Page 42 of Trig

“How about for fuck’s sake? You just said it,” Mya asks.

Nine looks at me and then back to Mya and just shakes her head. She turns her attention to both kids.

“All done. Try not to sit on that cheek for a while. Lay on your side or stomach.” She pauses. “Look at me—the both of you. We don’t tell anyone about this. Understand? This is bad. This never happened, nor will it happen again, right?” Both kids nod. “And Mya, no more of that talk. Please.”

“Okay. I gotta get my big feelings out. Last time. Will I be in trouble, Momma?”

Nine rolls her eyes and then waves her hand in the air. Mya stands up in pain and looks at Francisco.

“For fuck’s sake, you jackhole. Next time you shoot toward my cornhole, we are gonna square up, and I’ll take you. I’ll take you down.”

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. Nine covers her face with her hands.

“Now, you coming, Cisco, or nah?”

Cisco?

Mya grabs Cisco’s hand and gangster-walks toward her bedroom with him. I’m in complete shock at the level of dysfunction happening right now.

“Maybe no more internet.”

“Ugh. Yeah. Definitely no more.”

We both exhale and turn to each other.

“Dude. Your son shot our daughter and grazed her ass. He could have killed us.” Nine rubs the back of her neck as she snorts in disbelief.

“I know. It’s my fault. I should have locked up my gun in the vault. I didn’t think he would find it behind the headboard. He must have seen me put it there one night. This could have ended so much worse. I’m sorry. He’s going through things and I should have known better and taken extra precautions.”

She nods as her nerves stabilize. She grabs my hands and squeezes them.

“We should go check on them. They could be planning a heist as we speak,” she says.

We make our way to Mya’s room where the kids are laying on the floor, eating dry cereal and watching cartoons like nothing happened.

“What the fuck?” we mouth to each other.

I thumb toward the opposite direction.

“While they're busy, we should probably put up all the knives, guns, and anything sharp,” I say.

“Chemicals and drugs as well. Ya know, just to be safe,” Nine adds.

We spend hours child-proofing our house more than we have ever proofed it before by hiding or locking anything remotely dangerous away. Even pens and pencils are suspect. Our minds are temporarily fucking with us, but it seems the kids have now joined some weird unity and every time they walk by, there’s a stare-off between them and us, and then a fake smile ensues in sync. It’s fucking weird.

Later that evening at dinner, I watch Francisco stab his fork into his meat several times, probably imagining that it’s me. Every so often he looks up from his plate and glares my way. I take a deep breath, exhale, and then stand up. We can’t go on like this.

“Get up. Let’s go outside, yeah?” I say to him.

We all watch as he stands up at the speed of someone’s ninety-year-old grandma. He stalls by adjusting his clothes. I motion for him to walk in front of me. He trudges forward, head down, dragging his feet. My chest feels heavy for him. How do we get through this? How do we build a bond if he hates me? We make our way outside and then we sit down on a curb. I look over at him. He looks like I did when my mom died, or when my brother died, or when I thought Nine was going to die, and when Mya was taken. Defeated.

“I’m not going to voluntarily talk bad about your mom, but when you have questions, I’m here to answer them. I never knew you existed prior to several weeks ago, and I just want you to know that if I had, I’d like to think I would have taken you at birth and raised you myself. At least I would have wanted to. Your mom…” I stop right there. “I mean, the family that you were around, did what they had to, to survive. They lived a different lifestyle and did things that hurt others in the process, including Nine, Mya, my brother, and me. The things they did won’t make sense to you until you get older, and if you want to know, I’ll explain everything then.”

He scoffs. “What did they do to Nine?”

I don’t think he is ready to hear this but he is asking so I sit there preparing myself to answer, not just for him, but for me as well.

“They stole her… and Mya, and then separated them both. They touched Nine in places she didn’t want them to, and then they beat her and drugged her.”

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