“I didn’t—” I shake my head. “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”
“You have a high opinion of what I’m able to glean from your limited conversation.” He shoves half a slice into his mouth, chewing with such gusto that even if I had an appetite, it would flee in terror. “Sierra needs stability. She’s at a very impressionable age.”
“Then get my visitation reinstated. I’d love to provide stability if everyone wasn’t so keen on pulling it away from me every time I try.”
“Boo-hoo. Go cry to someone who cares. Still off the drugs?”
“Yes.”
“And the booze.”
I snort and shake my head. “I couldn’t afford to get drunk even if I wanted to.”
“Yeah. Supporting yourself’s hard. You should try it without any handouts and see what it’s like.”
His conversation is the usual roller coaster. I don’t know whether that was a compliment or him railing about the woke state making things too easy for scum like me. A confusion that permeates even our most productive conversations, and this isn’t gearing up to be one of those.
“Where’d you get the phone? Steal it?”
I shake my head. “A friend bought it for me.”
“Sure. Who are these friends of yours who can afford the latest model phone for their girlfriend’s half-sister? I wouldn’t mind some of that.”
I drum my fingers on the table, pointedly staring at the far wall instead of meeting his gaze.
“It must’ve cost someone a lot,” he continues, deciding to mine the issue until he’s done. “Should I have the police return it to you once they’re done?”
“Give it back to Sierra. It’s hers.”
“Not without our permission, it’s not. Why d’you think we took the last one off her?”
“Because you’re shit parents who don’t give a damn about my sister?”
I think he’s going to get mad, but his lip curls in quiet amusement. “Your mother kiss you with that mouth?” His smile tilts into evil. “No, that’s right. She OD’d in a back alley with come from her last trick dribbling out of her vag. Like mother, like daughter, right?”
“I’m in a shared flat,” I say, fighting against the urge to go incandescent with rage. It never gets me anywhere. Bradley’s just as much of a bully as the stupid kid who got himself beat up and landed me in all this trouble. If he knows he’s getting under my skin, this negotiation will never get back on track. “There’s room enough for Sierra to stay the night.”
“I hope you’re joking, because if this is your actual expectation, you’ve drifted so far from reality that it’s just sad.”
“Tell me your expectations, then.”
“That I’ll finish this meal, walk out the door, and never see you again. That Sierra will gradually let us overwrite any genuine memories she has of the two of you with our recollections, all of which will be so one-sided that it’d make a grown man cry.”
He reaches across for my water and takes a large gulp, leaving grease stains from his lips on the side of the glass.
“Once that’s done, I doubt she’ll ever contact you, even when she’s left our home far behind. How does that sound?”
It sounds depressingly like something that could happen. Even without his obvious malice, it would be on the cards.
He folds his last piece of pizza in two, dragging it around his plate to sop up the spilled grease and sauce before shoving it into his mouth. I sure hope hating the sounds of people masticating isn’t genetic, or my sister must want to kill herself during every shared meal.
When he’s finished swallowing, Bradley pushes the plate away and finishes my water. “Found some photos on Sierra’s phone.”
Blood drains from my head so fast I grip the table to keep upright. My vision fades to black and white, and I can’t hear over the loud buzz in my ears. I gulp in a breath, hiccup it out again, then hitch in another.
The buzz fades, but my fingers turn cold. I rub them together, trying to get my circulation going.
Colour creeps back into the room as I stare at Bradley in mixed disgust and horror. His red-lipped smirk feels like a physical assault.
