Page 25 of The Other Side of Green

“I don’t have a key.” I couldn’t bring myself to articulate ‘sorry’. I mean this man had moved in with my mom and was doing all sorts with her.

“Remind me to get you one tomorrow.” He stepped back to allow me in, glancing a quick and assessing gaze over me. “You okay?”

“Yep, just fucking brilliant.”

“Hey, watch your tone, your mom is just down the hall.”

“Believe me, she’s heard worse.” I ground my words, letting them eat away at me, shredding my nerves.

“That was then, this is now.”

I stalked for the kitchen counter, smooth and polished fake marble. “Got anything to drink in this house?”

He shook his head, walking toward me slowly. “No.”

“Well, that sucks balls.”

Lufette’s lips twitched.

“So, how did you and her hook up? Aren’t their rules against that?”

Somehow, he kept his gaze neutral and leaned back on the other side of the kitchen counter. “You should probably discuss it with your mom.”

“No. I think I’ll discuss it with you.” I straightened myself up. I was no longer the beat-up kid who ran from this place. I mean fucking hell, two days ago I was part of the lecturing team at Berklee fucking college.

I rolled my head on my neck, popping the tension.

“Where’ve you been, Jack? Judging by that car outside you haven’t done bad for yourself.”

“Cars aren’t everything.”

“True.”

“So come on, tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Mom asked coming down the hallway in her slippers, a robe pulled tight around her middle. “What’s going on?”

“Jack’s a bit angry.” Lufette arched his eyebrows at Mom.

I blew air through my lips. “Yeah, you’d be too if you were me.”

Mom stepped up, placing her hand on my face, cupping it in a way I never thought I’d feel again. It made me sore on the inside, a sting that enjoyably hurt. “Jack, don’t be angry, you’ve spent so much of your life suffering.”

This time the air through my lips exhaled as a full-on snort. “Mom, you don’t know where I’ve been or what I’ve done.”

“And right now, I don’t care.” She glared at me with those fierce green eyes. “I just care you are home. All of it is over, the past is behind us.”

I had to ask; the question couldn’t go unsaid. “He still in jail?”

Mom glanced at Phillipe who nodded. “Made a name for himself on the inside. He won’t be getting out anytime soon.”

My stomach clenched. “That’s one thing.” I pushed a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends. “Why’s there nothing to drink in this damn house?”

Mom stared at me, gaze cool. Her silence told me everything. Alcohol wasn’t allowed in the house, because of what it did, what it made you become.

Hell, I hadn’t allowed alcohol into my body until Lyra appeared and spun everything on its head.

Lyra.