“Well?” he pushes, baring his teeth like an animal. He reminds me so much of Toby with that expression. The disgust and repulsion. It’s all too familiar.
“Needed to talk to Lo,” I offer.
“If you’re another one of Jase’s whores, you can back the fuck away.” He grips my wrist, as if he has power over me, his eyes—razor-sharp and hateful—bore into mine. “My mom doesn’t need your shit, and he’s done with you all. I’ll fucking make it happen myself.” His hand tightens, squeezing me as if he has a single right. Are people really scared of this asshole?
I scoff. “First of all, tweener... gross. Second, I’m here for your mother. Third of all, extra gross. He’s not my type.”
He laughs emphatically, no traces of humor present. “Wallets don’t have to look good to get pussy. They just have to be big.”
My eyes narrow at the little shit, seeing how much he probably gets away with. If I wasn’t used to dickish behavior, I’d probably be more scared. He’s huge in comparison to me. But I’ve been through it all, and I’m only twenty-two. I’ve lost a child, a husband, my innocence, and my home. This dude—no matter how big of an asshole he is—won’t deter me from my mission.
“How about fuck you?” I scold. “You’re only two years younger than me, and you act like some big badass. News flash, dickweed, I’m not—” He places a hand over my mouth.
“No. You listen. In the past five years, my mom has been through so much that I’m lucky she’s still alive and kicking. My piece of shit father destroyed her, and though he claims to be a changed man, we all know people relapse and break themselves. Look at my uncle Nate for that matter. He did so well, but one slip up and he’s back to being an addict. You see, Red. You’re not much different. You have this desperate, almost feral gleam in your eyes. That’s a look I want nowhere near my mom. She’s grown, changed, and fuck, she came out strong. One thing could tip her over the edge, and I’ll kill any motherfucker who dares to risk her life again. Whether you’re here for her or some hush money, it’s not happening.”
He stares at me for my reaction, but I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.
“I’ll remove my hand if you don’t scream. If you do, well, I have a knife in my pocket I’m not afraid to acquaint you with.” Raising his calloused palm, I stare at him in incredulity.
How can someone so young be so bitter?
“I’m Toby’s wife,” I mutter, finally letting that information out. Technically, as of two hours ago, I’m his no one, but on paper, he’s definitely still mine.
He doesn’t show his shock, but I’m sure it’s there. His eyes aren’t as narrowed and his anger isn’t as deep. It’s almost lighter. Like he realizes I’m not a threat.
“You’re the Joey?”
“You’ve heard of me?” I mumble, feeling emotions bubble inside me. How would he possibly know? Toby hasn’t kept in contact with Lo or Jase. I’d know. I’ve tried getting him to reach out often enough.
“Uncle Tobes always calls me. We haven’t lost touch. He keeps me sane when my father is around. I’ve nearly killed him several times.”
He jokes about murdering his dad like it’s nothing, but I see the rabid look in his eyes. He’s not even joking right now, and that awareness scares me shitless.
“I had no clue,” I let out. “We got into a fight over your mom, and I wanted to ask her what to do. She’s my idol.” The words slip out, and I nearly regret them before seeing his rapacious smile.
“Toby says you’re a top chef. There’s no one better to admire than my mom. She’s fucking glorious.” The pride in his eyes and voice has me tearing up again.
Fuck.
My heart aches with nostalgia. Would my child have been as loving and fiercely loyal to me as this kid? Would they have loved me endlessly?
This kid has my heart in a vise, and he’s not even mine.
“You’re a great son,” I cry softly, the words as broken as I feel.
“Why are you getting so emotional?” he asks, looking at me like I’m an alien.
“No reason,” I bite out, wiping my already fucked eyes.
“You already look like a goddamn misfit from a Tim Burton movie, might as well just go with it,” he