What Doesn't Destroy Us (The Devil's Dust #1)(2)

I look a little lower on his leather cut and see a diamond shaped patch that says ‘1%’. My throat seizes up tighter as I try to speak, worried what my mom's intentions are. I don’t remember exactly what the 1% means, but I know it’s bad. “M—mom.”

She throws her hand up to shut me up.

What the hell is she doing? This is not some casual pedestrian to ask for directions.

“I’m Lady, do you have something from Bull?” my mother says, assuredly.

Lady? Her name is not Lady, it’s Sadie. And who the hell is Bull?

The scary man called Trigger eyes her up. “Yeah, here are your plane tickets. Bull pulled some strings to get you on the next flight. You’ve got an hour before the flight leaves to L.A.” The big, burly man hands my mother an envelope, his voice deep and ominous.

He points at my mother. “You tell Bull this makes us even.“ He looks at me and then at my mother. “Safe trip, ladies,” he says as he walks away.

“Yeah, thanks.” She says opening the folder to peek inside.

What the hell? She acted as if she was talking to a damned girl scout. She isn’t fazed at all, but I am about to piss myself.

“Mind telling me what the f*ck is going on?” I curse at my mother, tired of this whole charade.

Her eyes widen at my language. She is not pleased; go figure. My whole life I’ve been told how to act and what to say. Always told to stay on the right path; the path my mother and Stevin are paving for me. It pretty much consists of nothing but school. Little does she know, I am still undecided on my college major. She’d have a stroke if she knew I didn’t have my whole life planned out. She has never let me do anything wild or reckless. She always catches me right before and then yells at me about how I act just like my father and she didn’t go through hell to give me a better life, a better path, for me to mess it up. It seems like that is the only time she is around, to tell me what a failure I am. The last time I tried to gain any independence, I was nineteen and I was tired of being on lock down.

“You look smoking hot, if you don’t get laid tonight there’s no hope for womankind,” Daisy says, eyeing my strapless black dress.

“You look pretty hot yourself,” I compliment Daisy, giving a sultry wink. Daisy was the new girl working at the coffee shop, whom I’d taken a liking to. She knew of a club that didn’t card, so we were headed out in hopes of hooking up with a hunk.

I eyed myself in the mirror one last time; black dress, red heels, and red purse. Yep. I looked like a vixen.

A half hour later, still giggling, we arrived at the club only to find my mother and Stevin waiting at the entrance.

Fuck! Mother Fuck!

“Danielle Lexington, what are you thinking?” my mother said, grabbing my arm tightly.

“Get off!” I yelled at her, making a scene.

“You look like a prostitute. Get your ass back in that cab and go home now,” she yells in my face, spit flying against my skin.

“I’m nineteen years old. I’m an adult. You can’t boss me around anymore,” I yelled back at her, pulling my arm back with vengeance.

“You want to be an adult, act like one,“ she hissed back.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, rage filled my spine. I wanted to punch the woman who calls herself my mother.

“I’m done with your shit, I have enough money to move out,“ I said calmly, ready to finally see the blow on her face from me abandoning her. It took me nearly a year to save, but I finally had enough for a decent start; a start without my mother.

She smirked, making my unusual courage flee.

“Oh, honey,” she sneered. “I’ve already cleared that account; you have nothing.” Then she grinned like the devil, making me gasp in horror.

“What?” I asked, mortified yet completely enraged.

“Go ahead; leave, move out, go live in the streets. You came from trash, you might as well live like it,” she said, pointing out for the millionth time how I’m nothing but my father’s spawn. Finally, someone she despises more than me; my father, whoever he is.

“That’s what I thought, get back in that cab.” She pushed me in the direction of the cab.

“I will try to explain on the plane, Dani. We don’t have time right now.” My mother’s whisper, as she grabs my hand, pulls me from my trip down memory lane.

I found out later that the only reason I got caught that night was because of my damned neighbor that lived on the floor under us. She was my mom’s little mouse, always spying on me. She was outside when we got home that night, so pleased I arrived safely and asking my mother if she did her job right. Her job at ratting me out, that is. I was an adult and trapped living with my mom. My mother’s and my relationship is a ‘go along to get along’ kind of thing; even if I’m miserable. Sometimes the streets didn’t sound so bad.

It’s another hour before we climb aboard the flight. I’m still curious how Trigger got us plane tickets so quickly and who is Bull? My mother sighs loudly, grabbing my attention.

“I suppose I should tell you the whole story,” my mother says as she runs her hands over her face, irritated.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” I respond, sarcastically.

“I met your father at a party in L.A. about twenty-two years ago. He was quite good looking; you look a lot like him.” She looks over at me, her face unreadable. I’m not sure if I’m bringing her painful memories or good ones, but judging by the way she acts toward me, I’m guessing painful.