Page 122 of End It All

I grinned. "You're sweet."

"Keep it up. I'll pull this car over and make you and the bag of bones walk."

The laugh that burst out of me made my sides hurt. Harlow really tried to act all tough, but he wasn't so bad. I was glad he was on my side because he still freaked me out. As we drove, I thought about Quincy. I hoped putting her in a nice place would make up for my semi-impulsive decision.

Now all I had to do was tell him.

“I love you.”

Blake motherfucking Vitale said he loved me! My heart was still firmly lodged between my rib cage, creating an ache on my left side. I was too overwhelmed.

He loves me?

Was he stupid? Maybe Blake had tripped and hit his head on the way out of here. It wasn't impossible, it was slippery as fuck outside. January was a bitch; we had more negative degree weather where it felt like even the blood coursing through my veins froze the moment I stepped out the door.

"Yeah, that's it," I muttered to myself.

Blake had hit his head and was seriously hurt. That's why he said it. I stopped in my tracks and rushed out of the apartment. No socks or shoes. All I put on was a pair of sweats that didnothing to shield me from the biting cold. I made it to the first floor and walked outside, regretting it the moment my toes touched the ice cold pavement. Slush crunched under my heels as I looked up and down the sidewalk. Nothing. No blood, no Blake.

I opened our messages and stared at his name, contemplating how to word my questions. My stomach twisted. I wanted to ask, but I feared the answers at the same time. What if I was right and it wasn't what he meant? The more I thought about it, the more my head hurt. I pressed my fingers to my temple and headed back inside before I caught pneumonia.

Our place was hot as fuck but compared to outside, I was thankful for it. I slouched back down on the sofa staring ahead, unsure what I was supposed to do.

My phone rang and I answered it without looking.

"Blake, what you said?—"

"Mr. Adachi, this is Lenard Hoffmen, from?—"

Agitation at it not being Blake burned the inside of my chest. Why in the fuck wasn't it my husband? I needed to hear his voice more than ever. "I know who you are. Look, I'll move my mom soon. I just need a little more time?—"

"No, that's not why I'm calling." His sullen voice gave me pause, and instantly, I was sitting up straighter.

My gut clenched as an uneasy feeling crept over my shoulders. "What?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but the building is on fire."

Everything around me stopped as the most vile and disgusting feeling crept up. Excitement. I snuffed it out and slapped a hand over my mouth. I avoided the mirror hanging in the living room that Blake had added as decor recently. I couldn't stomach the sight of the smile that I knew was on my face. She was my mom, and yet I couldn't deny the relief at the thought of her death. Just as fast as those emotions came about,guilt and regret came right along with them. I was instantly hit with the fact I'd lost the only other parent I had.

"The firefighters are putting everything out, but I haven't gotten any word that your mother was amongst the people escorted out of the building." He cleared his throat as if he didn't want to say anymore. "The fire started in her unit."

Of course it did.That place was one broken wire or lit cigarette away from going up in flames. As much as I detested my mother at the moment, I loved her all the same. I still craved the motherly love that I knew wasn't there. Some would say I was a sucker. I'd have to agree. I was raised by a woman who never wanted me in the first place, and made sure I knew it.

"Okay," was all I could muster. I know I should have been jumping up with joy at the possibility of her survival and a part of me was. But it was too buried under pain and hurt at the moment. "Thank you for telling me.”

"I’m sorry. I hope she's okay. Maybe she went shopping before the fire started," Lenard said.

That would only make matters worse. She'd need more stuff and another place that I'd have to take care of. The first few weeks of her new environment, I'd be forced to stay by her side. It never failed when all her precious things were gone, she turned to me. And every time, I was there soaking in the facade of parental adoration and love. Whoever said a parent's love was unconditional had never had the pleasure of growing up like me.

I hung the phone up, not willing to talk any longer with him than I needed to.I wish Blake was home. My phone was heavy in my hand as I waited on bated breath. After thirty minutes of sitting there unable to move, I forced myself to get up. I dressed and packed a bag.

I don't want to go. Maybe this time will be different.

Even as I hoped, I knew it was futile.

I’m a shit son.

Bile burned the back of my throat as the guilt continued to build inside of me. I grabbed my phone and dialed the first pawn shop. Five others followed, including a few thrift stores. None of them had seen my mother today.