Page 6 of Endgame

The cemetery was quiet and I was glad. I needed to vent and I wasn’t in the mood to wait around. It sucked major ass that the only person I felt I could truly confide in consisted of bones and ash and was six feet beneath me, but that’s how life went sometimes. “I hate him so much, Momma. I’m fucking burning inside. I feel like busting every wall in that house just to stop myself from busting his face.”

Brushing aside some leaves and mulch, I exhaled a heavy sigh and sank down on the grass beside her. “He’s at home waiting on Cassidy to arrive.” I picked at several shoots of green grass as I spoke. “This one’s got a kid, too –Mercedes.” Feeling the anger rise inside of my body, I forced myself to breathe deep and slow before continuing. “Doesn’t matter. They won’t ever mean a damn thing to me.” That, I was absolutely sure of. “She’s just another number to me, Momma.” I scrunched my nose up in disgust. “Her kid, too.”

The sound of footsteps approaching caused me to clamp my mouth shut. Stiffening, I turned my head to one side and watched as a girl I had grown up with wandered down the path towards me. I instantly recognized her, and with that recognition came a huge swell of pity.

“Rourke,” she acknowledged quietly.

I nodded. “Molly.”

“Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Haven’t been here in a while,” I replied honestly.

“It’s always hard when you’ve been away for a while.” Molly stopped four plots down from where I was sitting, eyes locked on the two headstones laying side by side. “The guilt is the worst.” I watched as she knelt down on the grass and clasped her hands together. “Hey, Momma. Hey, Bobby.” Molly turned to face me and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve been taking care of her grave” She gestured towards my mother’s plot. “I pick out weeds anytime they sprout up and lay some fresh flowers down every time I bring some.”

“Thank you.” My voice was thick and gruff. Molly was the one person in this town who, when my own life went to shit, I could look at and thinkat leastI don’t have it as bad as she does.That was her mother and little brother down there. I’d lost my mother, but I still had Amelia. Molly was alone.

“I heard about your Daddy getting remarried again,” she added with a small frown. “I’m not sure whether I should congratulate you or offer you my condolences.”

“The latter, Molly.” I smirked and climbed to my feet. “Always the latter.”

“See you at school, I guess,” she called out when I turned to leave.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I’ll see you.”

Mercedes

THE FIRST THING THAT hit me when I arrived in Ocean Bay was the heat. It was stifling and my ass cheeks had left their imprint on the leather interior of my car.

“Goddamn,” I muttered as I dragged my dehydrated carcass out of the car. Covering my eyes with my hand, I took in my surroundings in a state of semi-awe/semi-dismay. “This place is…intense.”

“It’s amazing, right?” Mom squealed as she got out and walked around to my side of the car. “This is it, Mercy,” she whispered in delight as she caught ahold of my hands and squeezed. “We’ve made it, baby.”

“God, Mom.” I shook my head in embarrassment. It was bad enough that I knew she thought of this place as her meal ticket, but hearing her say it out loud was too freaking much.

“There’s my girl!”

The sound of Gabe’s sickeningly smooth voice had my mother squealing like a little girl and dashing off in the direction of the huge mofo mansion/beach house in front of us.

Ugh.

“Gabe!” Wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck, Mom threw herself into his embrace.

Meanwhile, I attempted not to be sick.

This was beyond gross.

Placing my shades on my head, I’d needed them while driving in the goddamn sun, I reached into the backseat and retrieved my backpack.

Yeah, I wasn’t a purse kind of girl. Give me a backpack any day. Besides, I carried a lot of crap around with me. I had fair reason to. Most seventeen-year olds didn’t have a mother who could move them on a whim like I had.

Dragging my ass up the driveway, I slipped my backpack onto my shoulders and held onto the straps like they were a comfort blanket.

I didn’t need this shit.

A new home.

A new town.

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