His eyes narrow and just when I think I’ve got him ... he honks the fucking horn and in an instant, one becomes three.

“We don’t make decisions alone, Raven,” Captain tells me quickly before the other two slide in the back.

“She wants a ride.”

“No,” Maddoc says quick and calm.

“Hell no,” comes from Royce.

“For fuck’s sake.” I shake my head, then spin in my seat. “I get it, you guys need to be the boss. You even think you are the boss, but guess what, fuckers, you’re not my boss. So for you to sit there and think you can bring the hammer down, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not asking ‘cause I have to, I’m asking to make my life easier, so I don’t have to figure out another way, and I’ll admit, hoping it keeps you off my case a bit.”

“You’re not going to meet your mother, Raven.”

Damn it. This isn’t working.

I drag my hands down my face in frustration.

Okay, second approach.

“You seem to want to shadow me, so doesn’t it make more sense for one of you to take me there?”

“She’s got a point.” Royce shrugs.

Maddoc studies me. “Why do you need to see her?”

“To give her back the money I stole from her before I left.” Lie.

“You’re lying,” Maddoc states but I shrug.

“I’ll take her,” Captain offers but of course, Maddoc disagrees and it ends with him as my driver, but oh well. At least I can get her gone.

The longer she’s here, the more trouble she’ll bring.

“How do you know she’ll be there?”

“Common ground. It’s her one consistency.”

“How do you mean?” Maddoc asks.

I take a deep breath. “Well, when she takes off for days at a time and can’t come straight home when she decides she’s ready, she comes to me.”

“Why would she not be able to come home?”

“Usually it’s the person she was with, she doesn’t want them to track her down. Likely she did them dirty or plans to. Or if she gets into trouble and is running from a warrant but wants to avoid jail a few days longer - usually that’s when she’s got clients lined up and wants to go in with money on her books. There are a dozen different scenarios, but my role is always the same.”

He glances my way. “And what role is that?”

“I’m the clean up.”

“You pay her way out.”

I nod. “Pay my way or fight my way, depends on who we’re dealing with. People who know of me want the free fight – more money in their pocket that way – the others want what I won’t give and I’m left to figure it out another way. And if it’s not them demanding, it’s her.”

Maddoc’s grip on the wheel tightens.

“She’s uninventive though, always goes after guys in my schools, so I’m ridiculed and forced to listen to the stories of the tricks up her skirt.” I look out the window. “Seems she is good at what she does, if word of mouth is worth a damn.”

I hate her.

“That why you’d fight at school? To get yourself kicked out when she fucks it up for you?”

“I fight to defend who I am and what I’m not. To show I’m stronger than they believe. I may come from a weak woman, but I will never be one.” I roll my head against the seat, looking to Maddoc.

When he stops at a stoplight I grin and shift the mood back to bearable. “Besides, I didn’t get kicked out of all the schools for fighting.”

He doesn’t let me brush it off though. His hand lifts and I swear my heart stops beating when his fingers slip into my hair, a gentleness I’d have never believed he was capable of. He doesn’t move for me, doesn’t say a word but I can tell he wants to.

For someone who walks around owning the ground, he holds back a lot.

The light turns green, and his focus is forced to the road.

I close my eyes and fight to erase the sense of security swimming inside me. My mother has a nose for good and a knack for spoiling it.

“She’s already here.”

My eyes pop open as we pull in the school parking lot.

She’s laying across the hood of the car with her feet planted on the bumper, knees open and in the air – in a fucking skirt.

She’s alone.

“Any chance you’ll stay in the car?”

“No.”

“Fine but stay back. My mother, my business. If she starts talking crazy just ... ignore her. She’s a bitch. I can handle it.”

He makes no move and first, then with a soft curse he unbuckles and rolls his window down to listen, staying in his seat.

With a tight smile I step from the vehicle and round the hood.

“Mother.”

She blows smoke in the air, not bothering to look at me, not even opening her eyes. “You’re late.”

“No, I’m not, but nice try, I’m not adding in a bogus ass late fee.”

“Put it on the seat.”

My teeth clench and I bend to toss the sandwich bag of cash inside. My muscles lock when I spot the lid to a retractable needle on the floorboard. The methadone clinic by our trailer park started giving those out last year to help keep the parks clean – the needle disappears inside the syringe after use.

My mother’s a snorter, though. Fucking with a needle is a lot messier, not to mention dangerous on a new level.

Maybe it’s the guy who owns the cars method of choice.

“Don’t get in my business, Raven. Go away.”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

This time she sits up, a cigarette hanging from her lips as she slides off the car. She keeps her eyes on me as she makes her way to the driver’s seat. She takes a long hit of her smoke, slowly blowing it out as her eyes float to Maddoc. “Yeah, and you will be too. It’s only a matter of time.”

She hesitates a moment, her eyes still glued on him.

I tighten my fists to keep from raging on her, and shift my body, effectively blocking Maddoc from view.

Her eyes snap to mine, narrowing in the same second. She tries to read me, but she never has been able to understand me. “Raven, don’t be a fool. Don’t fall at their feet.”

“Keep your eyes off him, don’t speak. Go. You’re the one not welcome.”

Her head pulls back slightly, and an unbelieving laugh escapes her.

Silence stretches between us, and anxiousness grows, but then a wide chest hits my back and everything settles.

I hadn’t even heard him step out.

“This is Brayshaw and you don’t belong. Leave.”

“Bravo, Brayshaw,” my mother laughs lightly, and I frown.

She shakes her head, gets in the car and takes off.

Anger swims in my stomach to the point my muscles actually start to ache, and my chest tightens.

With a lick of my lips, I slip back into the SUV.

After a few moments, we’re headed back to yet another home that isn’t mine but holds my things.

One day I’ll understand why I exist in a world I’m not needed in.

One day.

I flip my knife open over and over, every few minutes stopping to read the inscription on the side: family runs deeper than blood.