The world was not filled with kindness; it was just a huge knotted string of cruelty.

Chapter Six

Vincent

Ruby was home again.

Her piece of junk car was parked in the front yard next to my brothers’ bikes and trucks.

Sometimes we didn’t see her for months. Other times, it would only be a few days. We weren’t sure where she disappeared to, but we knew it was always to be with some guy she’d met.

She waitressed at a shit ass bar just out of town, so any guy who even glanced her way and was brave enough to put up with her crap for an unspecified period of time, she was happy to go home with.

We never got any warning. One day, she’d be there and the next day, half her clothes would be gone. That woman was the picture of a loving and caring mother.

The last we’d seen her was four months ago, back in August. This wasn’t the longest she’d been gone. Once, when I was about Dylan’s age, she’d left for six months and when she’d come back, she’d been pregnant with Dylan.

Throughout Ryder, Tyson, and my childhood, our mother had been absent. Our gran had taken care of us until she’d died when Dylan had been a year old. Since then—at only sixteen-years-old, Ryder had taken care of us. He had become the father we’d never known, and the protector we’d always needed.

Beside me, Dylan was peering through the windshield with wide eyes. He didn’t seem upset; he kind of just looked hopeful. I knew the look well. I’d been that same kid ten years ago. Back when I’d hoped that I’d have a father again and that my mother would be the way normal mothers were—making dinner, reading bedtime stories, and picking me up from school.

But my childhood had been nothing like that. My mother had had strange men over, disappeared for months at a time, did drugs, and had gotten drunk often.

I learned quickly that hope was for idiots.

Yet, a part of me didn’t want Dylan to be like that. I wanted him to hold onto the things that made him innocent. I wanted him to hold onto his childhood for as long as he could.

“Is that her?” he asked me, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was like he was afraid to talk too loud in fear that she would fade away like a spirit or something.

“Yes, Dil, that’s her.”

I didn’t bother saying anything else as we exited the car and headed towards the front door. Tyson was leaning against the wooden railing on the front porch, looking agitated. He’d probably heard me pull up and decided to let us in on whatever hell was raging inside.

Ryder was home and I knew for a fact that he was probably verbally abusing the crap out of our mother. He’d had a deep hatred for her ever since we were growing up. Maybe because he’d been older and remembered a lot more from when she’d been on her downward spiral, or maybe there was so much anger inside him that the only way he knew to direct it was by hating her.

“Ruby’s home,” Tyson said, as a way of greeting.

None of us actually called our mother “Mom”. That word implied a term of endearment; it implied closeness to a person, and that was something we didn’t have with her. So, to us, she was simply Ruby, the woman who had given birth to us.

“Did you guys pick up anything for dinner?” I asked, ignoring what he’d just said and walking inside.

My way of coping with Ruby’s return was to act like nothing had changed. There was no point in getting angry or upset or reacting at all. There was no point in hoping or being happy, because her return would only be temporary. As soon as she found another guy who’d fuck her and buy her nice things, she’d be out of here without a backward glance.

“Yeah, there’s burgers and fries in the kitchen,” Tyson responded, following us into the house. “Have at it.”

It was eerily silent inside—I’d expected to walk into the middle of a shit storm between Ryder and my mother—but it didn’t take me very long to pick out the one thing that didn’t belong in the picture: Ruby.

She sat on the couch with her face buried in her hands. At the sound of approaching footsteps, her head jerked up and she stared at us with bloodshot eyes before jumping to her feet.

“Vin, Dil, my babies!” She hurried to us with arms outstretched as though she expected us to run to her.

That wasn’t going to happen.

As she reached us, I tried not to notice the minor similarities I bore to this woman, particularly the dark eyes and the deep cheekbones. Really, Tyson was the one that looked most like her. She always said that Ryder and me looked like our father, and that Dylan looked like his.

Years of drug and alcohol abuse made Ruby look a lot older than she really was. She was only forty-one, but she looked more like fifty.

Dylan didn’t make a move towards her, but instead grabbed my hand. I squeezed it in a reassuring way, letting him know that I would handle the situation.

“Aren’t you boys gonna hug your momma?” Ruby asked when neither of us said or did anything.

“Are you our momma again? For how long this time?” I asked in a cool tone. “Well, momma, did you know that last month Dylan turned ten?”

Ruby went pale at my words and her smile faltered. “Of course I knew it was my baby’s birthday, but I was so busy, you know? I really tried to make it, but Mikey was just so—”

I raised a hand to silence her, and she flinched almost as though she was scared of me. “I don’t need to know the name of your fuck buddy. I just need to know how long you plan on staying here.”

There was a thick silence, and then Ruby’s lips began to quiver as she turned on the waterworks. “Goddammit, Vincent! H-he beat me up! He wouldn’t even let me get all my stuff! All I got is that one bag!” She gestured to a single suitcase that was propped against the couch. “I got nowhere to go! I got no money, nothing! Baby, don’t you ever go thinking that I don’t love you! I gave birth to you, honey, and there ain’t no love like a mother’s. I know I’ve done stupid shit, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Any other person would’ve reacted to their crying, broken mother, but I had no reaction. I had seen this act before, many times, and the only thought that crossed my mind was how pathetic this woman was.

“How long are you staying here?” I asked again through clenched teeth. She was really testing my patience. I didn’t have time to stand around and listen to her spout her well-rehearsed bullshit.

The crying stopped just as suddenly as it’d started, and Ruby narrowed her eyes at me. “For as long as I have to.”

“Not if I can help it.” Ryder was in the room, and in a few quick strides, he was standing beside Dylan, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You stay one night, that’s it. I don’t want you poisoning this house for longer than necessary.”

If Ruby had been a little scared by me, it was nothing to how she reacted to Ryder’s presence. She took a step back, her eyes wide as they darted around the room, trying to find a savior.

That was the problem with this woman. She could never pick herself up; she always needed a champion, someone who would take care of her and protect her. She was spineless and weak. She was a leech, a parasite that lived off other people. She repulsed me.

Ruby let out a whimper and walked over to Tyson who had been silent the entire time. “Tyson, sweetie, say something. Tell your brothers that what they’re doing is wrong.” She grasped his arm and stared up at him piteously.

For a fraction of a second, pity clouded Tyson’s face. His brow was furrowed as he stared at Ruby like he felt sorry for her. It was pretty clear that Tyson was the weak link, and Ryder could sniff out weakness in a heartbeat.

“I dare you to say it, Son. I dare you to go against me.” Ryder didn’t exactly raise his voice, but the threat in his tone was clear. If Tyson dared to challenge him, he would ruin him.

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