Silver Bastard(30)

Guess I’d keep my fingers crossed that body would belong to Joe Collins. Unlikely, but a man can hope.



BECCA

When we hit cell service, my phone lit up with a missed call from my mom. Like always, her name sent a thrill of perverse hope through me. Maybe this time she was calling to say she’d done it—she’d actually left Teeny. For years now I’d been trying to convince her to walk out and come live with me. Twice she’d said she was doing it, then backed out at the last minute. This devastated me, which is hard to explain, given how terrible she was as a mother. Hell, as a person. But that’s the thing about parents—you love them despite everything, because they’re yours.

I stole a look at Batma . . . Puck and wondered how stupid it would be to call her back in front of him.

Probably pretty stupid.

We’d never talked about my mom, but it wasn’t a stretch to assume he wasn’t her biggest fan. Hopefully the call wasn’t urgent—I’d have to wait until my break at school to get back to her. Generally our conversations fell into three categories:

1) “I’m leaving Teeny for real this time, Becca. I just need some money for a bus ticket and I’ll come up.”

2) “I love you, baby,” drunken slurring. “I’m so sorry for what I did. You’ll see. We can fix it. Be a family.” Barfing noise.

3) “I need money, sweetheart. Just this once. We can’t pay the (insert bill here) and they’re going to (insert consequence here).”

I’d love to say I never sent her any money, but that would be a lie. I loved her. I wanted her back. I wanted to be a whole person again and some small part of me insisted that nobody can be a whole person without their mommy.

Fortunately I rarely let that small part make the decisions, and I definitely didn’t give it access to my checking account. Nope, if I sent her something, it was just tips. Those didn’t count.

(Right.)

So instead of returning the call, I used the time to check my email, which I couldn’t get at home. There wasn’t much in my in-box. Several ads for “enhancement” products. A quick note from Danielle saying she’d run into Joe, and that he’d left her makeup bag hanging on my doorknob because she’d forgotten it in his truck last night—could I bring it in to work with me?

Hmmm . . . That was going to be complicated. I hadn’t figured out the whole ride/home/work situation in my head. I wrote her a quick note saying I’d try, then put the phone in my purse.

By the time we pulled up to the school, I’d managed to relax despite Puck’s oh-so-friendly presence.

“I’ll see you at five,” he grunted as I hopped out. I wanted to tell him not to worry about it, but I couldn’t justify making Danielle drive all that way just because I was scared of one biker. One big, tough biker who just happened to be the only man I’d ever really wanted to—

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, my smile bright and plastic.

What the hell was wrong with me?

—

“Hi, Mom.”

“Becca baby! I’m so glad you called. It’s been awful, I don’t even know what to say, it’s so bad.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, wondering if I really wanted to know. It always ended the same anyway . . .

“Teeny’s finally lost his shit,” she replied, and for once her voice was sober and somewhat focused. “I think he’s going to hurt me.”

“Mom, he’s been beating the crap out of you for years. What’s changed?”

“No, those were just little arguments,” she said, brushing me off. “Marriage is hard. You’ll learn that someday, if you ever manage to find yourself a man. No, this is different. He’s been really angry and upset, and he pulled out his gun last night and held it to my head for an hour. His eyes were awful, Becca. Like a devil’s eyes. He says I’ve been cheating on him and now I’m going to pay.”

My chest tightened.

“Mom, you need to get out of there.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice a tense whisper. “He just got home. I’ll try to call later. I need money, baby. Money to leave him. If I don’t get out I’m dead.”

Then she hung up the phone.

My head started to sway and I felt dizzy.

“You okay?” asked Caitlyn, one of my classmates. Apparently she’d caught the tail end of my phone call. I looked up to find her face full of exaggerated concern, a newly lit cigarette dangling forgotten in her fingers.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. Great. Now everyone would be up in my shit, because Caitlyn was the biggest gossip in the whole damned school.