The First Last Boy(29)

"I'm doing my best."

"No, you're not. You said Mom would be okay but she's not home!"

"Mark, you have to understand-"

"I'm not supposed to understand. I'm the kid." He started crying and yelled, "I'm the goddamned kid!"

I started crying, too. "Mark, I'm sorry." I reached for him, feeling awful, and he moved away. "Why don't you talk to me?"

"What for?"

He started to leave the kitchen and I grabbed his arm. "Mark, please talk to me."

"You don't hear me." He shook his head and pulled away. "I want Mom."

"Mark, wait, come back. You have to eat. I'll let you have the cereal."

"I don't want it now. You can't make me eat and I won't until I'm sick  and then I'll be in the hospital with Mom. She'll want to come home if  I'm with her." He slammed into his room.

If things were this hard now, how much worse were they going to get if  this cycle kept on going? My boss had been great about working my shifts  out so that I didn't have evenings but he'd made it clear he needed me  to get back on my regular schedule. I wouldn't have anyone to watch Mark  if I had to work evenings. But I had to do something or we weren't  going to eat.         

     



 

Pushing my back against the wall, I slid down until my butt bumped the  floor. I wanted to call Brooklyn or Shelby but I knew they were both  busy with their own drama. They didn't need mine. Taking out my phone, I  scrolled through the contacts. I needed to talk to someone. Dad. What a  joke. I should erase his number. Mom's number came up in the contact  list and I froze.

Fingers shaking, I pressed send and listened to the phone ring until her  voicemail picked up. Her cheerful voice poured across my starved heart,  telling me to leave her a message and she'd call me back. "Hi, Mom.  It's Tana. Um...I don't know if you can hear me, but I could really use  your help. Mark hates me. The sink in the bathroom is leaking under the  counter and there's damage-"the beep signaled I'd run out of time.

Crying now, I redialed her number and after her voicemail message went  off, I started talking again. "I keep thinking that if I had gone out to  get the salad dressing, you wouldn't have been the one to get shot.  Mark would have you here instead of me and you would know what to do,  you know? Everyone keeps telling me how sorry they are but it doesn't  matter. Oh, Mom. I only wish-" the beep sounded again and I dropped the  phone into my lap, burying my head in my hands.

The doorbell rang. Scrubbing my hand down my face as if that would hide  my swollen eyes and red nose, I went to see who it was. Brooklyn had  taught me to stand to one side of the door whenever someone knocked or  rang the doorbell. That way, if anyone shot through the door, I wouldn't  get hit. I had a lot to learn about life on the streets.

Ryan was outside. I yanked open the door, pushed aside the screen, and threw myself into his arms. My lifeline back to shore.







RYAN



"Hey." I tried to pull back from her to find out what was going on, but  Tana clung to me and wouldn't let go. Unable to help myself, I'd stopped  by to check on her and was glad that I had. Soon, I wouldn't be able to  be near her at all. I held her as I maneuvered us into the house and  closed the door. Her body shook with sobs as she told me Mark hated her,  and her mother's voicemail kept cutting her off.

Rubbing my hands up and down her back, enjoying the feel of her in my  arms, I said, "I'm here." I held her until she quieted and raised her  face toward mine.

"Could you stay the night with me?"

My brain screamed at me to say no, to keep a distance growing between us  so I could let her go when the time came, but I ignored it. "Sure," I  said, knowing it wasn't what she really needed because I wasn't what she  needed. "What's going on?"

"Mark hates me because I can't bring Mom home, I can't cook and he's  sick of eating the crap that I try to make. The sink is leaking. I've  been trying to pay the hospital plus all the bills here and we never  have enough money for groceries or anything else. I need to get back on  the evening shift because the tips are better and I don't know what I'm  going to do with Mark. There's no one to watch him and he can't stay  here alone. I don't have a car because the police still have it."

"Slow down, honey." I wiped at the tears rolling down her face. "All of  this stuff is fixable." I frowned as her words sunk in. "How are you  paying the hospital bills?"

"I paid it already. I used my college savings."

Her college savings?

"How much of it did you use?" I pressed.

"Seven thousand dollars. It's everything I had saved."

I felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. I knew how much getting  out of this place and making it to college meant to Tana. This financial  fallout in her life was my fault, but maybe I could help fix some of  the consequences caused by what I'd done. I could make sure I squared  the hospital for any future costs and I could get her college money  back. I knew a way to make an easy grand a night.

I would talk Juvante into setting up a few bare knuckle boxing matches.  Though I was a champion with 24-0, the fights weren't something any of  us had bragged about. They were underground because they were illegal.  People got hurt, some of them permanently. "Don't worry. I'll think of  something." I looked around the room. "Where's Mark?"

"He's in his room."

"Mark doesn't hate you. I'll talk to him. Get ready and we'll go to the store and I'll buy some groceries."

She sighed. "I didn't tell you all that's going on to get you to spend  your money on us." She lifted one side of her shoulders. "I only needed  someone to vent to."         

     



 

"Well, you've got him. Now get ready."

"I think I made a mistake. I shouldn't have asked you to stay the night.  I can't lean on you because-" She stopped as if realizing she'd said  too much.

"Because why?"

Starting over, she said, "I talked to Brooklyn. She hinted that there  were some pretty bad things in your past. I'm afraid to lean on you  because I'm afraid your past isn't finished and maybe there are things  you should tell me about what happened to my mom, but you haven't."  Licking her lips, her eyes searching mine, she put her hand on mine and  said pleadingly, "You can tell me anything."

I could lie to her, give her the reassurance she sought from me but I  couldn't. I held her gaze. "I'll talk to Mark while you get ready."

Tana lowered her head and sighed, then walked off. My hands closed into  fists. I wanted to punch a wall, but I didn't. I'd sworn I'd never let  my emotions rule my actions. I'd never let anyone see when I felt hurt  or pain or fear. That control gave me a reputation as a cold bastard,  but I'd seen what happened when men who weren't in control of themselves  flew into a temper. The innocent always paid for that. I would never be  that kind of man.

Tapping on Mark's bedroom door, I waited until he said it was okay to enter.

"What happened in here?" His room was neat with not a single toy out of place.

"I thought if I kept my room clean and I was good maybe Mom would come home." He shuffled his feet. "But she didn't."

Shit. I took a seat on the end of his bed. In the bean bag chair across  from me, Mark looked small and lost. "This isn't your fault. The world  is a seriously fucked up place and sometimes, shitty things happen to  good people. It doesn't make sense and it hurts like hell."

"You used the five dollar word." He tucked his legs under him. "You have  to pay the swear jar. It got really full whenever Mom talked to my  dad."

I pulled some ones from my wallet and passed it over. He turned the  bills over in his hand and said, "I tried, but I can't be the man of the  house. I don't have a job."

I smiled at that. "You're doing fine."

"I fought with Tana." He told me about their argument.

"Sometimes, a guy eats stuff he doesn't like and he keeps his mouth shut  when he's mad even when he'd rather yell and slam doors."

"Why?"

"Because a guy should always try to be nice to girls."

Mark thought that over. "I'm not really mad at Tana."

"I know that."

He held up the dollars. "I want to buy Mom some flowers."

"We can do that on the way home from the store."

His eyes lit up. "Cool. Can I drive your car?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"In about eight years."

"That's not funny." He climbed out of the bean bag chair and dug a pair  of shoes from the beneath the bed. As he pulled on a pair of socks, he  sent me a look from the corner of his eyes. "How come my dad doesn't  want me?"

I knelt in front of him and put my hand on his shoulder to give him a  gentle squeeze. His simple question hit me hard. How many times had I  asked myself a similar question? Only mine had been "How come nobody  wants me?" I propped his foot up on my knee and started unthreading his  shoelace to thread it correctly. "You're a lucky, guy, Creature."