Page 113 of Moms of Mayhem
Shannon was halfway up the walk when the screen door banged open. Ray stumbled out onto the porch, one arm braced on the frame, a half-empty bottle clutched in the other. Even from the truck, we could hear her dad, slurred, loud, and mean.
“Where the hell you been, girl? You think you can come and go like you pay bills around here?” he barked, voice cracking at the edges.
“I do pay the bills.”
“Don’t you sass me. I needed a ride to the goddamn store hours ago! You think you’re better than this family now? That it?”
Shannon flinched but didn’t stop. Just kept walking like she could walk through it. Like if she didn’t react, maybe it wouldn’t count.
The man kept going, insulting her hair, her clothes, even gesturing at the truck when he called her a whore. All of it was spat so loud, we heard every single poisonous thing he said.
Mikko’s door opened without a word.
He stepped out, calm and controlled. But I saw the tightness in his jaw, the way his fists curled. His eyes were locked on Shannon’s dad like he already had atarget.
“Mikko—” I said.
Too late. He was already moving.
Logan cursed under his breath and scrambled out after him. “Nope. Nope, nope. We are not making the news today.”
I was right behind them.
Mikko picked up speed, long strides chewing up the frozen ground between the road and the porch. Logan reached him first, grabbing his arm, but it was like trying to stop a tank.
“We can’t deck a drunk guy on his own porch. That’s a lawsuit. That’s jail time.”
Mikko didn’t answer. He just kept walking.
I came around the other side and stepped between him and the path. “Hey. Look at me.”
Nothing. Just that icy focus he got when something snapped. I’d seen it on the ice more than once, usually right before he dropped gloves and broke a man’s nose.
“Mikko,” I said again, firmer now. “This isn’t your fight.”
His eyes flicked to me, barely a second of hesitation, but it was enough.
Behind him, Shannon’s dad shouted something so nasty and venom-laced I felt it in my spine. She walked past him and went inside, her shoulders stiff, her head still down.
“Goddamn ungrateful brat,” the man muttered, then seemed to realize three men stood on his driveway.
Mikko’s hands were still clenched. Logan looked ready to tackle him if he took another step.
“Well, if it isn’t Beckett Conway,” Ray said, his words slurred. “I heard you were back but figured it couldn’t be true. No way would Linwood’s little favorite return, not evenfor his sick mother. Your dad was right to always be ashamed of you. Wasn’t even sure you were his kid.”
Ray stumbled, then grabbed the porch railing for balance. While my dad had never been kind, alcohol made him more indifferent than mean. Ray though, he was just as mean as I remembered.
He swayed slightly, shoulders hunched like the weight of his own bitterness was eating him alive. His words came out thick with alcohol and venom. “Nothing to say, Beckett? Thought you big-time NHL types didn’t take shit from anyone. Or maybe you’re still just that useless little bastard who ran off when things got hard.”
I stepped up onto the porch, the wood creaking under my shoes. Ray didn’t back away, but he didn’t meet my eyes either. Cowards never did.
I got close enough to smell the booze on his breath. “You want to run your mouth at me, go ahead. But if you ever talk to Shannon like that again, I swear to God, I’ll bury what’s left of you in that barn and burn it to the ground.”
Ray scoffed, eyes flicking up just long enough to catch the fury in mine.
“I’ll press charges,” he muttered, puffing up again. “You so much as touch me, I’ll ruin you.”
I took another half-step closer, and he flinched. “You’ve ruined enough already, I think.”
