“Because right now, she's the only thing keeping him bearable. She’s doing alright—”
“Yeah, for now. What else has he got her doing, huh? Shadowing mummy to learn the ropes? Or has he already thrown her into the deep end?”
Guilt riddled her features as she reached for me again. “No, it's not like that—”
My hand slammed hard against the table, “Then what is it like, Mum? Because from where I'm sitting, he's already got his claws in her. I should have dragged her from that house the moment I got out of juvie.”
Her eyes narrowed as the familiar venom returned to her face. “You know, you're not exactly innocent in all of this. The moment you cut him out of the deal with Selene, he took it out on the rest of us. All while you were living the life of luxury.”
My eyes widened as I gestured over my battered appearance, “Does this look like the life of luxury to you?”
She let out a deep sigh, covering her face with her hands before running them through her damp hair. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. I just … I'm trying my best to keep Squeeks out of it.”
I scoffed, finding it harder to look at her.
Things really were turning to shit under that roof, which meant it was only a matter of time before Squeeks made the wrong step. He would come down on her like a ton of bricks. Over my dead body.
“Something needs to change, and quick,” I said eventually.
She looked at me, hope flickering behind her swollen eyes. “I know, if I can help, I will.”
I don’t think she knew what I really meant by my words, this wasn’t going to be some midnight escape. I wanted to put an end to this once and for all. The cunt needed to be taken out.
CHAPTER 20
The rain had slowed to a lazy drizzle by the time I left the café, but it did nothing to wash the thoughts clawing their way through my head. Mum snaked her arms around me, pulling me in quicker than I could escape, a clear indication of her endless guilt.
Deep down, I wanted her to feel it. To feel all the years of destruction she played a part in. I think she already knew that forgiveness wasn’t on the table, as I pulled back, giving her a tight smile.
The closer I got to the flat, the louder my thoughts rang out. Would Misift still be there, ready to give me shit for leaving in my condition? I paused for a moment outside the door, listening for any sign of movement. But nothing. My brow furrowed as I opened the door, stepping inside.
“Misfit?” I called out, a part of me hoping to hear her footsteps on the hard floor.
It was quiet, no music, no sarcastic remarks hurled across the room. The flat was empty. I walked to the bedroom, scanning the room. The blanket she’d used last night was still messily thrown across the bed. Her coat, gone. No trace left behind but the same note I’d left her, now placed on the bedside table, my shoulders dropping as the silence settled in around me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, as I retrieved it, I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed—the springs groaning under my weight, just like my ribs. Illuminating the screen, I smiled as I saw Misfit’s text.
“Don’t die dumbass, M”
Of course she’d leave. Misfit was a wildfire. You can't contain someone like her, especially not with sleep-soft vulnerability. Still, I looked at the empty spot beside me, where she’d been the night before. I told myself it was fine; I’d seen people go before. Hell, I’d left people myself, but that didn’t stop the bitterness from crawling up the back of my throat.
Days passed like sludge. Time didn’t move so much as drag its feet, and I let it. My body was healing slowly and spitefully. The fire in my ribs still lit up if I moved too fast.
The heat of the shower was the only place I could stand the ache which lingered. Steam soon filled the small space, fogging the mirror as hot water poured over my damaged body. It hit each bruise—shoulder, ribs, the deep ache blooming along my spine—and I hissed through my teeth, fingers curling against the tiles as I rode out the sting. Pain had become familiar, almost comforting in its honesty. I would stay there longer than necessary, letting the heat loosen what had seized up inside me, allowing the water to beat against my pale skin until my mind finally slowed.
Stepping out, droplets traced slow paths down my chest, catching in the lines of muscles I’d earned the hard way. Not through vanity, mostly through survival.
I grabbed a towel, dragged it over my hair once, then tied it loose around my hips as I faced the mirror. A shadow of stubble darkened my jaw, sharp against skin still flushed from the heat. My face was leaner now—cheekbones more pronounced, my icy blue eyes sunk a fraction too deep. Faint yellow-purple ghosts were blooming along my ribs, fingerprints staining me of the night Danny decided to remind me who he thought I belonged to.
My hair was still a mess. A deepened red, wild and curling where it pleased, no matter how many times I tried to tame it.It stuck up at the crown, damp and defiant, like it had a mind of its own. I leaned closer to the mirror, studying the cut beneath my eye, catching subtle hints of the freckles which once fiercely decorated my cheeks. The way my mouth sat now—set harder, less willing to soften. There was something different in my gaze, resolve maybe, or the early stages of something uglier. I lifted my hand, pressing my palm flat against the cold glass. My reflection did the same, eyes locked on mine like it was waiting to see which of us would blink first. The steam hadn’t fully cleared; it clung to the edges of the glass, warping my reflection just enough to make it unreliable.
Then my reflection smiled. It was small—barely there—but wrong. A slow curl at the corner of the mouth, I hadn’t moved. My breath hitched as I leaned closer, searching my own face for proof I’d imagined it. I told myself it was the heat. The exhaustion. The fact that I hadn’t slept properly in days. The smile faded, replaced by my usual scowl, familiar and solid again.
I stepped back, breaking the connection. The mirror showed only me again—damp hair, battered skin, eyes too tired to keep up with whatever the hell that had been.
Misfit hadn’t come back. Not even a whisper of where she might be. But I still checked my phone too often. Still left the door unlocked more than I should have.
I was halfway through a lukewarm cup of coffee when my phone lit up, a number I hadn’t seen in a while, but I knew it instantly. Selene. I let it ring until the very last second before picking up, jaw tight.
