Gun Shy(25)

“What the fuck’s he doing here?” I ask.

My mom looks me up and down. “Dropping off some money, since my own son can’t spot me twenty dollars.”

“Whatever.”

She glares at me as she brushes past, the boys following. They’re stir-crazy, no doubt. “Stay here!” she snaps at them. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The boys go back to their Legos. I wonder if she’s just drugged them or if she’s started beating them, as well. At this point, nothing would surprise me.

Mom shrugs into her own winter coat and slams the door behind her. A few seconds pass and then I hear a car door slam, followed by the sound of an engine tearing off at high speed.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, waiting for her to come back inside. I count to five inside my head, just like I’ve been taught. I do that five times over and she’s still not back inside, so I open the front door and step out onto the stoop, scanning the yard.

She’s gone. I can see the rear end of the smart black town car she’s gotten into as it crests the ridge at the top of the hill and disappears.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, turning to go back inside. Less than five minutes and she’s taken off. That IS a record.

“Derek says you shouldn’t say fuck,” Hannah says. She’s been standing right behind me, and I almost knocked her over when I turned.

“Shit, Hannah,” I say, one hand on my chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“You shouldn’t say shit or hell, either,” she says, her face serious. Her hair is soaking wet from the shower and I’m afraid if I don’t get her inside soon, it’ll start to form icicles.

“Let’s forget about Derek,” I say, putting my hand in the small of Hannah’s back and guiding her into the trailer. “Let’s pretend we never met him.”

Hannah wrinkles up her nose at me, but she doesn’t argue.

“Pike!” I yell. I don’t need to go looking for my brother; his piece of shit car is out front, so he’s in this trailer somewhere.

He appears a moment later, eyes red, smelling like dirty bong water. “Hey. You’re back.”

He’s gotten weirder while I’ve been away. He’s got a giant tongue piercing that looks like a ball of metal rolling around his mouth, and he’s dyed his blonde hair jet black.

“You auditioning for My Chemical Romance?” I ask, punching him lightly on the shoulder. I’m not sure whether to laugh or be fucking disturbed that my younger brother looks like an emo.

He frowns, a lip piercing glinting in the harsh light.

“Hannah’s pregnant,” I say.

“No shit,” Pike replies, looking bored.

I fight the urge to throw him up against the wall and throttle him; I’d break the wall before I did any damage to him, and now we don’t have Derek to fix it.

“I told you to watch her while I was gone,” I say to my brother. He looks at the floor, with embarrassment or anger, I can’t tell.

Maybe both.

“I’ve been in Reno,” he mutters. “Selling a little. Mom’s checks stopped coming.”

I raise my eyebrows so high they almost hit the fucking roof. Not that that’d take much; I can barely stand straight without hitting the ceiling in this tiny shithole.

“They stopped coming, or she spent them?” I ask.

Pike shrugs. “It’s all the same, right? Either way, I had to pay the bills since you were gone. Keep the heat on. Feed these kids.”

I take a step back and decide that maybe Pike doesn’t need the living shit beaten out of him, after all. I take a twenty-dollar bill out of my jeans pocket, the twenty Jennifer insisted I keep and hand it to Pike.

“What’s this for?” he asks, holding the money like it’s diseased.

“Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Thanksgiving dinner,” Pike repeats, sounding unimpressed.

“Yeah. I missed it last year. And the seven years before that. I need you to go to the store and get some things.”

He looks dubious. “We don’t celebrate shit like Thanksgiving.”

“We do now!” I snap. “Go.”

“And get what?”

I let out a long breath. My head hurts already and it’s barely noon. “Get some chicken pieces. Look for the ones with the sticker. They’re always fine a few days past the date. Some yams. Cauliflower or broccoli, whatever’s cheaper. Milk. Cheese – a small package, that shit isn’t cheap. Cranberry sauce if you can afford it. Make sure it adds up right before you take it all to the register.”

I take out a second twenty as another thought strikes me. “Prenatal vitamins. Get the biggest bottle you can afford. Where’s the dog?”

Pike looks uneasy, and for a moment my heart sinks. “Please don’t tell me she’s dead,” I say.

He shakes his head quickly. “No. We didn’t have money for dog food, and Cassie kept feeding her. She stays up there most of the time at the Carlino place.”

The mention of Cassie stabs me like an icepick to my heart; it takes every ounce of willpower not to physically grab at my chest to stop it from hurting. I’m glad Rox is with her. A dog is good protection, among other things, since I haven’t been there for her.