“Thanks. Why do you call me Maverick and not Mav like everyone else?”
“I don’t know. Would you prefer that I call you Mav?”
“No, I like the sound of my full name on your lips, I was just curious. Is journalism your passion?”
“Absolutely, writing has been my passion since I was a child. After my father died, writing my thoughts down gave me comfort.”
“How did your father die?”
“He was a LAPD officer. He was shot during a robbery. It’s amazing how one moment can change the entire course of a person’s life.”
Cocoa looks as if she wants to ask me a question but thinks better of it.
“What were you going to ask?”
“I was going to ask about your mother.”
“Ask.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, go ahead, ask.”
“How did she die?”
“She hung herself.”
“That must have been really hard for you.”
“What a lot of people don’t know is I’m the one who found her body.”
“Oh my God, Maverick.”
“Seeing something like that really fucks with a kid’s mental state. I’ll never forget the way her tongue was hanging out of her mouth or the haunted look in her bulging eyes. Almost like in death she still wasn’t at peace.”
“Did she ever try to leave your father?”
“Once that I can remember, we barely made it to the next town before he brought us back. After that, I didn’t see her for a long time. She was in a room that I wasn’t allowed to go in.”
“What about her family? They couldn’t help?”
“They didn’t give a fuck about her or me. I barely saw them. I barely see John’s side of the family, either. They’re spread across the United States.”
“Have you ever told an adult what your father was doing to you?”
“Don’t ever refer to him as my father,” I say sharply.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t consider him my father. I tried to once, but he made everyone believe that I was a problem child who acted up because his mother committed suicide. After the beating he gave me, I never told another adult. Dee and Nix know, but I haven’t told them everything I endured.”
“Have you ever thought about seeking help?”
“I don’t want a fucking shrink in my head, Cocoa. I’m coping fine on my own. John doesn’t beat me anymore. The last time he tried, I broke his fucking jaw. He knows better now. When I leave this town, I’m never coming back, and I’ll never see him again. He’ll be a distant nightmare.”
“Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.
“Alone, Dee and Nix aren’t home. John is gone, too. He went to visit family, but I refused to go with him.”
