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Craving Resurrection

Page 105

   


As he grew older, the focus changed. It was slow, but eventually I got more comfortable with his physical safety and I’d worried more about his emotional safety. There’s nothing quite like dropping your kindergartener off on the first day and forcing yourself to walk away from them. Was he scared? Was he crying? What if the other kids were mean? Did I put the right t-shirt on him or was that cartoon considered uncool? It didn’t stop; if anything, that feeling of fear grew as he got older.
I couldn’t protect him any more, not physically or emotionally, and now he’d been unbelievably hurt. That realization was like someone cutting out my heart.
“Mum, don’ cry,” Nix said, grabbing my loose shirt in his fingers. “I’m gon be fine.”
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” I replied, pulling a few tissues from his nightstand to wipe my face. “Christ, Nix.”
“Ith Mat here?” he asked, his eyes moving between Patrick and me.
“Yeah, he’s here. He’s probably pissed because I made him wait so Patrick could come back.”
“He’ll get ovah it.” He waved his hand a little in a ‘brush it off’ gesture that reminded me of Peg. “I’m tiad, can you thend him back before ah path out?”
“Sure, son.” I leaned forward to kiss him, but I couldn’t find a single place on his face that wasn’t battered.
“Lipth,” he muttered, pursing his lips.
I gave him a quick peck, then leaned back. “It’s like three in the morning, so I’m going to get a hotel unless you want me to stay?”
“Nah.”
“That’s what I figured. I’ll be back after I get a couple hours of sleep, okay?”
“Love ooh, Mumma.”
“I love you too, baby.”
I left the room before I started crying again. He didn’t need me losing my shit while he laid there in pain, unable to do anything about it. He was so protective of me, probably because it had just been me and him against the world for most of his life —so I knew that he was lying in there worried about me, even though he had to be in excruciating amounts of pain.
Patrick didn’t follow me straight out, but by the time I’d reached the double doors to the waiting room, he’d caught up to me.
“Mat, yer up,” he called out as we reached the group of men standing in the corridor. “Ye stayin’ here de rest of de night?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in his room if they don’t kick me out.”
“Okay, let me or his mum know if ye’ve gotta leave, yeah?”
“Sure.” Mat didn’t wait another second before he was striding quickly down the hallway and out of our sight.
“He say anything?” Grease asked, the veins in his neck becoming more pronounced as I watched. The guy was built like a brick shithouse.
“Got a description on two of ‘em,” Patrick answered, his jaw tightly clenched. “Said he’s seen ‘em around de pub he goes to. Saturday night, should be easy to find ‘em. Nix got one of ‘em good in de face, bet dey all have fucked up knuckles.”
“Cops been in yet?” Dragon asked, and I got a good look at him now that I was a bit calmer.
That’s when I realized who he was—Brenna’s man. That’s why I’d remembered his name. Dang, their daughter was the spitting image of him.
“Haven’t been in yet—don’t matter though—Nix don’t remember what happened.”
I looked at him sharply, and he shook his head once.
“Amy and I are gonna get a hotel, ye boys should do de same.”
“Need to talk, brother,” Dragon said ominously. Damn, if these boys weren’t young enough to be my sons, they’d be scary as hell.
“It’ll wait,” Patrick dismissed him with a glare. “I’ll call ye lads in a few hours.”
His hand rested at the small of my back as he ushered me to the elevator, and I didn’t resist. I just didn’t have it in me.
Once I knew that Phoenix would be okay, my body had started to ache with exhaustion, and my head was pounding from all the tears I’d shed. Now that the nightmares that had plagued me since Nix was a child had been realized, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I was so angry, so unbelievably angry. I wanted to find those men and claw their eyes out. I wanted to parade them through the streets, yelling out their crime for everyone to hear. I wanted them to hurt for their cowardice.
I wanted them to feel the same shame that Nix was feeling for not being able to protect himself.
Those motherfuckers.
“Ye know a hotel around here?” Patrick asked as we stepped outside the front doors.
“Yeah.” My voice was hollow and I could feel the numbness sinking in.
“Hey,” he called, getting my attention. “I’ll grab me bike and follow ye dere. Where ye parked?”
***
He was being a bit presumptuous twenty minutes later when he rented only one room, but I didn’t say a word. I knew it was a bad idea—Patrick and I in one place with a bed involved was always a bad idea—but I didn’t like the idea of being alone, either.
He was the only support system I had, as pathetic as that sounded. I’d never been good at making friends, and most of the people I came into contact with on a daily basis were acquaintances at best. Making connections had never been something I’d learned to do, and after I’d been attacked all those years before, I’d lost the will to even try. I liked my own company. I didn’t need anyone else.