Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Linc opened his mouth to reply, but I held up my hand, halting what I knew was about to come out of his mouth.
“When you were a year and a half, she borrowed money from her mother, and by borrowed, I mean she stole her mother’s jewelry, hocked it at a pawn shop, and then bought coke with the money.”
His mouth snapped shut.
“Twelve years ago, your mother called me to ask me for money so she could pay off her car note. I sent it to her because I felt sorry for her,” I continued. “I followed her, though, because she pocketed the money and was so fucking jittery that I knew that she wasn’t going to put that money on her car note. I watched her walk into a drug dealer’s house, make a deal with him, and then drive off without once even noticing I was watching her. But before she drove away, she shot up in the car.”
He sighed. “What do you want me to tell her?”
“What I want for you to do is to not go there at all. I’d rather you didn’t associate with the woman who’s just going to try to use you to get back at me. I wish you’d use common sense, open your eyes and see that your mother is not the kind of mom you want her to be.”
Linc’s lips thinned.
“She’s not a good person, but all I can do at this point is let you figure that out for yourself,” I grunted as I came to my feet. Everything hurt. Everything always hurt. “When she asks you for the money that she asked me for, just tell her that I didn’t have it. Don’t tell her anymore or any less than that. Also,” I held out my hand. “Give me your wallet.”
His brows rose.
“Trust me. I know your mother,” I told him. “Just give it to me.”
He held out his wallet, which was nearly identical to mine. It even had a chain that hooked it to his pants exactly like mine did.
My kid was my kid, through and through. He wanted to be just like me, and sometimes that was scary shit.
Why he would want to do that was beyond me. I wasn’t a bad person, but I wasn’t the best guy either. I’d done things in my life I wasn’t proud of. Made bad decisions that came back to haunt me later on. And, if I was being honest, I wanted better for my son than I had. I wanted him to go to college. I wanted him to play professional football. I wanted things for him that I never got the chance to even dream of when I was his age.
I took Linc’s wallet and extracted his credit card, debit card and all of the money except for a twenty-dollar bill.
“She tries to make you pay, say that you only have twenty dollars. Pull it out, hand it to her, and put the wallet back into your pocket,” I told him. “Don’t leave it on the table. Don’t fall for the ‘oh, what’s that?’ as she points in the opposite direction so she can check your wallet before she throws it on the floor. Also, as a precaution, give me your keys. You can take my old truck today.”
Linc’s eyes widened.
“But…you never let me drive that!”
That was true.
My truck was old. It was fast. And it was mine.
Linc had his own car, a 2014 Dodge Challenger. I’d begged, cheated, scraped the bottom of my barrel, and cajoled the dealership into selling me that car on my shit credit. And one bank had given me the loan, thank fuck.
It didn’t matter that I had money now. It mattered that, over the last seven years, I’d come to a point where I couldn’t pay my mortgage for four months, six different times. That I was late on credit card bills, and had some that were getting paid off, but were still a long ways away from having a zero balance.
It’d taken me quite some time to realize that credit cards weren’t the answer. Unfortunately for me, that was a little too late to make a difference on my credit score.
“Why?” he asked as I handed him over my keys.
“Because it looks like a piece of shit, even if it isn’t. Your mom would see dollar signs if she saw your car,” I told him. “She doesn’t need to know that it has a few miles on it. She will only see a cash cow, and she’ll try everything to get you to give it to her. When you refuse, she’ll try to steal your keys. And when she can’t do that, she’ll come over at night.” I hesitated. “Probably should start putting it in the garage. Make sure you clean out the clutter this weekend and start doing that.”