Sinners' Playground (The Harlequin Crew #1) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,141

door, banging my fist on it. There was loud music sounding from inside and smoke seeping out of the nearest window, the scent of pot sailing under my nose. It reminded me of my childhood. Which was kinda sad really when I thought about it. But the smell was weirdly comforting.

The door opened and Mom stood there in a too-tight blue boob tube and tiny black hot pants. She was as skinny as a rake and barely came up to my chest. Her dark hair fell around her and a joint was smoking between her fingers. She may have been getting older, but she was still beautiful as hell. And a fierce protectiveness gripped my heart as I looked at her.

I’d always wanted to shield her from her shitty life choices, but somehow I’d ended up following in them too. And as much as I understood it more now that I lived it myself, I would join Satan in hell itself before I let her go back to that life. She hadn’t been the best mother admittedly, but I still loved her. Even if she was a queen bitch sometimes.

“Johnny James!” She hugged me tight and I had to bend forward to properly embrace her. She was always doing overly touchy huggy things these days, like she was trying to make up for all the hug time we’d missed when I was a kid. When I was seven, I could clearly remember asking Mom if hugging naked made it better, because she was always doing it with all her guy friends who came to visit. I’d taken off all my clothes, opened my arms wide and she’d started crying into her cornflakes. Hindsight really was a dipshit sometimes.

“Hey Mom.” I let her go and grabbed hold of Rogue, yanking her against my hip. “Remember Rogue?”

Mom did a theatrical gasp then lunged at Rogue, dragging her in for her own hug.

“Oh hey, Mrs B, how are you?” Rogue squeezed her back and Mom leaned away, gripping her arms as she looked her up and down.

“Love the hair. Where’d you get to all these years? My Johnny hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“Well that’s not exactly true,” I ground out, my neck heating at her words.

“It is true!” Mom insisted, towing Rogue inside by the hand and she shot me an amused look over her shoulder. Goddammit.

“So are you and my boy together?” Mom asked hopefully.

“Ha, no way,” Rogue answered and I glowered at the back of her head. I’ll get you back for that, pretty girl.

I headed inside, kicking the door shut and following them through the hallway which was full of potted plants and into the lounge which was teeming with even more potted plants. It was Mom’s new favourite hobby. And to be honest, so long as she wasn’t sucking dick for cash, she could grow a jungle in here for all I cared.

My jaw ticked as my gaze fell on the sweaty old man currently taking up residence on my mom’s couch. I folded my arms, stopping dead in my tracks as fury started coursing through me.

“Who’s this?” I boomed at Mom and the guy took a joint from his mouth, his throat bobbing. He was all moustache, I swear to fuck. It was the biggest ass tash I’d ever seen. His head was lacking in the hair department though so maybe he was making up for what he was missing on top. And maybe I didn’t give a fuck, so long as he took his moustache out of my momma’s house.

“That’s just Greg.” Mom rolled her eyes at me, encouraging Rogue to sit in an armchair and offering her the joint.

I snatched it from Mom’s hand before Rogue got any ideas about getting high with her and Greg’s moustache. The cherry burned my palm as I squeezed it up in my fist and tossed it in the vague direction of an ash tray.

“Who the fuck is ‘just Greg’?” I growled.

“Oh JJ, you’re such a buzz kill. We’re just friends, aren’t we Greg?” Mom dropped down beside him, crossing her bronzed legs and Greg sat up straighter, having the courtesy to at least look rattled. He knew who I was. I could see it in his beady little eyes. And in his moustache. I could see it there too.

“If you want friends, you can have girl friends,” I clipped.

“Johnny James, do not take that tone with me,” Mom growled and Rogue looked between us awkwardly.

“I’m gonna make some coffee.”