CHAPTER 19 #2
“She’s a pain in the ass,” Misfit replied. I chuckled under my breath, but the mood shifted again. She was staring at the ceiling now, her arms crossed, her jaw locked like she regretted saying any of it.
“You didn’t have to tell me that,” I said after a moment.
“I’m not gonna use it against you.” And I meant it, finding myself lowering my own guard towards her.
She looked at me. Eyes narrowed, the weight of too many memories behind them.
She didn’t say anything, just gave a small, humourless laugh and looked away.
“Whatever,” she muttered. “Just … forget I said anything.”
The rain softened as the night deepened.
We hadn’t spoken, but neither of us had moved either.
Misfit had curled herself beside me, half beneath the throw blanket Squeeks had left on the foot of the bed.
Her breathing had slowed, evening out into something almost peaceful.
I stayed still, my back against the worn mattress, arms folded behind my head.
Pain still throbbed dull and deep beneath my ribs, but I barely noticed it anymore.
The drugs finally starting to take effect.
She caught my attention as she glanced back towards me from time to time, and I could see her body start to relax.
She soon turned herself, leaned over the bed, and recovered her damp jacket from the floor once more.
She rummaged through it, pulling out a cigarette packet and a small plastic case that held her headphones.
Settling them down on her chest, she opened the crinkled packet, letting out a thankful sigh that the cigarettes were still intact.
She placed one between her lips, lighting it as her eyes drifted to me.
My expression didn’t change. I didn’t expect anything from her, but she offered it to me anyway.
I hesitated, my eyes meeting hers—an unspoken offering sitting between us.
I reached forward, brushing my hand against hers for a moment as I took the cigarette in my fingers.
Her eyes quickly shifted from mine as she lit a second one, taking in a deep drag.
Creatively make shifting an ashtray out of the now-empty packet, placing it between us, a clear mark of her boundary.
I had no intentions of pushing it; hell, it had been a while since I’d felt this awkwardly comfortable around a woman.
And it was kinda nice not to have someone wanting something from me for a change.
She settled herself, holding the smoke between her lips as she flicked open the cap on her headphones.
Placing one into her ear, she held the other out in her hand towards me.
She wasn’t looking at me this time, a faint sign of reluctance, but she offered anyway.
I took it, placing it in my ear. It wasn’t my usual taste in music, but it felt like a connecting step between us—another part of the puzzle that was Misfit.
I couldn’t help but watch her sleeping as if she had no worries in the world, one hand clenched near her mouth, the other tucked between her knees.
It was strange seeing her like this. Still and unarmoured.
The storm between us had quieted, at least for tonight.
She had begun to open up to me, and a piece of her past crept out like a secret too heavy to hold; she’d let me see it, even if she regretted it afterwards.
I knew the version of her that most people saw: a burning fire, and fists first. She seemed to tear through the world before it could tear through her.
But this version, curled beside me like a real person with pain and half-healed scars, was something else entirely.
Was this really happening? Her trusting me, even just a little?
Me, of all people. I’d bolted on her, left her in a hot-wired cop car with sirens screaming behind her.
And she still came back. Still stood over me, patching me up, as I cracked wise-ass comments and she gave half-threats, not punching me in the throat like I probably deserved
A lock of her hair had fallen across her cheek. Her mouth twitched like she was dreaming something she couldn’t outrun. I reached out to move it, but stopped myself; she’d kill me for that. Instead, I closed my eyes. Letting the music fill the silence between us.
Morning didn’t come with sunlight, just another dull grey which bled through the blinds, the patter of leftover rain sliding down the windowpane.
Everything in my body ached, throbbing under the skin, stiff in the joints like I’d been scraped out and poorly stitched back together.
I shifted, wincing as I pushed myself up slowly, inch by inch, until I was sitting on the edge of the bed.
A low hiss slipped through my teeth as I reached towards the bedside table, picking up the pain meds.
My eyes examined the packet; this was strong shit.
My hands were shaking as I pushed two pills into my palm, dry swallowing them without hesitation.
Leaning back on my hands, I felt the bed creak softly behind me.
I turned my head, looking over my shoulder.
She was still there, sprawled across the blankets in a way that showed she didn’t care how she looked.
One leg sticking out from under the covers, her arm draped over her face as if the faint light was overwhelming.
Her dark blonde hair sprawled over the pillow, her mouth slightly open, with gentle breathing.
I watched her for a moment longer than I probably should have.
A small smile crept onto my face as a part of me wanted to lean back, wake her up, say something silly, or tease her, but I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to punch me, injured or not.
So, I just left her to sleep. She looked peaceful.
So, I sat there in silence, the medication slowly easing the edge.
The vibration jolted me out of the quiet. My phone, buried beneath yesterday’s clothes at the foot of the bed, buzzed again. I reached for it with a grimace, every muscle in my side complaining as I stretched. The screen lit up with a name I hadn’t expected to see. Mum. The message was brief.
“Are you okay? Can we meet? Not at the house. Away from Danny.”
I just stared at it, thumb hovering above the reply button. She’d never texted me, not unless she needed something.
It was sad to recall what Mum was like before she hit the booze, before Danny and the men who ruined everything.
She laughed easily back then. The kind of laugh that came out of her chest, unguarded, like she hadn’t yet learned how cruel the world could be.
Her hair was brushed, loose down her back, and she always wore a faded cardigan she refused to throw away because it was ‘lucky’.
She sang while she cleaned, dancing around the kitchen with me in her arms, pulling faces at me until I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe.
I was her constant shadow. I was so pissy when she got pregnant with Squeeks; I didn’t want to share her, but I saw how it softened her. She’d talk to her all the time.
“Come here,” she’d said, patting her belly gently. “Say hi to your sister.”
I remember pressing my ear against her stomach reluctantly, feeling the strange, fluttering movement beneath my cheek. Her face would light up every time I wrinkled my nose.
“She kicks like you,” Mum said. “Stubborn already.”
Then Dad left, or maybe he’d already gone long before his body followed. The glow in her smile never returned. One drink turned into another, then into something stronger, something quieter—anything to make the shaking stop.
The warmth faded slow, so slowly you almost didn’t notice it leaving, transforming herself into the sharp-tongued woman who chose numbness over motherhood.
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing that Misfit hadn’t moved, still lost in sleep.
My finger hovered as I let out a deep breath through my nose, then moved.
“Where?” I replied, her response was quick, almost as if she were waiting for me to answer.
“That old cafe near the overpass. 11 a.m.”
I checked the time: 9:48 a.m. Just enough to throw myself together and drag my sorry ass across town.
I moved slowly, every step testing the limits of what my body would let me do without dropping me.
I found a half-clean hoodie near the radiator, tugged it over my head with a wince, and slipped on my damp boots.
Grabbing the stub of a pencil from the kitchen drawer and a scrap of paper, I scribbled the note quickly.
“Had to step out. Be back soon. Don’t burn the place down. S.”
I paused. Then added a line beneath it, almost as an afterthought.
“Not sure if you’ll give a shit. But… figured I’d let you know anyway. P.S. You snore.”
I placed it gently on the pillow beside her, taking her in one last time before heading for the door.
Outside, the rain had started again. The sky hung low and miserable, matching the heaviness in my chest. As I stepped into the street, I pulled the hood low over my head, unable to shake the strange twisting feeling in my stomach.
My mum wanted to see me away from Danny?
And Misfit was still inside, asleep in my bed.
Had I somehow fallen into a weird alternate dimension when Danny kicked the shit out of me?
By the time I reached the cafe, I was fifteen minutes late.
Taking in shallow breaths as I pushed on the door of the cafe.
The bell above gave a weak jingle; the warmth from inside was a welcome feeling against my rain-damp clothes.
The place was mostly empty, just a couple of old timers nursing tea by the window. She stood up the second she saw me.
Her eyes widened, hand flying to her mouth, muffling her words. “Jesus, Screech!”
She was on me before I could say anything, arms wrapping around me in a sudden, desperate hug. I flinched, sucking in a sharp breath as pain ripped up my side. She pulled back instantly, her hands hovering now like she wanted to hold me but didn’t know how.
“Sorry … I didn’t mean to, are you okay?”
I glared at her, “Do I look ok?”
Her eyes scanned my face. The swelling. The busted lip. The bruises blooming down the side of my neck.
But what caught my attention was the mark under her eye, barely covered with makeup. A yellowish bruise.
"What about you?” I asked, quieter now. My voice losing some of its edge, “Danny?”
She looked away, jaw tight. “It’s nothing. He’s just been… stressed.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together, “Right,” I said, deadpan. “Stressed.” She turned and gestured for me to follow her to a booth tucked in the corner, away from the windows. I limped after her, easing down onto the bench with a hiss.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said after a beat, folding her hands on the table.
“I didn’t either,” I admitted, “Kinda thought you forgot I existed.”
She tilted her head toward me. “I didn’t,” she said. “It’s just… Danny, he watches everything. It’s hard.” Looking down at her hands.
I leaned back, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in my ribs. “You called me here for a reason. What is it?”
She hesitated, meeting my eyes, “You can’t come back to the house. It’s too dangerous for you. Danny won’t hesitate to take things further if you turn up again.”
I blinked slowly, not surprised by her words. “Fuckin let him.”
She snapped, “Screech, don’t be fucking stupid!” Curious eyes shifted around the cafe, landing on us as her voice rose.
I leaned closer to her over the table, lowering my tone, “You honestly think I’d just fuck off and leave Squeeks.” My finger jabbed into the table, “You signed us up to this shit. You could have walked away from that cunt and stopped all of this, but no! You kept us in the gutter after dad bailed.”
She reached out for my hand over the table as I snatched it away. “Baby please… I’m just trying to—”
I quickly interrupted, my own anger spilling from me. “Don’t fucking baby me now. You haven’t treated me like I’m worth anything to you for a long fucking time. Unless ya mates needed a quick fuck.”
Her guilty eyes darted around the cafe before landing back on mine. Rage written all over my battered face, I leaned back just waiting for her next excuse. We sat in silence for a beat.
Her fingers curled tighter around her cup. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better,” she said suddenly, voice breaking. “When you were younger. When we started bringing you into things, I should’ve—”
I looked away from her. “Don’t,” I cut in, voice sharp.
She whispered, looking down at her hands, “I don’t want him breaking you too.” Too late, I thought to myself, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I just stared at her. For the first time in years, she seemed genuinely present. Not dulled out or numb.
“I need to get her out.”
Mum's eyes rose, an instant fear glowing in her eyes. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because right now, she's the only thing keeping him bearable. She’s doing alright—”
“Yeah, for now. What else has he got her doing, huh? Shadowing mummy to learn the ropes? Or has he already thrown her into the deep end?”
Guilt riddled her features as she reached for me again. “No, it's not like that—”
My hand slammed hard against the table, “Then what is it like, Mum? Because from where I'm sitting, he's already got his claws in her. I should have dragged her from that house the moment I got out of juvie.”
Her eyes narrowed as the familiar venom returned to her face. “You know, you're not exactly innocent in all of this. The moment you cut him out of the deal with Selene, he took it out on the rest of us. All while you were living the life of luxury.”
My eyes widened as I gestured over my battered appearance, “Does this look like the life of luxury to you?”
She let out a deep sigh, covering her face with her hands before running them through her damp hair. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. I just … I'm trying my best to keep Squeeks out of it.”
I scoffed, finding it harder to look at her.
Things really were turning to shit under that roof, which meant it was only a matter of time before Squeeks made the wrong step. He would come down on her like a ton of bricks. Over my dead body.
“Something needs to change, and quick,” I said eventually.
She looked at me, hope flickering behind her swollen eyes. “I know, if I can help, I will.”
I don’t think she knew what I really meant by my words, this wasn’t going to be some midnight escape. I wanted to put an end to this once and for all. The cunt needed to be taken out.