Johnny’s top lip peeled back, making the swelling across his left cheek bunch up. “Taylor, you’ve got five seconds to explain why William Manders is eating cereal at our kitchen table.”
“I-it’s a long story, actually?—”
“Five.”
“I went to the hospital and you weren’t there?—”
“Four.”
“We were meant to be taking Wendy for lunch but then?—”
“Three.”
“Then a call came in and William showed me this rancid stream?—”
“Two.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, JP, he was out there on his own! He ran away from the foster home and I can’t just watch him go through this shit anymore!”
Johnny snarled, wolf flaring behind his eyes as he gripped the front of Taylor’s shirt with his uninjured hand. “So why didn’t you take himbackto the foster home?Whydid you bring him intoourhouse?”
Taylor threw his arms out, his own wolf flaring in response. “What’s the point? What’s the fucking point? They keep sending him places he doesn’t want to be, they keep fucking his life overagain and again, and I… I can’t do it, JP. I can’t watch him go through the same shit I did.”
“And what about Mum and Dad, and the restaurant? What about the trouble this will bring on them when Manders is released later today? Because I’m sure as shit the CPS won’t remand him just because he had a bit of class A on him.”
Taylor rapidly shook his head. “No, there was another drugs den. More Love Dust. Manders was there.”
“They still won’t remand him. He’ll be bailed and you’ll get locked up for child abduction!” He pressed a knuckle into Taylor’s temple. “Use your fucking head, Tay.”
“Fuck you,” Taylor said through clenched teeth. “I know all that but?—”
William rose from the chair, his face setting into a hard glare. “I’ll go,” he said, face pale as he eyed Johnny warily.
Johnny took a deep breath, turning to him. “No,” he said evenly, raising a hand. “No, just sit down. Finish eating.” He turned, glaring at Taylor, then at the clothes over his shoulder. “I guess it explains why you didn’t pick me up.”
Taylor’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Yeah, I know,” he said, voice quiet. “Sorry about that.”
Johnny shook his head and slumped onto their tatty sofa, a hand steepled over his forehead like he was thinking. “Just…” He let out a breath. “I’m going for a shower. Just don’t do anything impulsive until I come back, alright?”
Taylor nodded dumbly, watching as Johnny drifted towards the stairs. He looked at William again, then towards the back door. “Why is my bedding on the washing line?” he said, kicking off his flipflops as he walked towards the window. “And is that a hole in my pillowcase?”
Taylor flushed, grabbing his shoulders and leading him back towards the stairs. “That isalsoa long story, but not one I can tell you right now.”
“Taylor, what’re you?—”
“Not now,” he said, eyeing the dried blood still clinging to the spirals of Johnny’s hair. “Just shower. You smell like shit.”
Johnny frowned, holding up his injured arm. “Difficult to wash with this fucking thing.”
Taylor was about to ask if he needed help, but the simmering anger in Johnny’s eyes made him reconsider. He let Johnny go and slumped into the seat next to William.
“You’re usually the mardy one,” William said, jamming a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Taylor huffed out a humourless laugh. “Yeah. Who knew getting beaten up could put a pisser on someone’s mood.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, Taylor chewing on his lip whilst William downed another bowl of cereal.
William’s eyes flicked across the table then towards the back door, he cradled the bowl of cereal as though Taylor was about to snatch it off him. Swallowing, he said, “Dad said something was gonna happen. I heard him laughing about it with his friends.”
