Page 140 of Marked

“It’s fine, Mom. It actually makes me feel better. That should cover rent and groceries for the month.”

She tucked the envelope back into her pocket. “I think so, too. I’ll deposit it tomorrow morning on the way to work.”

Tossing the last item into my backpack, I zipped it up and slung it onto my shoulders. “I guess I need to head out.” I chewed on my lower lip and averted my gaze. “I can’t tell you where I’m going. JC said it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Mom eyed me, and I could almostfeelher trying to read my thoughts. It was the same look she’d given me when I was a teenager.

“When this is over, I want the whole story,” she finally said. “No sugar-coating. This is very strange. I don’t like it, but even though I haven’t known them long, I trust Nate and JC. I hope that trust isn’t misplaced.”

“It’s not.” I hugged her, then kissed her cheek. I’d have to come up with a better story to tell her once I got back.

We’d gotten as far as the living room when Gael burst out of his room and nearly bowled me over.

“Don’t go,” he muttered, his voice muffled from his mouth pressing into my shoulder.

I tilted his head up, my heart clenching at the tears shimmering in his eyes. “It’ll only be for a week or so, maybe less,” I said. “You’ve got to stay here and keep Mom safe.”

He swiped his hands hard over his eyes and huffed. “I hate crying. Only babies cry.”

“That’s not true,” I countered. “Real men cry. Anyone who tells you men don’t cry is full of horseshit.”

“Cameron,” Mom snapped. “Language.”

I didn’t care about her reprimand because Gael was giggling. He pulled something out of his pocket, then shoved it into my hand. Glancing down, I found a strangely shaped key chain. It had the vague outline of a person, but most of the paint had been rubbed off, leaving nothing a silicone blob. It took a second for me to realize it was Gael’s lucky Mario keychain. He loved those old-school games, and he’d carried the keychain for a few years now. It was his lucky charm and his comfort item.

“I can’t take this,” I said, trying to give the nearly featureless blob of rubber back to him. The little metal chain dangling from the head swung back and forth.

Gael reached forward and wrapped my fingers back around it. “It’s okay. You need it more than me.”

For the second time in five minutes, I fought back tears. Nodding, I pulled him into another hug.

“You be good, okay?” I whispered.

“No promises,” he replied.

We dissolved into fits of laughter, and Mom gave us a bemused expression.

“I’m sorry about all this, Mom,” I said. “I wish you two hadn’t gotten mixed up in it.”

“No apologies, sweetheart. Families go through things, and they are there for each other. No matter what’s going on, we are here for you.”

Letting Gael go, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. “Jesus Christ, Mom. Are you doing all you can to get me to freaking cry?”

“No, dear,” she said, patting my cheek. Then, she gave my ear a playful yet slightly painful pinch. “And don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Ouch,” I hissed, rubbing my ear. “Sorry.”

They followed me out the door, where Nate was leaning against the wall.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“I’ve got what I need,” I said.

“Can we watch you go?” Gael asked, his eyes bright with excitement. “Are you gonna ride Nate’s bike?”

“I think I am,” I said. “Come on down.”

They followed us downstairs and outside, where the sun was already setting. The day felt like both the longest and shortest of my life. The morning chaos seemed to bedaysago, yet it also felt as though I’d been in the car with Ollie only a few hours before. It was a surreal sensation.

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