Page 30 of Ink's Devil

“Working? Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah, I work.”

“Connor,” I tug at his arm, moving him away from Mom. “You could stay at a hotel…”

“Why the fuckin’ hell should I?” He rounds on me now. “Mom’s got a perfectly good room sitting empty.” He brushes back some hair that’s flopped down over his face. “There’s even some of my old shit left in it. I’m asking for a night or so a week. I’ll even pay a bit of rent.”

I look from one to the other. To be honest, I’m not certain why Mom’s so against Connor staying here. I thought she might be pleased to help out. When he first mentioned it, she did seem okay with the idea, it was only after our father’s name came up, she changed her mind.

“I don’t trust your father,” she shouts at Connor. “And by association, I don’t trust you. I’m not giving you a key so you can come and go at all hours and bring God knows who into my home.”

“I won’t bring anyone else here.” Connor tries once more, but he’s inherited my mom’s Irish temper, and there’s no stopping either of them now. “Jeez. Isn’t there a fucking way of making you see sense, woman?” Connor yells. “Beth’s okay with it.”

“Beth doesn’t own the house,” I mumble.

“Why’s this so important to you, Connor? What’s your dad got you doing now?”

He throws up his hands. “Shouldn’t have mentioned his name. You always were irrational about him. He’s got nothing to do with this. Look, it’s just me. Your son. I need a place to stay. You good with that now?” For some reason, he’s starting to look desperate.

When Mom turns her back, he reaches out his hand, roughly turning her around to face him. “Don’t you walk away from me, woman!”

I hate confrontations—particularly between those I love. I don’t know what to do to stop them, and for the first time in my life, worry this is going to turn physical. Connor’s as tall as I am, but compared to us, my mom is tiny, albeit she’s the average woman’s size. I’ve never seen Connor so angry and can’t understand why. On her part, any mention of my father, and my mom sees red. I’m not sure either of them is capable of calming down and being reasonable at this point.

Now Connor’s put his hands on my mom, I worry she’ll slap his face, and don’t quite trust him not to retaliate. The boy I grew up with wouldn’t have, but who knows what he’ll do now living as he does under the influence of my dad?

As I’m trying to summon up words to make peace between them, my brain registers a loud rumbling roar.Ink.Oh, not now. I don’t want him walking in on this. What a great introduction to my family that would make.

I ease myself out of the room and walk swiftly to the door. I open it, then, when he walks up, step out. “Er…” I was going to make an excuse why he can’t come inside, but he physically moves me out of the way as, from behind me, I hear the loud slap that I feared.

Then it’s Ink’s voice that reaches me, and I run quickly after him to see one of my brother’s arms twisted behind his back, and the other, still raised in the air, held in the other of Ink’s meaty paws.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are, but you do not hit a defenceless woman.”

“She hit me first,” my brother whines, trying ineffectually to free himself from Ink’s grasp. “And who the fuck do you think you are, coming into my house and attacking me?”

“I’m not fuckin’ attackin’ you, asshole,” Ink observes. “You okay?” This thrown toward my mom.

Mom’s eyes are wide open, flicking between her son and the man who’s got him restrained. “I’m fine. But this ismyhouse, and my son’s not welcome here. I would appreciate you taking the trash to the door.”

“Trash? Fucking trash now am I,Mother?”

“You are in this mood.” Mom thinks for a moment, then offers, “You can stay, but you come in at a reasonable time. I am not giving you a key…”

Connor growls and throws her olive branch back in her face. “I’m not a fuckin’ kid,Mother. I’m allowed to stay out late. This is past ridiculous, I give up.” He starts to walk out, then turns back. “There’s some shit I left upstairs I might as well now take. It’s clearly not my fucking room any longer.”

Shit? Last time I looked there was a closet full of clothes more suited to a teenager, schoolbooks he’d have no use for, and old computer games.

“Take what you want,” Mom says, tiredly.

“You heard your mother. Get what you need and get out.” Ink lets Connor go, then stands with his arms folded across his chest.

A strange look comes over Connor’s face. “I’ll just go get a box, I’ve got one in the car.”

“I’ve got…” But Mom’s offer goes unheard as Connor has already stepped out.

Ink raises an eyebrow at my mother. “You okay with him getting his stuff? Trust him not to rob you of the family silver?”

Mom gives a small smile. “After raising two giants, there’s not much of that left. But yes, if there was anything to steal I trust him that far, and there’s not much in his room, anyway. Just some old computer games, and an out-of-date Xbox, not much more than that.”

---