Page 24 of Won't Let Go
Fuck him for using her to get pussy after all she’s been through. Prick.
Me: Don’t touch her again. We clear?
Viper: Crystal. So, we good?
Me: Yeah. For now.
Viper: Hands off. Got it.
Me: Next time, I’ll put a bullet in you.
Viper: I hear you.
Me: Good. Now fuck off.
Viper: Love you, too, bro.
“White Boy, are you listening to me?” Bitty shrills.
I run my fingers through my hair. “Hmm?”
She squeals in annoyance. “You know what? Screw you. I deserve better than this.”
She’s right, she does. When I hum the affirmative like a dick, Bitty screams a solid paragraph of obscenities and hangs up.
Sighing in relief to be done dealing with her silly blowup, I flop onto Hunter’s bed and stare up at the ceiling covered in posters of hot women, courtesy of the brothers. I rest my phone on my chest and tuck my arms behind my head.
What a night.
When I got out of the shower, Jade was already in bed. I need to apologize to her in the morning for my behavior. Giving her the cold shoulder was uncalled for. I got caught up in my feelings and took it out on her. That’s on me.
Fuck. Why are relationships so damn complicated? It doesn’t matter if it’s a friendship or more. There’s always something poppin’ off.
There’s a bang on the front door, and my phone buzzes with a security alert. Before I roll my ass outta bed, I open the app to see who’s interrupting us at midnight.
It’s my mom on the steps, and Blimp’s on his bike, parked out front.
I connect the chat feature on the door camera. “What do you need, Mom?”
She squats down to put her entire face in the frame. “To talk.”
“I have a phone.”
“It has to be in person.”
Of course it does. Whatever’s convenient for her.
“It’s after midnight.” Any normal person would wait until morning, out of respect.
“Please, Josh.”
The wobble of emotion in her voice gets my ass in gear. On a loud sigh, I get up and meet her on the front steps, where we sit side by side to have this chat—her in a Cher wig, leopard-print pants with a black crop top, and matching thigh-high boots, and me in white boxers.
Mom wrings her fingers in her lap as Blimp lights up a fat one on his bike. I know him well. We’ve been close for a long time. Even before I joined the club, he was my mom’s preferred brother. They were fuck buddies for what feels like close to a decade, so he’s been around a lot. If he’s riding her over here at this hour and giving us space to handle our business, it’s important.
“I’m sorry,” my mom croaks, side-eyeing me. “I… I should have told you. I should have told you her plan. I know you’re mad at me. I know I fucked up. I… I just want to see her and you. I don’t want you to hate me.” Wiping the back of her hand across her face, she sniffles, and it hits me right where it always does, square in the center of my chest. It’s always like this with us. She does something stupid, I’m mad for a while, and she apologizes. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Given I’m her son, it should be the other way around, but it’s not and never has been. I’m the steady in her life.
I bump my shoulder into hers, so she knows I don’t hold a grudge. “Mom, did I hate you when that dick Carl beat the shit out of me after I threw his needles in the trash, so he’d stop gettin’ you both high?”
