Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
DELPHI
It’s been two weeks since Theo left, and I still feel like I’m missing a limb.
I’ve texted him every day, trying to keep things light.
This is hard enough on him as it is. Greer mentioned the judge preferring previous foster parents not to get involved because it can muddy the waters, but I wasn’t explicitly told to leave him alone.
I refuse to abandon him. The judge can suck my proverbial dick.
Does he have any idea what damage that could do to a kid who already has abandonment issues?
I never outright asked, but I assume this judge is a fucking man with the emotional depth of a bowl of soup.
I let Theo know he was welcome to stop by The Book Nook anytime he wanted, reminding him it was a great study place for him and his friends now that the library was closed.
I need him to know he’s welcome, without forcing his hand.
He’d come when he was ready. I had to accept that.
However hard on me all this is, it was a million times harder on Theo.
Every time he came back for a visit, it would be tainted with the knowledge he would have to go back.
So I sucked it up, pasted on a smile, and pretended everything was normal.
I kissed Kruger on the cheek each morning and went to work. I served my customers with a smile and a wink. But inside I was numb, stuck in limbo, while I waited for the other shoe to drop.
Every day, I fought the urge to slip out of work for an hour and sit in front of the trailer, watching the comings and goings to make sure Theo was safe.
Not that I thought Diane would be dumb enough to let her dealer come to her, with CPS doing frequent unannounced spot checks, but the unease that sat heavily on my chest had little faith in the woman who so easily threw her son to the wolves.
Every day that I waited for news, either that Diane had finally stepped up or that she had fucked things up again, I felt my sanity slip.
I needed to be ready in case everything went tits up, but I also couldn’t stop living while I waited.
It wasn’t fair to Kruger or the life we were building.
Therefore, instead of going home when I finished today, I was going to the clubhouse for a little while and surprise him there.
I’d been spending less time at the clubhouse, mostly because I was busy with the store, but it’s also hard to pretend I’m okay when a crowd of people are watching my every mood.
I realized, though, that I was reverting to old habits.
A text on my phone has me picking it up and frowning. “I thought you had a meeting?” I mutter as I open the text and see it’s a video.
Before I can look at it, Con appears in the doorway. He grins at me, then laughs when I get up and hurry around the desk for a hug.
“You know, one day Kruger will shoot me just so you stop hugging me.”
“He won’t shoot you, mostly because he knows it would make me sad.”
“Good point.” He laughs, taking a step back. “How’s Theo doing?”
I blow out a sharp breath, not prepared for his question.
“Shit, sorry, that was careless.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just hard. He’s doing okay, but it’s hard to know for sure over text messages.”
“He’s a tough kid.”
“I know. I just wish he didn’t have to be.”
My phone chimes again. I walk back over to the desk and grab it. I read the text and swallow. “Shoot. Mindy went out to grab milk for the morning rush. She was supposed to lock up later, but her mom had a fall.”
“Shit, anything I can do?”
I shake my head. “She’s gonna drop off the milk at her place and head to the hospital. If she can’t make it in tomorrow, I’ll have Kruger go over and grab it. It does mean I need to stay for another hour, though. Mindy is the only one I trust with the security code at the moment.”
“Nah, I get it. I’m on bar duty in thirty mins, but I’ll call Havoc and explain.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get Legs to swing by and pick me up on the way. She offered earlier, anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m not quite done here, so I guess it all worked out.
“Alright, I’ll catch you in a bit.” He winks before heading out.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I suck in a deep breath and grab the phone, reading the message again. One that came from Theo, not Mindy, like I pretended.
Do you have any of that tea I like?
With a shaky hand, I grab my bag and rummage around for my wallet. Once I find it, I pull the business card from inside and dial the number. As soon as they pick up, I speak. “Don? It’s Delphi. I need a ride.”
“Of course. I’m in the area, as it happens. What time were you looking at?”
“Soon as possible.”
“No problem at all. I’m on my way.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Think nothing of it. I’m glad you called.”
When he hangs up, I toss my phone on my desk.
I squat and type the code for the bottom drawer.
I ease it open, glancing at the door. Not wanting to waste time, I pull the black pouch from the back of the drawer and look inside, feeling something settle when I see the gun is still there, along with the ammo.
I put the pouch in my bag and grab the phone hidden there.
I open up the last text thread and type one out.
Hi. This is Diane, Theo’s mom. Could you come over? Theo misses you, and I’d really like to clear the air between us. I want you to be a part of his life, if you still want to. I have to work later, but I have an hour before I need to leave, if that works?
Grabbing my cell phone from the desk, I text back.
Of course. I’d love that too. I’m on my way.
I throw both phones in my bag and slip the strap over my body before smoothing my hands over my hair and squaring my shoulders. I leave my office and head for the kitchen, snagging a pair of disposable gloves. I shove them in my pocket before I walk out to the front of the store.
“Hey, Benny, I’m heading out.”
“Okay, Delphi. Wait, didn’t your ride just leave?”
“Something came up, but my new ride should be here any minute.”
“Oh, good. Have fun.”
“Thanks.”
Bless Con for believing me about not trusting my staff yet. I wouldn’t let them work here at all if I didn’t trust them.
I walk out after giving the customers, who wave at me, a friendly nod in return. As I pull the door shut, Don pulls up in front of me with a grin.
“Hello, lovely,” he greets me as I climb in.
“Hey, Don. Thanks for coming.” I tell him where I want to go and lean back against the seat, letting my eyes drift closed for a minute as I run through everything that could go wrong.
In the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if I thought I would be walking into a hail of bullets, I wouldn’t turn around. That message was the shoe finally dropping.
There are a million things I still have to learn about my boy, but there is one thing I do know.
Theo doesn’t drink tea.
Don drops me off at the edge of the trailer park with a promise from me to call him again when I need him.
The afternoon has taken on an eerie stillness, as if the whole world has taken a collective breath in anticipation of what’s to come.
I don’t bother with the front door. Not yet.
Instead, I head to the back end of the trailer, where Theo’s room is.
I pull my gloves from my bag and slip them on, saying a silent thanks that he remembered to leave the window open a crack.
I edge my fingers under the lip of it, and as gently as I can, I slide it open as far as it can go.
I peer inside the darkened room, finding it empty, which is both a relief and a worry.
We had a plan for this scenario. So far, I’ve got no reason to believe anything has gone wrong, but that doesn’t mean I expect things to be easy.
The furniture has been moved around. Now the dresser is on the far side of the wall, and the bed sits under the window.
“Thanks, Theo,” I whisper. He did this for me. I hitch myself up and wiggle my way inside. I have as much grace as a drunk elephant on roller skates. When I hit the bed after tumbling through the window, I have to swallow back a manic laugh at how well that kid knows me.
I lie still for a moment, listening for anything out of place. The trailer remains quiet. The absence of noise is perhaps worse than listening to screaming, shouting, and things breaking because at least then I’d know what to expect. Now I feel like I’m flying blind.
I get to my feet and creep toward the door, moving to the left when I hit the end of the rug as Theo’s words about a creaky floorboard filter through my head.
I turn the knob and pull the door open a fraction.
I can hear the faint sound of the television playing some kind of game show.
I don’t hear anyone talking, so I creep down the hallway and head for the living room.
I pull the gun from my bag and hold it ready in front of me.
I click off the safety, which seems overly loud in the quiet of the trailer.
I peer around the corner and see the kitchen is empty.
I step in a little farther and freeze when I see the top of Josh’s head on the sofa facing the TV.
The floor creaks under my weight, making me wince, but he doesn’t stir.
With my gun aimed at him, I move around the sofa to stand in front of him.
He’s slumped over, out cold, an almost empty bottle of beer on the scratched coffee table.
It’s not the beer that’s knocked him out—not if everything has gone according to plan.
I pick up the bottle and take it to the sink, draining the last of it out before rinsing the bottle with hot water.
I take it to the trash and shake my head when I find it half-filled with bottles already.
I push the one in my hand toward the bottom and take an empty one instead, returning it to the table.