Page 81 of Iron Hearts

“Mom!” I cried and threw one of the patio couch pillows at her. She caught it, laughing, and stuffed it behind her.

I took another hit, and handed her back the joint and she took it to finish it off.

“What’s his name, again?” she asked.

“Striker,” I said after a long pause in which I held in the green smoke long enough. I could feel the tension in my back and neck start to loosen as the high started to take effect.

“What kind of a name is that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

I rolled my eyes, “Quit acting brand new – you’ve lived around this shit longer than I’ve been alive. It’s his road name.”

“What’s his real name?” she asked.

“Zachary,” I said.

“Zachary…” she drew out his name, fishing for a last name and I snorted.

“I know his last name,” I said. “What’re you gonna do? Run a background check on him?” for some reason, likely because we were high, we both started laughing at that and the giggles became infectious until both of us were nearly pissing ourselves laughing.

“You know your daddy would,” she said and for a fraction of a second my heart seized in my breast and the thought flashed through my brain;she knows! How the hell does she know?That was, of course,beforeit clicked, that she meant ‘Daddy’ as in myactual father.

“Oh, pfft! For sure!” I agreed, hoping my face or body language hadn’t given anything away.

“It took everything in him not to threaten your prom date, hehatedthat kid.”

I snorted and laughed at that –Ihad hated my prom date by the time prom actually happened. I would have beenmuchbetter off going stag or whatever, becausefuck Riley Acosta.Jerk.

He’d gone around tellingeveryonehow he was going to knock me up with a prom night dumpster baby and how he didn’t give a fuck. He’d be at the University of Tennessee before I could even come up with a positive pregnancy test.

Creepy fucker.

I told my mom about it and she stared at me aghast.

“This Striker guy better not be anything like that,” she said.

I smiled in spite of myself and said, “Not even remotely. Striker is more mature than that, for one, and part of the reason I like him so much is… I don’t know… I feel safe with him. He’s not like that at all, otherwise I would have already dropped him like a bad habit.”

“Yeah, well, if he ever turns that way you’d better.”

I smiled at my mom and told her the truth as I stretched and felt a few satisfying pops in my back, “Don’t worry, Mom, all I have is you and Dad to look to as examples. You guys were pure couple’s goals. I won’t settle for anything less. I promise you that.”

Shit, it was the wrong thing to say, because she stared at me for several moments and then broke down right into tears.

“Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, scooching down the couch at her and wrapping her up in a tight hug.

“No, no!” she said, waving me off some. “I know, it’s just – I’m so damn proud of you!”

I sniffed tearing up becauseshewas teared up and said, “What?”

“I’m so proud of you! You know what’s right and what not to put up with, and I’m proud of you!”

Ah, shucks…

“I love you, Mom…”

I mean, what the hell else was there to say?

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

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