Page 44 of Extraction Play

“I’m a shit daughter,” Pixie said and swigged some of her drink. “I can’t even be in the same bar with my mother.”

Eva snorted. “That’s all it takes to be a shit daughter? Then count me in the mix too.”

Pixie shot her a look. “Yeah, but your mother actively cut you out.”

“Guess what.” Eva took a sip of the mocha. Heat and a mix of sweet and sharp notes burst onto her tongue. “I hated being in a room with her before that too.” It was clear Pixie wrestled with something big, and Eva refused to feed the guilt beast.

“She’s so sweet now,” Pixie said, staring at the sidewalk as she clutched her drink tight. She swigged even more down, until it was mostly drained. Once they passed a trash can, she lobbed it in. “And the past was never her fault, really.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt,” Eva said softly, sensing what brewed was a storm Pixie needed to unleash. She took Pixie’s hand, interlaced their fingers, and squeezed tight.

Pixie stumbled, and when she looked up, her blue eyes shone with tears. “She didn’t start getting help until I was around high school age, almost ready to head off to college. It was me and her, and…fuck, I was just a kid.”

Goddamn.

Something about Pixie screamed isolated, like she’d been on her own for far longer than she should have.Just a kid…fending for herself. Goddamn. Eva’s heart ached, like a bruise throbbed deep in her chest.

Her parents might’ve been shit, but at least they’d offered her and Micah stability growing up.

Eva tugged Pixie with her so she could lean against the wall of a boutique that was already closed. She placed her drink on the ledge and dragged Pixie into her arms. Eva hugged her tight as if she could squeeze away the pain. The breath snagged in her throat. Had she overstepped? No, the first sob Pixie gasped out told her she’d made the right move. Pixie’s whole body was shaking like a leaf in a storm, but Eva was determined to keep her rooted in place.

“Alcoholic?” Eva asked.

“Schizoaffective disorder,” Pixie said softly. Wetness imprinted on Eva’s blouse where Pixie buried her face into it, but Eva didn’t give a damn. Pixie clearly needed to let all this out. Her mind reeled with all the possible things Pixie could’ve experienced, each more terrible than the next. Her gut clenched.

“That’s rough.” She braced more of her weight against the wall to support them both. “So I can imagine your relationship with her iscomplicated now.”

Rough felt like a paltry response. What could she say though? Sorry no one took care of you as a kid? Sorry life let a fucking child down? Shit. Where the fuck had the rest of Pixie’s family been? Pixie’s shoulders shook, and she sagged against Eva.

“Yeah, definitely complicated,” Pixie said, her voice wavering. She pulled away from Eva, the tear tracks smeared across her cheeks, her eyes glistening. The sight punched Eva in the chest. The urge to soothe her pain reared up in a big way, but these weren’t tangible things to fight—no, this was the past trying to drag her under.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry for unloading on you.” Pixie’s breaths were shaky, and she trembled, but she refused to look at Eva.

“None of that,” Eva said, turning on her Domme voice. “I wanted to know what was going on, dove. You were clearly in distress at the bar, and now I understand why.” She placed her free hand on the small of Pixie’s back and guided her forward. “Let’s return to your place so we can talk more comfortable.”

“Or so you can change your clothes,” Pixie muttered, even though she moved alongside Eva with her usual grace. “I’m so sorry for crying all over you.” Even though the initial stream of tears had calmed down, they still trickled slowly. Eva ached to wrap Pixie in her arms, to shield her from the world until all the pain, all the hurt subsided.

“If you apologize one more time, that’s going to turn into punishments,” Eva said. Shit, what possessed her to say that? Pixie didn’t belong to her. She and Pixie had only hooked up twice, and one was a scene with others, yet some instinct told her this was the key to unlocking the woman. Pixie’s eyes widened as her gaze met Eva’s. She chewed on her lip and nodded. “Now, I’m not going to push,” Eva said. “But if you want to talk more, I would like to listen.”

Pixie swallowed hard, and she wrung her hands. “One time…we’d been living on her friend’s couch for a few weeks. My mother’s always been good at making friends. It was keeping them that was the problem when she went into episodes. So the process would start the same, over and over again.”

Eva kept her hand on Pixie’s lower back. Unease churned in her gut at the direction of the story, somehow sensing it couldn’t have been good. Living on a couch—what sort of existence had Pixie lived? They continued their amble through the streets as if the sheer act of walking allowed Pixie’s words to drift past them like tumbling leaves in autumn. She’d left her coffee behind, but that didn’t matter. Only Pixie did.

“Anyway, I’d come home from school. Was trying to get my homework done and figure out dinner. My mother had been fired from her job that day, and she was slumped on the couch. Wouldn’t move, but I knew the drill when she got that way—I needed to take care of us. Except midway through my attempt at dinner, she burst into the kitchen in a cold frenzy. Was sure, absolutely sure someone was watching us from the cupboards.”

Dread coiled in Eva’s stomach. Oh no.

“Maisie went berserk. Just ripped the cabinets open and started yanking out mugs. They shattered on the floor, one after another. I still have a scar from one of the shards that dug in too deep. I barely had time to turn off the burners before I bolted, trying to find somewhere to hide.”

“Shit.” How could anyone survive that experience as a kid? Fuck. Pixie must’ve been so damn scared.

Pixie shrugged, a resigned sadness in her eyes that broke Eva’s heart. “It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Her friend kicked us out the second she got home.”

“Why the fuck was no one calling child services?” Eva asked, her tone coming out a little too sharp. None of that was okay. None of it.

“We weren’t anywhere long enough for folks to bother. My extended family washed their hands of us ages ago.”

Bile rose in Eva’s throat. A fucking child shouldn’t have gone through this. All the adults in her life had left her on her own, and that made her rage. She sucked in a long, shaky breath. Pixie didn’t need to take care of her feelings on the matter on top of her own. Eva was here as a sounding board, a safe place, and she’d swallow the anger bubbling inside her to keep it that way.

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