“Tips are good,” she adds. Her attention is already drifting past me, toward the next game lining up. A guy, young enough to be my slightly older brother, waits his turn. I don’t miss how he looks at her.Christ.“It’s steady. Better than hustling down here every night.”
And that’s that. End of discussion. No big deal that she’s working under the Ashbys.
Silence settles between us. Not awkward. Just empty. Like neither of us expects the other to do anything with it. I realized a long time ago I couldn’t count on this woman to show up for me. Not when I sat in the principal’s office for the first time, or stood in front of a judge. There were no visits over the holidays when I was in lockup, or cards passed out on my birthday.
She didn’t even come to the hospital after they stitched my throat up.
I’m not even sure why I’m here other than the fact Remy got in my head–pushing me about my loyalty to the Barons and Arianette. Talking about fucked up families.
I look around. At the scratched-up tables and cracked leather booths. I didn’t go knocking on Rikki’s apartment door because this was our real home. The shitty pool hall where my mother could hustle up a few bucks and a warm bed for the night. Half the time, she’d leave me here, curled up asleep in one of the corner booths, waking when she picked me up before dawn.
She fed me, dressed me in hand-me-downs, and made sure I got to school, but she didn’t know how to be a mother then, andshe still doesn’t. It’s not her fault. No one taught her how to be a parent.
"You’ve always been smart, Day. I’m not surprised you’re in college, but Greek life?" she asks, questions flitting through her eyes as she racks the balls.
"I know. Didn’t seem like the thing for me either, but the Baron King felt differently."
She stiffens. "He picked you?"
"Yep."
Her hand lands on her hip. "Well, why the fuck did he do that?"
"He’s not the most transparent guy,” I admit, knowing I can’t tell her about death and tradition, “but it’s pretty clear that he had a reason. I know he’s trying to figure out who’s taking these chicks off the street and hurting them."
"Like the one he married?"
She keeps up with Royal gossip more than I realized. "Yep, like that."
"And you think you can help?" she asks, leaning on the table.
"Maybe," I shrug, still working to find my place. It’s not why I came down here, but I may as well ask. "Have you heard anything? Any rumors?”
“Rumors, no.” She pauses, eyeing the table like she’s weighing whether to tell me anything. Then she leans closer, voice low, “But you know I’ve always been more comfortable after dark. Either here or whatever job I’m working. My preferred bedtime is dawn.” True. Rikki would gather me up after her night out, and we’d shuffle home just as the sun was rising over the water. “There’s something moving out there. Not on the streets, not in the daylight, but lurking just around the edges.”
“What do you mean, ‘moving?’”
“I’ve seen boats on the water, no lights, just quietly riding the current downstream. Sometimes there’ll be a truck tucked into a back alley that looks out of place. People in the shadows.”
I digest that, letting it sink in. “Could just be the Scratch dealers. There was an incident in the North Side warehouse district.”
“Could be.” She lifts her chin, motioning for the kid waiting to play to step up to the table. He grabs a cue and rubs chalk on the tip. “But it feels different. Organized, maybe.”
I understand what she means. North Side is anything but organized right now. "Thanks, Mom. That helps."
She gives a quick smirk. "Don’t get used to it. I’m not running intel for the Baron King’s army."
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
I watch her line up her shot, the way her muscles tighten, the focus in her eyes. She’s alive, present, moving through the world like it owes her nothing. I should feel something–grateful, sad, angry–but mostly I just feel… detached. Like I’m observing from outside myself.
“You be careful out there, okay?” I tell her. She’s not the kidnapper’s target. Too old. Not the right kind of blood. No ties to Royalty… well, maybe, but none other than me. Fuck, that’s weird. “And if you see anything else, give me a call.”
“Sure, baby.” She strikes with her cue, scattering the balls in one hard smack. Three sink into the pocket, and the expression of the poor kid playing against her registers that he just got taken.
Rikki flashes a grin, but under that armor, I see the truth behind the bravado. She’s self-reliant and never waits for anyone to save her, but she’s also alone. There’s no question in my mind where I got it from.
In a town obsessed with bloodlines and legacy, there’s no question about mine.
