Kansas (Ruthless Kings MC Atlantic City #2) - K.L. Savage Page 0,7
heart at this moment turns to steel. I only let a few more tears fall before I decide that man has never been worth a single breath I’ve ever wasted on him. My instincts told me he was a fucking dirtbag. I hated him for a reason. I wasn’t crazy. Something wasn’t wrong with me.
I knew.
When we pull up to the house, I can’t help but laugh. The driveway is cracked, the grass is overgrown, the garage door doesn’t work, and there is a leak in the roof.
Yet he has a white picket fence in Kansas.
“Rotten bastard,” I spit, opening the passenger side door, then slamming it shut.
Nigel does the same, following close behind me. I unlock the front door, and we enter the house. The keys jingle as he tosses them on the counter.
“Amos?” my mom shouts to make sure it’s me.
“It’s me, Mom. Go back to sleep. I love you.” I lock the door behind me, and an idea strikes. “I’m changing the locks this weekend. I won’t be playing baseball either, because I’ll need to get a job. My Mom will need me. Things are going to change around here.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do,” Nigel says.
“I just want you to stop me from killing him when he comes home Sunday.”
“I can do that.”
I’m not going to tell him he is wrong. I don’t think anyone is going to be able to stop me.
It’s Sunday, and I haven’t slept a wink. All of Pop’s shit is packed and on the lawn. I’m taping up the last box when my Mom finally enters the room. It isn’t often she’s up and walking around, but when she is, I always see the side of her I miss.
She gasps. “What are you doing?”
My eyes slide over to Nigel, who did his best to stay awake but passed out about two hours ago. I’m not going to wake him. “Packing up his shit.” I tear the tape from the roll and close the box. “Mom—” I stand up, then grab a bin I set aside of all his fucking secrets he dared to keep here in this house.
“Nigel and I followed him Friday. He went to Kansas. He has a whole new family. Did you know that? Another woman, kids, the works. That’s where he goes on the weekend.” I pick up a photo from the bin. “This is of his daughter.” I place the baby picture in her hand. “This is of his son, who plays basketball, by the way. Look at the trophy. Oh, let’s not forget this gem.” I hand her the wedding photo of him and that other woman. “His wife. He kept this here! Right here. We deserve more than him,” I say to her, trying not to cry again when I see her silently sob as she looks at the pictures.
“I knew there was someone else. I assumed, but… What are we going to do, Amos?” she wails, which wakes Nigel up from his sleep.
I catch her in my arms when her knees give out. She clutches onto my shirt and cries like I cried to Nigel.
“Mom? Look at me. I need you to look and listen.” I push her away and cup her face. “I am going to take care of this. We only need each other. I want you to go in there and take your sleeping pill. I want you to go back to bed. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come back.”
“I can’t. You can’t handle this alone, Amos.”
“I have Nigel. You’ve been through enough with him. I need to know you’re on my side, Mom.”
She nods, staring at the wedding photo of Pops and his ‘wife’.
“You’re prettier,” I say, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
She places the photo in the bin and tugs the belt of her robe tighter. “I’m not going to bed. I’m going to look good when he comes home, and we can tell him to fuck off together.”
I smile, surprised by her words. “You better hurry, then. He will be home soon.”
“Right. Okay.” She sniffles and spins around, the ends of her robe fanning out. She hurries across the hall into her room and closes the door.
An hour later when she comes out, she’s not the same woman. She’s wearing a dress. Her brown hair is combed and parted, shining like silk. She has makeup on, and her blue eyes are brighter than ever.
“Damn, Mrs. Taylor. You look hot,” Nigel whistles.