Page 23 of Letters to the Lost

“You don’t want to help?” Sebastian asks,confused.

“Nope, I’m good. I have to go see Kathleen, but I’ll be back soon.”

“When?”

Shrugging is all I can do, if I tell them then they’ll have questions. Questions I don’t have the time to answer.

“I’ll see you soon,” I say, then I turn and walk from the room.

Getting to the garage I can’t help the smile that takes over my face when my sleek black Ducati Panigale comes into view. Swinging my leg over the seat I position myself until I’m comfortable before donning my helmet, ensuring the strap is secure. The purr of my bike beneath my legs is exactly what I need to ground myself before I see my mom.

“If it isn’t my elusive child!” Mom shouts from the front door of my childhood home, her newest foster kid hiding behind her leg, big brown eyes warily watching me as I approach.

“Hi, Mom,” I kiss her cheek and pull her in for a hug before crouching down to the small boy who doesn’t look any older than six “And who is this?”

“This is Chase,” Mom tells me, ruffling the little boy's chestnut brown hair as he still clings to her.

“Hi Chase, I’m Dominic,” I tell him, holding out my hand for him to take.

Totally fine if he doesn’t but Mom taught me to allow them the option just in case they want to push themselves.

“Hi,” he says, his voice small and timid.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chase. Have you seen my old racetrack set in the playroom?”

“Uh-huh! Mama Kathleen said I could play with it, but only if I was careful.”

“Do you want to play with the racetrack together, after I catch up with Mama Kathleen?”

“Can we?” his little voice squeaks, his wide brown eyes looking up at my mom with so much hope and excitement.

“You can, but only once you’ve cleaned your room. Go on now Chase, we’ll be in the kitchen if you need us,” Mom tells him, stroking his hair lovingly.

“Okay!” he shouts before he tears away from Mom’s legs and through the house. We both chuckle at his enthusiasm and head into the house after him.

The smell of home hits me as soon as I step over the threshold, relaxing me further. The darkness slips away a little more here, not completely, not like it does with my Cupcake but enough that I feel more human than I normally do.

I feel safe here. It was the first place I ever felt that feeling and I think it always will be.

“How are you doing Mom?” I ask her, taking in the new wrinkles around her eyes and the stiffness in her walk “Let me get the coffee you go sit.”

“Nonsense boy! I’m not a cripple yet,” she admonishes, smacking me lightly on the arm and pushing for me to sit at the dining table.

Listening, I do as I’m told and sit my ass down at the table. I watch Mom bustle around the kitchen getting the coffee ready and even making up a plate of cookies.

The worn brown cabinets and black worktops haven’t changed at all since I was a kid, and the wide window allows the sun to illuminate the lime-green walls. I technically still stay here but since Cupcake came along, I’ve barely been home.

“How is that lovely girl of yours?” Mom asks me.

Unable to keep the grimace from my face, Mom’s face turns quizzical. “Dominic?”

“She’s currently in a program for her mental health. She tried to take her own life, we found her in the bathtub with her wrists sliced open…” I trail off, the images of her bloodied water covering the floor flash in my mind making me feel ill.

“Oh, my boy,” Mom gasps, covering her mouth with her wrinkled hand, tears gather in her eyes, “Why?”

“Her mom had been sending her messages for months, taunting her about her sister’s death,” I tell her.

Mom knows nothing about what Autumn has been through, not feeling like it was my place to tell her, but I need someone to lean on right now. I may be the demon that Mrs. McKay claims, but right now I feel like the same scared little boy I was and the only person who can offer me the comfort I need is my mom.

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