The Divorcee Murder Club

Sesenta ~ 60

                  It's ten PM when I exit my mother's house, and I'm so drained from peeling myself open like a banana to Steve that I don't notice the black SUV idling down the street until Kay stands before me. I freeze at the bottom of the steps, my palm gripping the railing.

What the fuck is this man doing at my mom's house?

Steve doesn't notice. He's already behind the wheel to drive me home, and I hope Kay doesn't see him. The last thing I need is for this giant monster to look into who he is.

"What are you doing here?"

"The Sisters need a word," he says. "I've come to fetch you."

"No. I asked what the fuck you are doing here. At my mom's house."

"I'm not here to answer questions." He flashes the gun hidden under his coat on his hip holster. "Now march to the SUV."

"Fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Kay's lip curls with a snarl as he slaps his hand to the back of my neck and shoves me toward the car. The front door of my mom's house flies open, and she races out, a hot pink handgun raised.

"Get away from my son!" She pulls back the hammer with a click, and my stomach plummets.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck!

"Tell her to stand down," Kay hisses.

"I'm warning you," my mom says. "I'm not afraid to go to prison. I will shoot you."

Steve is unbuckling his seat belt, but I do a quick head shake-warning him to stay put. However, he doesn't listen, and things are about to go very sideways.

"Let go of Miguel, and put your hands up," Steve says, his arms propped on the hood of the car, his gun aimed.

Bloody hell. It's like the Wild West out here.

But this doesn't dissuade Kay. Instead, he flashes Steve the gun on his hip. "This is none of your business, old man."

"You better think twice before drawing your weapon," Steve says. "I'm a retired detective. You know what happens when you injure or kill someone in law enforcement?"

"A retired detective? Interesting," Kay grunts, still firmly gripping the back of my neck. He squeezes and whispers, "Tell your precious mommy to go inside, or I will put a hole in her pretty skull and the old man's. You know I will."

Fuck. I hate it here.

"Ma. This isn't a Clint Eastwood movie. Go inside, please."

She shakes her head. "Not until he takes his hands off you."

"Ma!" I close my eyes and plead. "Of all the times to be stubborn, now is not it. Please, do as I say, and go inside."

Kay squeezes the back of my neck again. "Yes, do as your son says."

"Ma. Please..."

Her gaze shifts to Steve, her lips forming a worried line, but then she nods. "Ok." Then she glares at Kay. "I've seen your face. Don't think for one second I won't come after you if you harm my son. I'm old and have nothing to lose."

Kay smirks and tips his head at her before releasing my neck with a shove. He takes a long, hard look at Steve, who still has his gun aimed and arms propped on the car's hood, then nudges me toward the SUV. My feet are reluctant as if they know I don't want to leave the safety of my mom's home. So, Kay grips my upper arm and yanks me along. With each step, I pray my mom doesn't try to have one last word. Lucas steps out of the SUV and holds the door open for me—this asshole.