Page 39 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

She sniffled in response, and he wondered how much more he could hate himself.

“One, I need you to tell me about the woman in the rehab center, the one who told you she could ‘fix’ Cowboy. What was her function there? Was she an addict as well?”

Reba shook her head. “No—but all the people who worked at the center knew her. Some didn’t like her, but she had sort of… you know. A pass. The lady who ran the center, Cora, hated her, but it was like Retty had something on her. You could tell. Cora would scowl and look like she swallowed a bug whenever Retty was walking the halls.”

Jackson nodded. Blackmail or threats—something had forced the rehab’s director to violate confidentiality and allow an interloper.

“Sacramento Recovery?” Jackson asked. It was a few buses from this apartment complex, but he figured Reba must have worked nearby.

“I’ve got a job waitressing down the block from there,” she confirmed. Her face screwed up in pain. “It’s been hard to go,” she admitted, “without Cowboy to come home to.”

Jackson let out a breath. “Reba, you need to be not a mess to take care of him. You understand that, right? Giving him away to the Moms for Clean Living people—that wasn’t something you should do if you weren’t using, do you understand?”

“But he’s… he’s gay, and how am I supposed to deal with that?” she asked, and he heard the genuine question in her voice.

“Look,” he said, taking a breath. “My mother was a junkie and a whore, and yeah, she sold me to a john once for drugs, and I almost went to juvie for a year when I clocked the guy in the throat defending my virtue. But you know what she never, ever fucking did?”

“What?” Reba asked, voice shaking along with her hands. Jackson bet she was dying for a smoke right now, but she seemed to be glued to the crack between the door and the doorframe the same way he was.

“She didn’t give adamnwho I kissed,” he said. “And she didn’t judge. Now if the sex work keeps you in your apartment, that’s something you can make your peace with, but I think you and I both know your waitressing money will go a lot farther if you’re not spending it on junk, amirite?”

She nodded. “Cigarettes are almost more expensive than meth,” she whispered.

“Right? So priorities. So if you want to see your son again, you get yourself straight. And if the Moms for Clean Living come by, you never fucking saw me.”

She nodded and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Was that the other thing you wanted from me? Before you leave me alone? Because I sure could use to be left alone.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said, swallowing hard. “I’ll be back in a month. If you’ve got your shit sorted, and you think you can not be shitty to your kid, maybe you could see him again for a little bit. But in the meantime, don’t fight where he is right now. He’s got people right now who will take care of him. I can make sure your kid lands soft. But you—you’ve got to not fuck with his head. No coming back and telling him that all is forgiven if only he’s straight again. None of that shit. Let him be a kid. Let him have some safety and some steady food. Take care of yourself, and remember how to be a mom.” His voice, which had assumed the hard edge of somebody reprimanding a teenager, softened. “He’s a great kid no matter who he kisses. If you can’t see that, you need to leave him alone.”

She swallowed and nodded. “You’ll be back in a month?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“If I’m not here, don’t look,” she said, and his heart fell. “But I’ll try to be here. I’ll try to be better.”

Jackson nodded, thinking that was about as good as he was going to get, and he reached into his wallet and pulled outanother card. “This is for Marconi rehab. It’s a lot closer. It might be easier if you’ve got someplace for meetings that’s only a couple blocks over, and this way you won’t see Retty again.”

She snatched the card from him with nicotine-yellowed fingertips. “Yes,” she said, sounding almost greedy. “Yes. Someplace else. Someplace they tell me how to love my boy.”

“You just love him,” Jackson said, feeling overwhelmed. “You just… just fix yourself and love them.”

“But nobody shows you how,” Reba Milton said. “Nobody.”

She shut the door then, slowly, like she’d lost all the energy to do anything else, and Jackson closed his eyes for a moment, grateful for the fresh air once the apartment was closed up. He walked away, reluctantly at first, and then with increasing resolve.

He’d done what he could. He’d be back in a month—he’d promised. And in the meantime, he and his friends would keep her son safe.

And someday, Jackson thought, he’d have a talk with Cowboy about how sometimes it wasn’t that the person who let you down was bad. Humans didn’t always have the strength to win with the hand they’d been given. Not all love was perfect love. And sometimes wanting to be better wasn’t enough.

When he got to the car, he wanted to talk to Ellery so badly his hands almost shook with it. But he had to head to the hospital to see Henry, and then go to Richards Boulevard to get backup, and then he really did have one hell of a day planned out.

But he missed Ellery, and what was all that “internal work” for if he couldn’t reach out to the man who was probably fretting over Jackson’s well-being during this entire anxiety-filled day.

He sent the text and smiled a little when Ellery hit the little heart key on it, and then plugged his phone into the charger on Jennifer’s dash. There was no Henry here, he thought dismally.He had to keep his phone charged and his contacts live and his whereabouts known, because Henry wasn’t there to have his back, and the rest of the world was worried about Henry and didn’t have the wherewithal to fuss over Jackson’s worthless scrawny ass in the meantime.

Being a grown-up meant taking care of his own damned business, but it was always a lot more fun when he and Henry were nagging each other to do it.

With a choice swear word, he started Jennifer and drove.

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