Page 127 of Maddox
Would Ice use me to get to Joey? I don’t know but I can’t take the risk because Joey is long fucking gone.
Since I can’t admit that I’m holed up with the Saints, I lie and say, “I’ve been sick.”
Does she know that Joey is missing? Why was Ice at our house?
After a moment, she clears her throat and says, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Maybe some homemade soup?”
“No, I’m good.”
How many times has she nursed me back to health? Before shit hit the fan, she was just my mom, and I loved her as much as I believe she loved me.
How do I reconcile that with what I’ve seen and heard though?
“Delaney…” she says but I interject.
“What are you hiding from me, Mom? Is Joey my dad?”
The pain grounds me, when I clench my fingers into a ball and I suck back another bout of tears when she says, “Why don’t you come home? I know you’re confused but we can talk about it.”
“Can we?” I ask, shaking my head but before she can answer, movement from the door catches my eye.
Meeting Maddox’s narrow eyed gaze, I freeze until he lifts a brow, and I say, “Gotta go.”
“Delan–”
With a wince, I hang up before he rips the phone from my hand and says, “Who the fuck was that?”
“Hey,” I say, reaching for it, but he steps back and holds it over his head.
“Who?” he growls.
“Chill. It was my mom about school.”
“Your mom?” he asks, cocking his head.
“Yeah.” What’s his deal? Geez.
He glances at the phone and then at me before leaning in until our mouths touch to say, “She MC?”
When I shake my head, he sneers, “If she ain’t MC, why the fuck are you here?”
Rearing back, I stare at him dumbly. Where did all this hate come from?
“Look,” I say, pressing my hand against his chest.
I need freaking air because despite his bone deep hatred, even my traitorous palms tingle from the heat of his skin.
When his nostrils flare and he glances at my fingers, I shove against him and bark, “Sorry, am I cramping your style?”
Uh oh, I’ve riled the beast and when his eyes darken, I scoot back too late because he grabs my wrists and attempts to pin me to the mattress.
With a trickle of unease, I wrench away and crawl across the bed, muttering, “Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” he roars, and I shrink back when he climbs onto the bed.
“Yes, fuck you!” I snap. “You want to know why I’m not home? Because my mom was so high out of her mind she didn’t notice when my brother wandered into the backyard. She didn’t know when he fell in the pool. She didn’t fucking know that…”
My throat closes on the last and I crawl away before falling to the floor on the other side.
