I take note of the garbage splayed out on the porch. The stench hits me in a flash, damn near making me gag.
Good fucking Lord.
I don’t bother peeking in through the front window. I go for the door, finding it unlocked. The unpleasant odor of cigarettes coats my nose and most of what’s inside this house when I step inside.
The door clicks softly behind me. I inhale a deep breath, hoping like hell she’s home and hasn’t been coming and going with the door unlocked.
This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood. Most of us on the street know each other, but I don’t put it past anyone to walk in and take whatever they please.
Not that there’s much to take.
The futon on the one side of the living room is worn beyond belief, the fabric rippled in some areas. In others, there are tears wide enough to reveal the insides of the cushions. In front of it, there’s a rickety coffee table. Almost all the furniture in this house is scratched up or dented in some way.
I trudge through the living room, catching a few spots in the carpet where there are new burn holes. They weren’t there weeks ago.
What the hell has she been doing?
I’m afraid to know the truth.
The knot in my stomach gets more intricate the further inside I get. The kitchen is piled with dishes. Plates of half-eaten food litter the counter by the stove. Just like on the porch, an odor that definitely comes from rotting food invades the air.
I wave a hand in front of my face and turn for the hall next to the kitchen. My bedroom door is shut, but I open it to check inside anyway. It looks the same as it did weeks ago when I collected the belongings I took to Sebastian’s.
I make my way to her bedroom door next and rap my knuckles on it. “Mom? You in there?”
There’s nothing but silence. I press my ear to the door and knock again. “Mom?”
No response.
I shouldn’t barge in, but what other option do I have? She could have passed out in there. I’ve walked in on that scene one too many times. It always used to twist my gut into a ball of panic when she wouldn’t answer.
Now is no different.
It’s a dead weight in the pit of my stomach, clawing at suppressed memories I’ve locked away.
I push the door open slowly, calling out again. “Mom? It’s me.”
There’s no sign that she’s around, other than the blankets on her bed being a mess. I can’t stay all night waiting for her to come home from wherever the hell she is, but I do need to talk to her.
I haven’t seen her and want to make sure she’s okay. I also need to know if Finn has come around.
I have almost half of what she owes, but if he’s showing his face…
It means he’s done waiting for me to pull the rest of it together and is ready to make some drastic decision that’ll impact me even more.
I head back to the kitchen, pull out one of the two chairs at the small table and settle in. Once nightfall comes, I’ll head out whether she comes home or not.
The front door slams shut,disturbing me from my sleep at the three-piece kitchen table. I lift my head off my palm and snap my gaze toward the window above the sink across the room, noting the darkness. I’ve been waking up at the ass crack of dawn for work, but I didn’t think I was that tired.
A grunt comes from the next room. I get to my feet and wipe the sleep from my eyes before turning the corner to see Mom in the living room, digging through a bag with her clothes looking like they haven’t seen the inside of a washing machine in days.
“Where’ve you been?”
She screams, “Motherfucking hell!” My heart reaches for the femininity in her voice that’s been clouded over by raspiness. “What do you want? Finally come back to apologize for the shit you put me through when you left?”
Tongue in my cheek, I won’t let her rile me up. It’s nothing new. I’ve dealt with her volatile moods before. The last thing she’ll get is a rise out of me. I won’t stomp around over her mean words like I did when I was a kid. I learned long ago that it doesn’t matter what my reactions are. I can fall to my knees with tears in my eyes, begging for her to be nice, and she’d still throw stones my way.
“You stole cash from me,” I state calmly, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall, even though a twinge of pissed-off still gets me when I think about it.
