“He was preoccupied with two of the cheerleaders. Can’t remember their names, though. They’re new ones,” Marcus answered him.
“Shit. Does this mean he won’t be home so we can’t go swing by and get some of Mrs. T’s cookies?” Preston whined.
“We can still go get some cookies. Mrs. T doesn’t care if Dewayne is with us or not,” Marcus assured him.
Sometimes Preston reminded me of a kid. But it was part of his charm, I guess. Girls loved it. Until he brushed them off once he got some. Then they didn’t love it so much.
Marcus closed his door and looked over at me. “Do you think he’ll always be this way?”
Chuckling, I shook my head. No. I knew he wouldn’t. He had three kids to raise. When he was with us, he was free to do what he wanted, so he lived wild. When he went home, he became a dad.
“He needs this. When he isn’t home, he needs to live,” I replied.
Marcus frowned. He had the easiest life of us all. Although Dewayne’s was pretty sweet. Marcus had the happy family and the money. The life Preston had was something Marcus didn’t completely understand. He’d been trying to take care of Preston since we were kids and Preston would come to school without a lunch. But he didn’t know just how bad shit was. Preston didn’t talk about it much.
I only knew because my life wasn’t roses either and Preston felt like he could talk about it with me.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Marcus finally said.
I leaned forward and turned up the radio as Marcus pulled out onto the road.
I had to wait until tomorrow to see Trisha. Damn.
Chapter Eight
Trisha
“Just go,” Krit snapped at me. He was scared. I could see it in his eyes. He knew his stepmother wouldn’t hit him too hard. But she had no limits with me. I didn’t care, though—I wasn’t letting her hurt him.
“No,” I replied, standing up from the table where Krit and I had been having an after-school snack. We weren’t supposed to eat the cereal without permission. It was for breakfast only. But we had both been hungry and thought we had time before she got home. If she wasn’t lying on the sofa watching trashy talk shows with a beer in her hand when we got here, it meant she was out and wouldn’t be home until later.
“What the FUCK?” she screeched as Krit shot up out of his chair to stand in front of me. Granted, he was taller than me now, but he was still younger. I was supposed to protect him. Not the other way around.
I tried to shove him aside, but he wasn’t budging. “Stay behind me,” he warned with a much more commanding voice than I was used to hearing my little brother use.
That made her cackle—a hard, sadistic laugh. “What, boy, you think you’re gonna protect that mooching sorry-ass slut from me just because you’re bigger than me?”
She took a step toward Krit, and his entire body tensed. “You. Won’t. Hurt. Me,” she said in a soft voice that gave me chills. “I’m your momma. You won’t touch me.”
“We wanted a snack. We’ve been at school all day and we were hungry. Lunch didn’t fill us up,” Krit explained. I heard the little boy come out of him. The scared one who always tried to reason with his crazy-ass stepmother. I wasn’t going to let him touch her to protect me. He’d never forgive himself.
I moved fast and jumped in front of him. “Get out of here, Krit,” I yelled at him, and barely had time to prepare myself for the slap across my face.
“SHIT! Mom, stop it!” Krit demanded, and I felt his hands clasp around my arms.
“Stupid, stupid, ugly slut.” She hurled words at me that she thought hurt me. Coming from someone I cared about, maybe they would. But she’d been calling me names all my life. I didn’t care what she said about me.
She pulled back at first, and Krit tried to move me out of the way. But instead her swing hit my hurt ribs. The scream that erupted out of me sounded like it was coming from somewhere else as black spots formed in my vision and I crumpled to the ground, trying to breathe.
I heard Krit yelling, but I couldn’t move. The pain was paralyzing, and I hadn’t been able to draw a breath yet. The black spots all bonded together until there was just darkness.
***
“Dammit, Trish, wake up.” Krit’s desperate voice worried me.
I fought to open my eyes. The pain had started to subside. I was breathing again. Looking around, I tried to sit up in case the crazy woman we called Mother was getting ready to strike again.
“Be still. She’s gone,” Krit said, pressing a hand to my shoulder to keep me from getting up. “She probably won’t be back tonight.”