The Bad Boy of Mine

Chapter 45 ll "Can you do that again?"

Chris' POV

I left the house with Zoey and Emma on their own, probably a bad decision but it's too late to turn back now. I can already feel my senses tingling at their diabolical discussions of ways to wreck the entire house simply because they know that I'll let them do so in a heartbeat.

Hell, it took me so much willpower to not succumb to Emma's watery eyes and not get her those chocolates and not show how happy I was to see Zoey and Emma interact like they've not just known each other for a few months, but a few years in fact.

Asking Seth to take Emma away from my mother all of a sudden is . . .

Not exactly the best idea?

Things can basically spiral out of control - things might happen - collateral damage will be induced - detrimental impacts - all those kind of stuff.

It basically sucks.

But it's the only healthy option I can think of, so.

Not that healthy after all, considering Zoey and Emma are shoving boxes after boxes of chocolates into their systems.

And my ears are ringing and the dull, persistent ache in my head that has been there since just now hasn't go away either. It's not going to go away any sooner too, I think.

Things are going to get complicated and I'm not going to like it.

-

After a few more minutes worth of drive, I got out of the car and standing right in front of me is the building that I've been dreading to visit, for like what, months? Years?

Okay, I get it, I might seem cruel, selfish, impudent, whatever, but I swear to bloody god that I'm not one of those immature teenagers that hates their parents and moves out because of some stupid reason.

I do have a reason but it's not a stupid one.

I enter the building to get into the apartment. I'm a coward to be very honest, when I need Emma to stay over at mine, I just can't find the courage to come over and pick her up myself. Most of the time, Seth would do the job for me. I think he gets it, he gets that I don't have the balls to do so, so he doesn't say anything when I call him in the middle of my drive here, to realise that I just don't want to face her just yet.

All it took was a light tap on before heavy but unsteady footsteps came barrelling from the other side of the door.

She flungs the door open and oh -

Oh.

Okay.

Why am I shocked.

I guess it just finally hits me that - right, Chris, you haven't seen your mom for a year or two already.

Grey hairs are peeking out at the sides of her midnight black hair, her eyes are tired but there's confusion, annoyance and shock in them. Faint wrinkles crowd around the corner of her eye when she blinks up at me.

"Hi mom."

"Fucking christ."

"Oh."

"Where is she?"

"At my place."

She snarls with animosity that I didn't know her frail body seems to be capable of. Then she grunts and slams the door wide open. She walks off and I take that as my cue to follow her in.

The place is well kept and - to be honest, I don't know what to expect out of this visit.

"When will she be back?"