Chapter 18
“He’s troubled.”
“He’s not fucking troubled.” James’ angry voice echoes up the stairs like there’s a surround sound speaker in the hallway. “He beat a kid to a bloody pulp.”
Pot kettle, much?
“He needs help, James,” Maria says softly. “We need to make sure he has the support he needs.”
“You’re always too soft on him, on both of them. I mean, Jesus, she’s twelve and walks around like an eighteen-year-old. She looks like a whore.”
“James!” Maria says, shocked. “What the hell has happened to you?”
“You fucking happened,” he sneers. “You and those kids upstairs. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want them.”
He’s drunk.
As soon as we got home after the school meeting and the police station—let’s not forget that gem—he popped open a beer. He’s about six deep now, and has swapped to the spirits.
It’s not going to be a fun night.
Lucy’s bedroom door opens, and our eyes meet across the landing. She’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt, the makeup that she hides behind washed off, showing her true age. James is right. Lucy looks older than her age and acts like it, too. But when you live the lives we do, you grow up quickly.
She opens her door wider and nods her head, beckoning me in. I shake my head and continue to listen to the growing shouts.
“I can’t do this anymore, James.” I drop my head as sadness washes over me. “I can’t.” Maria’s voice carries up the stairs, broken, desolate. It’s like a stab to my chest.
My heart breaks for her. For my mum.
I may have a birth mother, but Maria is the only Mum I know. And I hate that James does what he does. I hate that she’s so powerless. I hate that she won’t tell anyone. I hate that she has to mop up my blood and ice my bruises, and I hate that I have to do the same to hers.
I hate this.
I can’t listen to this.
My eyes meet Lucy’s, and I kick off the door frame and go to the top of the stairs. Lucy’s eyes widen as she realises what I’m about to do.
Put myself between them.
I’ve started doing that more and more. He’s not angry at Maria, not tonight. Tonight, he’s angry at me.
It’s only fair that I get what I deserve, not her.
“No,” Lucy whispers, taking the few steps to grab my hand. “You can’t, not again.”
“He’ll hit her, Luce; I can’t stand by and let that happen. Can you go to Gemma’s? Don’t be here tonight.”
“I’m not leaving you.” She shakes her head, her eyes wide and filling with tears.
“Please, Cookie,” I beg her. “Please don’t be here. I’ll message you later.”
Her hand wraps around mine. She doesn’t say anything, instead she pulls me in for a hug. “You can’t protect everyone, Owen,” she whispers into my shoulder.
I pull back. My ribs screaming in pain from the last beating.
“But I can protect you, and I can divert his attention from Mu-Maria.” I correct my slip, and Lucy stares at me. Just stares at me with those bright, icy blue eyes like they are burning into my soul.
And my heart beats faster.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
“Please, Cookie.”
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I kiss the top of her head.
Maybe it’s because I’m scared. Maybe it’s because my heart is beating too fast and I can’t stop thinking about how bright blue her eyes are. How I want to do anything to protect her. How I can’t stop thinking about what Harry said.
About how I really want to kiss her, even though I shouldn’t.