head. “No. The phone hardly touched him. He was already like this when I found him. He… he…” She shakes her head, her eyes moving to the hallway. “Where’s Theo?”
“Why? Want someone to pin it on?”
“I need him.”
“Fuck you, bitch. What you needed was a hysterectomy and a lobotomy. Now I’m not a surgeon, but I’m more than willing to give it a go.”
“I can’t believe Josh brought his whore here. He promised he wouldn’t do that again.”
“So you know he fucks around, but as long as you don’t see it, it’s okay? Wow, and here was me, thinking there was nothing lower than your IQ. But I didn’t factor in your self-esteem.”
She eyes me, her gaze running up my body with a sneer. “What the fuck would he want with a fat bitch like you?”
“I don’t know, might be that your coochy has seen more men pass through it than the communal showers down at the Y. Anyway, I think we’re getting a little sidetracked. With Theo out of here, it won’t be long before he gets help.”
She whips her head around and takes a step toward the hallway. “Theo. Theo. Come here, baby, Mommy needs you. You’re only a boy. They won’t do anything to you if you say it was an accident.”
“Okay, IQ is actually lower than your self-esteem. Good, I was worried for a minute you might get a bright idea and the spark would ignite us all. Theo is gone. You’re on your own. Tell me, Diane, why’d you get him back? You didn’t need him. He’s only a drain on your money when he’s here, so what’s the deal?”
“Josh needed him. Theo’s young, good-looking. People pay good money to?—”
I storm over and press the gun against her forehead. “You were going to sell your son.”
“No…no, not sell, just loan. Just needed enough money to get us back on our feet so we could move. Get a fresh start.”
“Did you even get clean?”
“There’s always some guy who will fudge the results of shit if you suck them off hard enough.”
I grab her hair and shove her away from me, grinning when she trips and hits the corner of the kitchen counter. “To think I thought Josh was the biggest monster here. You’re his fucking mother. Well, you were. I know someone ready and waiting to welcome him home with open arms.”
Her face hardens as she spits. “Delphi? She can’t have him. He’s mine.”
“He’s not a fucking toy that you can throw to your friends to play with. Did he touch him?” I point the gun at Josh.
“No,” she answers, but she looks away. I don’t miss the flash of guilt. She’s either lying, and he has, or he’s planning on it. And still this piece of shit let him back in.
“Liar. Guess I’d better speed this up a little. I can practically hear the sirens in the distance.”
I tilt my head and sight my gun on Josh before pulling the trigger twice, hitting him once in the chest, once in the face. Diane opens her mouth to scream, but I swing the gun to her head. “Scream, and you’re next.”
She snaps her mouth shut. I pull out the small kit in the inner zipper of my bag and toss it to her. “What you did is unforgivable. But you’re still his mother, so I’m giving you a choice. You can go out the same way as Josh, or you can drift off into oblivion. Choose, now.”
With a shaky hand, she unwraps the gift and finds a rubber band and the pre-made cocktail loaded into a syringe. She doesn’t hesitate. She wraps the band around her bicep, finds a vein she hasn’t ruined, and jabs the needle in. Her face goes lax almost immediately.
“You don’t deserve him. You never fucking did. I hope you rot in hell.”
I place the gun in her hands, her finger on the trigger. This is going to hurt like fuck, but I don’t hesitate. I aim the gun at my arm and fire.
I scream, nice and loud, hoping the neighbors hear me, as white-hot fire rips up my arm. I let go of the gun, and her grip slackens. I let it fall in her lap as I pull my gloves off and shove them into the bottom of my bag. I pull my phone out and dial 911 as I grab a towel from the counter and press it to my arm with a groan.
When the call connects, I slide to the floor and lean against the wall, keeping my eye on Diane in case she jumps up like Michael Myers and shoots me.
