8. Chapter 8
eight
Boston
Iget home before curfew. The apartment is dark and quiet when I unlock the door.
It’s comforting.
No TV blaring. No sounds from my mom’s bedroom or shadows moving under her door.
Only peace.
I check on Cassie and Bronx. They’re dead asleep.
Good.
I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying the party in my head on a loop. I can’t believe how beautiful Skye looked.
I can’t believe she was there with Archer.
I roll onto my side, shove my hands under the pillow, and exhale deeply.
I thought I had time—to maybe work up the nerve to tell her how I feel, to stop pretending I didn’t want her like that.
Turns out, I’m already too late.
Not exactly the best feeling to drift off to sleep to. But I do.
Only to jolt awake to a bloodcurdling scream ripping through the apartment. It’s punctuated by a loud crash.
“Boss?” Cassie’s voice floats shapeless through the room.
“It’s okay, Cass,” I whisper automatically. “Stay in bed.”
I’m already moving, tiptoeing out of my room and down the carpeted hallway.
The moment I round the corner into the living room, I stop cold.
There’s shitface, his hand around my mom’s throat, pinning her to the wall.
Four huge dudes stand around. Massive. Tattooed. All watching like they’ve got front-row seats to a UFC fight. The shelf that held framed photos of my siblings and me is on the ground, splintered into pieces, shards of glass scattered on the carpet.
I react before I can think better of it.
“Get off her, you piece of shit!”
I grab Eddie’s shirt and yank him back. He barely moves, but at least he lets go of my mom.
One of the guys with a shaved head and a flag tattoo crawling up his neck steps forward. Eddie stops him with a hand up, then turns to me slowly, a grin on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You don’t want to butt in on this, boy.”
“Don’t fucking touch her.” My heart’s pounding so hard I can feel it in my teeth.
“Boston, please. Go back to bed, baby,” my mom whimpers. Her throat looks red and raw.
“You should listen to your mother, Boston,” Eddie snarls.
I don’t move. “And you should get the fuck out of this apartment.”
Eddie’s expression contorts like this is amusing and annoying at the same time. “Funny. Your mom always tells me how smart you are,” he says softly. “But you’re acting real fucking stupid.”
He steps in close, and, fuck, he reeks. Of whiskey and stale sweat.
My mom stretches a shaky hand out. “Boss. Baby, please.”
All I see are the red marks on her throat. And Eddie’s split-lipped, yellow-toothed grin.
I swing.
The second my fist connects with his jaw, I know I fucked up.
Callused hands clamp around my arms, two of Eddie’s guys yanking me back so hard my shoulders scream.
“Oh boy,” Eddie chuckles. “You really are stupid.”
He rubs his chin, contemplating me for a second, then slams his fist into my gut.
Pain detonates through me, sucking all the air from my body at once. I don’t have time to get my bearings before Eddie lands another hit. This time to my face, making my vision spark.
I try to twist free, but I don’t stand a chance against the roiders immobilizing me. I might as well be a damn coat on a hook.
Eddie smashes his fist into my mouth. Blood floods my tongue, thick and warm.
“Think you’re a big man, huh?” Eddie laughs like he’s having a great fucking time. “Trying to play hero for your mommy?”
My knees buckle with his next punch to my stomach. The carpet rushes toward me, then disappears again as I’m yanked back onto my feet.
“Your mommy doesn’t need saving,” Eddie spits. “That slut knows exactly what she’s doing.” The word slut lands like a slap.
He steps back, unbuttons the sleeves of his flannel, then rolls them up, making a damn show of it.
“Your drug addict of a mother decided to withhold some earnings from me. I’m generous, but I have limits, too, you know?”
He pulls back, then delivers another blow to my cheek. Then my jaw. My vision blurs to black. The ringing in my ears swells until it drowns out everything except my own ragged breathing.
“Eddie, stop!” my mom screams.
He doesn’t.
“Go wait in the bedroom,” Eddie barks at her. “The boys will be in soon.”
He bends forward, cocking his head to make eye contact with me. “When I’m done with you, I’ll make sure your mom pays up. My boys are going to have a great fucking time tonight.”
Ice floods my veins. “No—”
His fist cracks against my jaw, eliciting a loud pop followed by a high-pitched ringing in my ears.
Eddie doesn’t even look winded. “Still running your mouth, Boston?”
He nods to the guys holding me. They grip my arms tighter, their fingers digging into my biceps until they burn. Eddie knees me in the stomach.
He goes on like this, kicking and punching me with no end in sight.
I can’t tell how much time passes—if I’m standing or floating.
My body isn’t mine anymore. I’m just something they’re holding up like a ragdoll.
Blood runs down my face, drips from my nose and mouth onto the carpet.
I try to keep my eyes open, to stay conscious. I’m afraid of what’ll happen if I pass out. What they’ll do to my mom. My siblings.
Eddie grabs my hair and jerks my head up. My left eye won’t open.
“What do you say, Boston?” He studies my face, chuckling. “Had enough for tonight?”
He swings again.
And everything goes black.