Page 135 of The Fix

“Me, too.”

“Okay, okay.” She leans back and swats at my chest. “Let’s get out of this cold.”

We’re two steps away from the car, Lugh shadowing our backs, when her phone rings and she shoots me a knowing look.

“Hello, dear.”

The speaker is tiny, but I can hear every word from Zoey on the other end of the line like a shotgun blast in the dead of night.

“I’m so sorry,” she rushes out on a sob, her voice echoed by a man yelling in the background. “I’m sorry. C-c-can I take that lunch now?”

“Of course.” Ma’s lifted brows swing to me, but I’m already signaling to Lugh to drive us there. “We’re on our way. Get to the street if you can.” She takes on a whole new level of calculated when she instructs the woman over the phone. “Don’t worry about bags or things. Grab Jack and get out.”

When Lugh pulls onto the street, I see Zoey walking along, little JackJack in her grasp.

She’s sobbing when we jolt to a stop at her side, her lip busted and her son barely contained in the thread-bare blanket she wrapped him with.

Ma wastes no time ushering Zoey in and buckling the kid into the seat between them.

“Get us the fuck outta here, Lugh,” Ma demands.

We’re off just as fast as we came, Jack calming with each mile we put between him and his old life, his mother slowly sinking into the seat beside him.

I watch in the rear view as tears track silently down Zoey’s face, and I can’t stop the boiling rage that tangles up my insides.

“Zoey.”

Her gaze is slow to find mine in the little mirror, but when it does, I make sure my face says all the things my words don’t.

“You don’t have to worry about him ever again.”

One single dip of her wobbling chin and I know I made the right decision coming out here today.

She gave me my life back.

It’s my turn to give back hers.

Theirs.

It's never really the end when they live rent free.