Chapter Nine
Andrew
I huff out a frustrated breath, annoyance prickling hot under my skin as I lie here alone in the tangled sheets.
My dick has gone half-soft from the sudden neglect, the ache between my legs now more irritating than anything else.
Slade has been gone for a long ten minutes already. What the hell is taking so long?
I push myself up slowly, wincing at the delicious soreness in my ass… the kind of deep, used-up ache that had felt so good only moments ago but now feels abruptly ruined.
I was so happy when Slade climbed into my bed.
I didn’t let it show; I didn’t want to seem obvious or clingy, but he initiated it.
He came to me. A small, secret smile tugs at my lips as I remember the way he said he was proud of me, the way he told me he wasn’t letting me move out.
That part still feels warm and impossible in my chest.
I tug my boxers back on, then grab the robe from the back of my desk chair and wrap it around myself, tying the belt with quick, irritated fingers. I pocket my phone and pad barefoot out of the room, down the hallway, and slowly down the stairs, the wooden steps cool beneath my feet.
Halfway down, I freeze. That voice… high and shaky, familiar in a way that twists something painful in my gut… drifts up from the open front door. I haven’t heard it in five years. My heart kicks hard against my ribs. No… that can’t be.
I force myself the rest of the way down and stop at the bottom step.
Slade’s standing there in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, one hand still gripping the front door handle like he’s forgotten how to let go.
The woman on the porch has dishevelled blonde-yellow hair with thick, dark brown roots showing through, and she keeps sniffing, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand in quick, restless motions.
She was never big, but anyone could see she’s lost a dangerous amount of weight.
My voice comes out in a croak of unsure disbelief. “Mom?”
She turns toward me, and my eyes go wide in shock.
This is not the woman I remember singing me lullabies and tucking me into bed when I was little.
Her eyes are dark and sunken, her jaw sharp and skeletal, the skin pulled tight across her cheekbones like it doesn’t belong to her anymore.
Jesus Christ… if ghouls existed, she’d be a close fit.
She hurries over, pushing past Slade. Her bony hands rise to cup my face as she says, voice cracking, “My baby… is that you?”
She sniffs again mid-sentence, the smell of something sharp, chemical, and unfamiliar rolling off her. Her fingers feel like dry twigs against my skin. My heart is racing so hard it hurts. What the hell is happening right now? Is this a nightmare?
She slides her arm around my shoulder and gestures vaguely at Slade, still sniffing and rubbing her nose. “I just… well, I need money, so I thought I’d ask my husband. I didn’t think you’d still be here, Drew.”
Suddenly I’m being yanked backward, Slade’s arm hooking around me and pulling me away from her in one sharp motion. He’s snapped out of his daze, eyes dark and furious. “Don’t you fucking touch him, Lorna. You’ve done enough damage.” He steps in front of me, his bigger frame blocking her from view.
My hands come up to rest discreetly on his shoulder blades, fingers pressing into the warm muscle there. I lean in and whisper, voice shaking, “Slade… what’s wrong with her?”
He points at her and says tightly, “Just wait there.”
She nods and gives a weak little gesture like where else is she gonna go.
Slade turns fully toward me, his broad back hiding me completely. He cups my face in both hands, his expression pale and strained. “ Fuck … I know this can’t be easy for you, but listen… I need you to ring Paul, okay?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “The cop? ”
Slade almost manages a grin, small and tired. “Usually, it’d be me speaking to him about you .”
I try to smile back, but it feels shaky and wrong on my face.
“Basically… she’s high as fuck,” he says quietly. “Or coming down from whatever it is. I don’t know. Just call him.”
I nod again. “Alright. I’ll tell him to come.”
Slade rests his forehead against mine for a brief second, his breath warm on my skin. “Don’t let this get to you too much, okay?”
I nod one more time, then turn and head into the living room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
Slade had left Paul’s cards on the sideboard weeks ago, the ones with his personal number and the department info…
hoping I’d see them and decide to better myself.
Now I’m picking one up with trembling fingers, about to call the same cop who had me a holding cell more times than I can count…
this time for someone else. Someone this town probably thought they’d never see again.
Paul’s going to have the same reaction we just did.
My hands are still shaking as I dial the number, pressing the phone to my ear, and sinking down onto the edge of the couch, knees bouncing restlessly.
It rings twice before Paul’s familiar, steady voice answers. “Paul Reynolds.”
I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out rough and unsteady. “Paul… it’s Andrew. Slade’s… uh, Andrew. ”
There’s a short pause on the other end, then his tone shifts, gentler but alert. “Andrew. You okay, kid? You don’t sound right.”
I swallow hard, staring at the floor. The image of my mom’s sunken eyes and skeletal face keeps flashing behind my eyelids.
“I… I’m not hurt or anything. But my mom just showed up at the door.
She… she looks really bad, Paul. She’s all skinny and her eyes are sunken and she keeps sniffing and rubbing her nose nonstop.
She smells… wrong . Like chemicals or something. She’s asking Slade for money.”
My voice cracks. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to steady myself.
Paul’s voice stays calm, but I can hear the seriousness underneath. “Alright, take a breath, Andrew. You’re doing good calling me. Is she still there right now?”
“Yeah. Slade’s at the door with her. He told her to wait and put himself between us. He looks pissed.”
“Good. That’s exactly what he should be doing,” Paul says.
“Listen, I’m going to send a couple of officers over right away.
We’ll check on her, see what she’s on, and make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.
If she’s under the influence and showing up demanding money, we can get her some help or at least get her off your property.
You and Slade stay inside if you can. Don’t engage with her more than necessary. ”
I nod even though he can’t see me, my free hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion. “Okay. Yeah. Thank you. ”
“Hey, Andrew,” Paul adds, softer now. “This has got to be hitting you hard, seeing her after all this time and in that state. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. Just stay with Slade, alright?”
I let out a shaky breath, the knot in my throat tightening. “I know. Thanks, Paul.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can too. Shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Hang in there, kid.”
The line goes dead. I sit here for a long moment, phone still clutched in my hand, staring at nothing.
My mom, the woman who used to sing me to sleep, is standing on our doorstep looking like a ghost, and all she wanted was money .
Not me, not Slade, not an apology… just money.
I drag a hand down my face, trying to push the image away, but it keeps coming back.
The sunken eyes. The bony fingers. The way she called me “my baby” like she hadn’t abandoned me.
A soft knock sounds on the living room door. I look up, heart still racing. Slade peeks his head in, offering me a soft, careful smile like he’s trying not to spook me.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
I can’t match it. My face feels frozen. I just lift the phone and wave it weakly. “I rang him.”
Slade glances back over his shoulder toward the front door before stepping fully inside and closing the door behind him with a soft click.
I frown, the question slipping out before I can stop it. “Where is she? ”
He lets out a bitter laugh and rolls his eyes, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “She uh… she passed out. She’s fine, though… pulse is steady, she’s breathing. I just left her sitting up against the wall. I couldn’t bear to look at her anymore.”
I should feel something… concern, worry, or fear for the woman who once carried me around on her hip and called me her little shadow.
But the care left a long time ago, drained out of me somewhere between the empty birthdays, the slammed doors, and the five silent years that followed.
All I feel right now is a hollow kind of numbness.
Slade crosses the room and sinks onto the couch beside me, close enough that our thighs brush. “How you doing?”
I shrug, the movement small and stiff. “Uh… I-I dunno really.”
A humourless laugh escapes me as I stare at the carpet. “You’re not gonna give her anything, are you?”
Slade scoffs, the sound sharp and immediate. “What? No . Of course not.”
He reaches over and pulls me into his side without asking, one strong arm sliding around my shoulders. I let myself lean into the warmth of him, breathing in the familiar scent of motor oil and soap that always clings to his skin.
“What the fuck happened to her?” I whisper .
Slade sighs, the sound heavy. “I really don’t know, Drew. I’m just as shocked as you are. That is not the woman I married.”
I take a shaky breath and force the next question out. “Do you… still love her?”
He barks out a short, surprised laugh. “Fuck no.”
I nod, small and quick.
Slade catches my chin with gentle fingers and tilts my face toward him. “You seriously thought that?”
I shrug again, suddenly feeling small and pointless. “I mean… you loved her once, right?”
He smiles, but it’s small and tired. “Yeah… a long damn time ago.”