Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Science-Fiction,
Fantasy,
Juvenile Fiction,
Fantasy & Magic,
supernatural,
Zombies,
Vampires,
Secret societies,
Teenage boys,
Schools,
High schools,
Good and Evil,
New Orleans (La.),
Horror stories,
Mothers and Sons,
Single-parent families
really appreciate it." He tucked the paper in his back pocket, then allowed the security guard to escort him off campus.
Heartsick over having to face his mother, he made his way back home to their side of the ghetto and dreaded every step that took him closer to his door.
Inside their crappy house, his mother was waiting on him with a stern frown on her face. Dressed in a threadbare pink robe, she looked about as tired and ticked off as he'd ever seen her.
He dropped his backpack to the floor. "You should be asleep, Mom."
Her eyes cut him to the quick and made him feel even lower than Peters had. "How can I sleep when my boy's been thrown out of school for fighting? You of all people know how hard it is for me to keep you there. How much money it takes. What I have to do to pay for your books and lunches. Why would you be so stupid as to throw this chance away? What were you thinking?"
Nick didn't say anything because the truth would kill her and he didn't want her to feel as bad as he did when there was nothing she could do about it.
I'm the man of the family. It was his job to protect her. It was all he knew.
Take care of your mom, boy, or youll answer to me. You lip off to her and Ill cut out your tongue. You make her cry and Ill kill you myself. His father was pretty worthless, but the one thing about him was that he made good on his threats. All of them. And since he'd already killed twelve people, Nick figured he wouldn't think twice about killing him either. Especially since his father had no great love of him.
So he kept his anger locked in and refused to say anything to hurt her feelings.
Unfortunately, his mother gave him no reprieve. "Don't you get sullen on me, boy. I'm sick of that look on your face. Tell me why you attacked that kid. Now."
Nick clenched his teeth tight.
"Answer me, Nick, or so help me, I'll spank you, even at your age."
He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at her ludicrous threat. Even at fourteen, he was more than a head taller than his tiny mother and he had a good forty pounds on her. "He made fun of me."
"And for that you'd jeopardize your entire future? What were you thinking? He laughed at you. So what? Believe me, that's not the worst thing that will ever happen to you. You have to grow up, Nicky, and stop acting like a baby. Just because someone mocks you is no reason to fight. Now is it?"
No. He swallowed attacks against him all the time. What he wouldn't suffer were attacks against his mom. And he shouldn't have to. "I'm sorry."
She held her hand up. "Don't even go there. You're not sorry. I can see it in your eyes. I am so disappointed in you. I thought I'd taught you better, but apparently you're determined to grow up into a no-account criminal just like your daddy, in spite of everything I do to keep you straight. Now go to your room until I calm down. You can stay there for the rest of the day."
"I'm supposed to work this afternoon. Ms. Liza needs me to help move her stock around in the storeroom."
She growled. "Fine. You can go, but then it's straight home. You hear me? I don't want you wasting time with any of those hoodlums you call friends."
"Yes, ma'am." Nick headed to his "room" and pulled the blankets closed. Sick and tired of it all, he sat down on the old, lumpy mattress and leaned his head back against the wall where he saw the pieces of the ceiling that were discolored and peeling up.
And then he heard it. .
The sound of his mother's tears coming through the wall of her bedroom. God, how he hated that sound.
"I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, wishing he'd strangled Stone where the creep stood.
One day ... one day he was going to get out of this hellhole. Even if he had to kill someone to do it.
It was nine o'clock when Nick left Liza's store. He'd already picked up his assignments from Brynna at her huge mansion of a house on his way into work. Then he'd put in five hours so that he could save money for his "college fund." 'Course at the rate