Page 89 of Crybaby

I open the door and shut it softly, but when I hear the passenger door mimic the same action, I glare at Darcie over the roof of the truck.

“What part of stay here didn’t you understand?”

“All of it,” she spits, the bag of kittens in hand. “I’m not some airhead you can bark orders at.”

“I wouldn’t need to be barking orders if you didn’t lose your shit over kittens. We’re here because you can’t do what you’re told.”

“Fuck you, Rev.”

Seems she still hates me.

Knowing this is an argument not worth having, I walk past her and down the alleyway which runs behind the houses I know so well. Darcie’s muted footsteps reveal she’s following.

I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand because this is my playground. But I don’t have time to play. Jumping onto the lid of a silver trash can, I jump over Mrs. Santina’s fence and pat her rottweiler, Boris, on the head as I pass his kennel.

He doesn’t even raise his head. He’s seen it all before.

I continue jumping fences into backyards and kudos to Darcie, she keeps up. About six streets down, I crouch low and peer through the steel links of Mr. Morrison’s fence to across the street to where Nonna’s house is.

This was the long way to get here, but it’s the safest because no one would be looking in that direction for me. But in this street, I have to be careful.

When the coast is clear, I dip my chin and blend into the shadows as I cross the street and walk into Nonna’s backyard. Lifting the gnome with the red hat, I dig in the dirt with my fingers and find her spare key.

If I can avoid seeing her, I’ll be happy because when my mom decided to step up to the plate and finally be a parent, she divulged Nonna knew who my father was this entire time. I’m fucking angry with the world.

Carefully climbing her back steps, I unlock the door, and the moment I enter the kitchen, I’m instantly hit with the smell of lasagna. I’ve had many meals in this small kitchen, but now, I can only think about the lies these walls house.

I need to bounce before I lose my shit.

I avoid the loose floorboards I’ve memorized by heart and carefully open the door under the stairs. This is where Nonna keeps her Christmas decorations as well as old clothes she doesn’t want to throw away.

This is also where I’ve hidden fifty thousand dollars—give or take. I also have stashed away jewelry and weapons, all for a rainy day.

Dropping to a squat, I run my fingers over the wooden floorboards and when I feel the familiar groove in one, I pry it open. I do the same to two others.

Reaching inside, I begin pulling out zip lock bags filled with cash. Like Darcie and her kittens, I know how many there are, but I don’t plan on taking them all. Regardless of what Nonna did, I would never leave her dry as I know she will be the only one to look after June when I’m gone.

I snatch a floral pillowcase from the shelf to the left and begin stuffing it with the bags of cash. I search further into the floor, and when I feel the duffel bag, I yank it out. It’s covered in cobwebs and a dark red stain which is blood.

Once I have everything, I replace the flooring and stand.

Turning, I see Darcie watching me from the doorway, eyes wide. I know she’s wondering who the fuck she got into bed with. I’m not a good guy, and she now sees that.

I fucked older women to get what I wanted.

I lied to good, honest people to get what I wanted.

And I don’t feel a shred of guilt for it.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world and if Darcie wants to judge me, then she should see it all.

“Were you going to say goodbye?” Nonna’s voice sounds behind Darcie, who spins, stunned.

“You’re robbing an innocent, old lady?” she asks, horrified.

“Trust me, she is anything but innocent.Ciao, Nonna.”

Darcie steps aside, looking back and forth between us, confused. But there is no confusion between Nonna and me—she knows I feel beyond betrayed for her lies.

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