Chapter 13 Dom #2
Not even five fucking minutes with her, and I was acting like an angry kid. I used to try so hard not to be like her, to not rise to the bait, but she was like a disease that just kept coming back. It didn’t matter how I fought. There was always a piece of her that would never let me be free.
I could literally feel her calculating her next move down the line. “But we need a place to stay…” she trailed off.
“Then I’ll rent you an Airbnb. Send me the details first.” And I’d also contact whichever fake company she put on the report, and contact the council to check the investigator was a real person, and probably get Grace Fischer, my tech wizard and partner-in-crime, to do a thorough check just to make sure it was all legit.
“That will take too long. We’ve been told to leave by the end of the week.” Considering they owned the house, I doubted it.
“Mum, I have to be up early tomorrow for a case.”
She was silent except for her heavy breathing. It was kind of impressive how furious she could sound with one exhale. But calling her Mum stopped her, just for a second.
I knew what she was doing, but I wasn’t falling for it again. If I asked her what was wrong, she’d start sobbing, and then it would be even harder to put the phone down.
She took a shuddering breath. “I’ve called social services to come and take your sisters away,” she said so quietly that it didn’t match the pure shock that smashed into me.
The world went white as I fell back onto the couch, all the lightness in my body vanishing as the pillows absorbed my weight.
“What?” I croaked. My throat tight, heart frozen. I refused to show how easily she’d driven a knife into my chest.
Every word out of her mouth was a lie. I knew that. Even when she told me she loved me, there was an ulterior motive.
But this scared me more than her lies.
“It’s just until Terry and I get jobs and we have the money to take care of them again. They’ve agreed to put them into foster care until we’re stable enough to take them back.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
“We don’t have enough money, Dom. We can’t afford to raise two girls, not when Terry and I are so ill. They’ll be far better taken care of—”
“Shut up!” I hissed.
“Dom?” I could hear the little smile in her voice. She already knew she’d won.
“Shut the fuck up. How fucking dare you?”
“I can’t help it, darling. Life is just so difficult now. Everything is more expensive and we can’t afford to live like this.” She caught wind, the dramatics seeping into her fucking voice.
I shook, holding the phone so hard I thought it would break.
I couldn’t risk antagonising her. I knew she hadn’t called the services. She wouldn’t do that to her baby girls. But I couldn't be absolutely certain. And that was her leverage.
The first year I joined Harris, Walsh loving, working, doing whatever they could to experience something meaningful, even if they didn’t know it.
“Fine,” I said, the crack she had made when I was a child that was filled with pure fucking spite splitting wider as I gave up any hope of resistance.
“What was that?” she said with a playful lilt.
“I said, fine. I’ll transfer the money tonight.”
“That’s so kind of you. You know how much it means when you support us like this. Your sisters will be so happy.”
“I’m sure.” And I knew none of that money would go towards them. I didn’t even know what she did with it whenever she had money to spend.
“Well, if that’s all, I think I’ll get going,” she said airily, like we had just been chatting instead of her fucking blackmailing me. “So lovely to talk to you again.”
The phone clicked off immediately, but all I could hear was white noise.
There was nothing here, just a bland emptiness. Another confirmation that I had no power over one of the few things I actually cared about.
I’d already attempted to adopt my sisters twice, but I was ruled an unfit guardian because of my job.
Long hours, dangerous clients, and back then I only had a one-bedroom flat.
It was weak compared to two full-time stay-at-home parents in a three-bedroom house right by a school.
Even when I started helping Cat out with Keiran, it wasn’t enough with the kinds of cases I took.
Even if Sally did put them in care, the adoption agency wouldn’t let me take them.
I’d been close to asking the Fischers for help so many times, but I didn’t want to take the risk.
Sally could kick up a storm with maximum casualties.
It didn’t matter if she was tiny compared to their vast business empire.
I knew how dangerous she could be, especially if she put her mind to it.
I’d learnt how to weasel and scam from the best, after all.
Clutching my head, I pitched forwards, wrestling with the darkness that always threatened to swallow me when she got to me like that.
I just couldn’t stop it. I thought I was free, but it didn’t matter how far I’d come, how much I tried, how I spoke, dressed, or acted. I was always going to be fucking scum, and that would never change.