Page 8 of Blood and Thorns
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
I winced when I accidentally pulled at the cut on my lip, tasting blood on my tongue.“Next time, I hope you don’t pay the interest,”the man had chuckled before backhanding me. My head had snapped to the side, but before I could react, he’d already walked away.
Gazing out the window, I watched as raindrops raceddown the glass, each one desperate to win. I must’ve been lost in a daze, silently rooting for the ridiculous competition, because when I finally blinked, I suddenly recognised the street outside. The bus rumbled to a stop, and jumping up I stepped out, taking a moment to let the rain wash over me.
It wasn’t long before I was soaked to the bone, but I didn’t care. My body shivered, and yet I stood for a moment more. My fingers ached from the cold, my hair slicked to my forehead, and still I didn’t want to move.
It was a few minutes before I finally made my way home, my keys rattling in my hand. The door opened, and I was immediately greeted by cursing, followed by a crash.
“Dad?” I frowned, wanting to know why he was still awake at 2 a.m. “What are you doing?”
Dad didn’t even look up from where he was throwing things into a large cardboard box. A kitchen towel, a mug, and then a lamp. “You’re late,” he said, grabbing a few of his mechanic monthly magazines. They flew across the room, landing on the heap. “The bar closed at one, and it doesn’t take a fucking hour this late to get home.”
“I had to pay O’Conner.”
“He’s paid? Good, that’s one less thing to think about.” He finally turned, his eyes wild before they settled on my face. “O’Conner do that?”
I tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Dad’s eyes lingered a moment more, lips pressed into a thin line. “What the fuck are you doing still standing there? Pack. We’re moving.”
“What? Why?” We’d been here three years, which was the longest we’d stayed in one place since I could remember. The flat may not be much, but it was the only constant thing I had. “I’ve already paid–”
“It’s not O’Connor, Ara. It’s… everyone else. People are fucking disappearing, or turning up dead,” he muttered, quieter this time, almost as if he was talking to himself before returning his attention to me. “It’s not like you bring any fucking money into this house to support us. So it’s up to me, isn’t it?”
“Dad, we can’t leave. You have your business and–”
“Fixing cars barely makes ends meet, and my luck these past few months hasn’t exactly helped my game.” He dragged a hand down his face, his fingers trembling slightly. “We can hardly make rent, and the water’s just been turned off.”
“Who else do you owe?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stilled, a nerve feathering in his jaw. “Baby girl…”
“Dad!”
“Look, it doesn’t matter.”
Goosebumps prickled along my skin, and even though I knew I was freezing, heat burned through my blood. “Clearly it does if you’re trying to pack the bloody lamp!” It wasn’t even a nice lamp. “Can you not borrow the money from someone else to cover until we figure it out?”
“No, I’ve been fucking marked,” he sneered, shaking his head. “No one is lending me shit. Now, go pack or–”
A smash, like glass shattering below.
“Fucking kids again,” Dad growled. “Go. You have ten minutes before we’re leaving.” He didn’t wait for me to reply, grumbling as he went to deal with the kids likely trying to steal some scrap.
I stood there, looking at the living room which had been wrecked. We didn’t have much to begin with, but Dad had frantically thrown everything into the box. He’d clearly lost his temper at one point, because bottle shards glinted on the carpet.
I thought of my books. Hundreds I’d claimed as my trophies, displayed with pride along my makeshift bookshelf. Then there were my clothes and the silly empty perfume bottles I liked to line up by my bed. I wouldn’t be able to pack them all. Dad would want me to use a small suitcase with the bare essentials, and that was it. I was never allowed to pack more, and each time we moved I lost everything. Only to have to start again.
Another new city.
Another new job.
The same cycle on repeat.
No.I couldn’t do this again. Iwouldn’tdo this again.
We’d figure it out. We always did.
