Her eyes fly open, and then narrow. “What the fuck do you want?”
I grab her by the hair and wrap it around my fist for maximum yanking power, then pull her towards me.
“I want to tell you to your face that you’re done. You messed with my child. That’s unforgivable. Dylan can’t help you, your brother can’t help you, no one can.”
Her smile is mocking. “Aw, poor little holier-than-thou Mommy Marissa is angry with me. Enough with the act already. So what, you popped a kid out. Oh, wait, that’s the most interesting thing about you. Can’t you see it isn’t working, trying to lure Dylan back to you through the brat?”
The face I make is one of pity, but then I yank, and she hisses. She then tries to ring for the nurse, but I knock the button out of her hand.
“You can’t seriously think I’d ever want Dylan back,” I tell her once I’m done laughing. “Dylan is a boy. A lying little boy who’s afraid to have the difficult conversations. I should be thanking you for taking him off my hands, really.”
Her pursed lips twist, and then something evil flashes in her eyes. “I see how it is. You found yourself a new meal ticket with the Chasers. Don’t you think he’ll see through you soon, too? See that you’re pathetic and have absolutely nothing to offer a man, and then move on to better things?”
That bullet hits its mark, so I put my entire weight on her clavicle, and she screams.
“Worry about yourself, bitch. Think about what detoxing in jail is gonna feel like.” The terror in her face relieves some of the sting her words caused me. “You’ll regret putting my son in that car, mark my words.”
With that, I leave her room and go back to my baby.
“I honestly thought she was just cheating on you with Claw,” I hear Hawk telling Dylan when I enter. “If I had known that he was her dealer, I never would have allowed DJ in your home.”
They both look up at me, and I give Hawk a little smile. He’s the one holding DJ while Dylan sits on the bed with his forearms on his thighs.
“Me neither, man, you have to believe that,” Dylan says vehemently.
“I actually do,” Hawk replies. “Make sure to check your bank accounts and any safes you have. If she had the balls to steal from the Preacher, no offense, but she sure as hell stole from you.”
Dylan blanches, as if remembering something. “Shit. I have to go talk to her,” he exclaims on his way out.
“And where were you?” Hawk asks me knowingly.
I shake my head. “Can we go now?”
“I’ll ask the doctor.”
When Hawk returns a few minutes later, he’s carrying balloons and flowers, and he’s followed by what feels like a sea of denim vests. Of course, I start crying again.
We all cram into the tiny room, and, after we update them, Squid and Bev exchange a particularly dark look.
“Marissa,” Bev speaks first. “What do you want done about this?”
I look at my son’s hand in mine. How easily these tiny bones could have been crushed.
I look back up at Bev. “I want the Preacher’s phone number.”
*
“I called Yoda while you were finishing up with the Doctor,” Hawk tells me as we enter Phoenix. “She penciled you in for an appointment next Monday. We also arranged for a nurse friend of hers to spend the night at our place, to monitor DJ, just incase. Her name is Mariah something, Yoda will text Teach the details, and he’ll run the background check.”
“That’s great, thank you,” I say, once more stunned by his foresight.
After DJ is down for his nap, I drag my body to the couch and plop down. I feel like all my ships have sunk. Everything is awful, and I’m the worst person in the world.
“Marissa,” Hawk says gently as he sits down next to me.
He moves my hair out of my swollen eyes, and I bury my face in my hands. “Sweetheart, what is it?”
“You probably hate me now,” I manage to say.
