Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MAYA

I sit at Mom’s bedside, unable to sleep. Mom’s on the respirator, which always makes me feel warbly inside, my hand always ready to lurch at the emergency alarm we have set up. Still, if she were in a home, I wouldn’t need to worry about ambulances, wait times, and agony.

Mom motions gently with her hand, meaning she’s okay.

“Right as rain,” she says, her voice so weak I have to lean in to hear her.

“Mom,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.

She doesn’t hear the pain in my voice as I sit down and gently touch her hand. I think she’s gone to sleep, but then she croaks again. I lean closer, needing to hear even if it hurts me. “Tell me something good.”

I smile. Of course, she’s trying to stay positive, even now. “A man asked me out on a date today.”

“Oh, really?” Mom seems a tiny bit more animated. “That’s amazing news. What’s he like?”

“He was here earlier. Tristan.”

“Tristan? Hmm.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” I tell her. “He’s a good man. He’s helping us, and he’s got a good heart.” I think; I hope. “It’s more than just him helping us.”

“Go … on.”

Her voice sounds even more ghostly and heart-wrenching because of the atmosphere, the night cold with the dark blueness, but the air stale.

“It’s just when he kisses me. I know it’s awkward to say. Or when I kiss him. When we kiss, I should say. It feels like it could be the beginning of something.”

“Then you go, girl,” Mom says, with a hint of her old spark. “You … go.”

She’s falling asleep again, I realize. I wait to check her breathing, knowing I have to call Lacey again tomorrow. She’ll mention a home, too. Would I ever forgive myself if something happened to Mom?

Once she’s sleeping regularly, I go to the kitchen for a drink. I almost scream when I switch on the light, and, like a scene from a freaking horror movie, a man is just standing at the window.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says gruffly. “I saw a light. Isn’t this the front door?”

“It’s the back porch.”

“Oh.”

The window is wide open, meaning he could have gotten in, but I wouldn’t have noticed. It makes my skin crawl.

“What do you want?”

“I’m afraid my cell phone has lost signal, and I need to make a call. I’d never normally be this rude, but I’m in an emergency.”

“No,” I say, my heart thudding so hard I feel dizzy. What is he doing here? Is he with the Mob? “Can you please try another house? It’s very late.”

He runs a hand over his hair. It’s slick and black. “Are you going to let me in, or will I have to kick the door down?”

My blood turns cold, trying to freeze me in place, but I quickly rush to the phone on the wall and dial 911 . “I just have to press one more number,” I tell him.

He grits his teeth. “Don’t be dramatic. We just want you to know. We see you.”

“Just get off my property.”

“We see your sweet momma, too,” the man says.

“Get away !” I yell.

“Keep your voice down,” he grunts, “or this will get worse. Don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I have nothing to do with that cage-fighting crap, okay?” I snap.

“If the Marine’s interested in you, sweetheart, you’re involved now. So you tell him, hello, okay, sweetie? Just tell him we send a kind hello, and we sincerely would like him, you, and that sweet momma to have a happy time together.”

You’re pathetic , I want to hiss, but I can’t afford to be brave or to piss him off. I just need him to go.

“Maybe you ought to be careful, though, sweetie pie,” the man says, making my skin crawl. “You might end up like poor Vanessa if you spend too much time with the Marine.”

“Vanessa?” I spit, despite myself. “What are you talking about?”

“The last time the Marine showed any affection, let’s just say it didn’t end well.” The man laughs coldly. “Go on. Ask him. He doesn’t know we know, but the world’s a small place.”

“You’re wasting your time here,” I say. “You’re in the wrong place. Tristan and me, it’s not what you think.”

This hurts to say on some level, but I need to think about Mom’s safety.

“Vanessa wouldn’t say that.”

He turns and walks away, whistling. It’s like insects are crawling all over my body. After a minute, I leave the phone and look at the porch. The garden’s empty. The man’s ugly words twist through me.

Who is Vanessa?

I’ll have to tell Tristan about this, obviously, but part of me doesn’t want to add the last part, the Vanessa part. I don’t want to make things awkward. Is that just completely ridiculous? We have a date. It’s supposed to be special.

Once I’m sure the man’s gone, I text Tristan. It’s not like he’ll be able to do anything now. If that man wanted to get in here, he’d be here. I keep to the facts, but I don’t mention the Vanessa part. I just say he threatened us.

I think they want you to know they know about me. That’s all.

That’s all , I write, as though none of this is a big deal. Returning to Mom’s room, I try to stay awake. If anybody busts in and tries to hurt her, I need to keep her safe.