Sarah

The silence in this tiny room is slowly killing me. Millie’s chemo is currently pumping into her at a rapid pace and she’s sound asleep. I’ve read every magazine this hospital has to offer, and my phone is now officially dead.

Glancing over at Bosco, I watch him quietly as he sits there, flicking through the TV channels. The story about his brother explains so much about him. Like why he never talks about his family, and why he seemed to understand most of the information the doctor had given us.

“What else don’t I know about you?”

A frown creases Bosco’s forehead as he turns his face toward me. Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Pardon?”

Might as well just go with it. I’m curious. “You told me about your brother earlier, but I really hadn’t realized before then that I don’t know much at all about your past.”

I don’t know what kind of reaction I expected to my question, but the deer in the headlights look he gives me isn’t it. “What?” I tease. “Got a secret baby out there I don’t know about? A wife? A home in Kalamazoo?”

He gapes at me a moment, frozen in place, and then whatever spell he’s under is broken. He chuckles a little and turns off the TV, giving me his undivided attention. “No, nothing like that,” he says. “But there is something you don’t know. Something I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I’ve never told even the guys at the club.”

I wait in silence, the suspense killing me, but part of me is flattered that he’s going to let me in on something so private.

“After my brother died, I kinda went off the rails,” he admits. “Started hanging out with the wrong crowd, dropped out of school, starting smoking weed. I fought a lot, stole shit from my parents. Eventually, I starting using cocaine and ended up doing a stint in juvie for possession. When I got out, my parents were gone. To this day, I still don’t have a fucking clue what happened to them or where they went.”

Jesus. “What did you do?”

He lifts his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “Lived on the streets. Became a beggar. Spent every penny I was given on heroine. I was a junkie. Eventually, one of my friends was raped and killed, and that’s when I realized that shit needed to change and fast, or I was gonna be next.”

“God, Bosco,” I say, my heart aching for him. “I’m so sorry.”

One side of his lips tip up in a half smile. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I got out. I learned, I overcame, and I got clean. Shit was bad for a real long time, but it’s made me who I am today.”

“You still don’t know where your parents are?”

He gives his head a shake. “Nope. I tried looking for them once, but it was clear they didn’t want to be found. I think they probably got a divorce and went their separate ways, started new lives. Spencer was always their favorite, and since I looked just like him, they didn’t need me messing with their plans. I was just a fuck up.”

I frown. “You’re not a fuck up.”

He lifts a finger and grins. “Not anymore.”

As I stare back at him, trying to wrap my mind around the tale he’d just told me, he reaches forward and pats my leg. “What about you? Where are your parents?”

Just thinking of them leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “Not far,” I say with a sigh. “They live here in the city, but when I got pregnant with Millie so young, they decided I didn’t fit their idea of the perfect Christian daughter anymore. They’ve barely spoken to me since.”

Bosco’s lips twist to the side. “I hate to say it, babe, but your parents sound like dicks.”

I smile at that. “They are dicks.”

He glances over at Millie’s sleeping form. “You gonna tell them about Tink?”

I don’t even have to think about the answer to that. “No. All my life, I tried so hard to fit into the picture-perfect family they tried to put out to the public, and I failed at it constantly. If they came around now, Millie would be in that same position with him, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially my little girl.”

“That I can understand.”

I turn and stare over at my daughter. “I don’t get it, ya know? I look at that little girl over there and I can’t imagine never having her in my life. I could never just walk away from her because she wasn’t what I wanted her to be. I just want her to be happy.”

“You’re a good mom,” Bosco says quietly.

I look back at him. “Our parents sucked,” I declare.

He chuckles. “That they did, but we’ll be better parents than them. We’ve both been given the perfect examples of how not to be. All we have to do is the exact opposite of them.”

Bosco

Since Rachel and I started this journey to sobriety together, she hasn’t really said much. She mostly spends her time laying on the bed, her eyes glued to the local news station, her face a mask of disinterest.

When I’d detoxed, I’d thought I was fucking dying. The need and the pain were so strong, I’d have killed just about anyone if it earned me another hit. I’d figured that was the type of shit I’d be dealing with when I brought Rachel here, but she’s barely moved since the first day.

“You hungry?” I ask, noticing that it’s almost seven o’clock and we haven’t had supper yet.

“No.” Her voice is monotone, her gaze never leaving the television.

I sigh. “I was thinking I’d order a pizza. You should eat something. You didn’t have lunch.”

“Pizza’s good.”

I’m pretty sure I could’ve offered her a dog shit sandwich and she would’ve said the same thing. Her behavior both confuses me and frustrates me. After we’d gotten back from meeting Pimp, it’s like she’s just shut down.

I don’t feel like I’m doing enough to help her. At first, I knew she’d been trying to stay clean. Now she’s off the streets, so I know I’m helping her that way, but we’re not connecting at all. She won’t talk to me, she barely eats, and I’m pretty sure if I left altogether, she wouldn’t even notice.

I’m just about to call and order the pizza when Rachel sits up on the bed, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “No,” she whispers.

“What’s the matter?” I move closer to see what she’s watching, and there on the news is a man walking out of the police department.

A quiet, keening wail sounds from her body as her face crumples in defeat. “No!”

“Is that him? Is that the fucker who pumped you full of drugs and sold you on the street? Marco?”

“He wasn’t supposed to get out. The police told me he wasn’t going to be out for a long time.”

Her fear fills the room like a cloud, thick enough to touch. “He can’t get to you anymore, Rachel. You’re safe here.”

“He’ll find me!” she yells. “He’ll find me and he’ll hurt you!”

“He won’t.” I walk over and turn off the TV. “You’re safe, Rachel. You’re safe here, and you’ll be even safer once you’re with Pimp. He’s a pro at dealing with psycho men that like to use women. Is this why you haven’t taken your eyes off the news in days?”

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and nods. “I’ve just had the worst feeling. I knew something bad was going to happen.”

I grit my teeth. “Absolutely nothing bad is going to happen to you. I’ll kill that motherfucker if I see him, and God help him if he ever gets near Pimp and his men.”

Rachel’s shoulders drop and she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s just been so long, ya know? Like, he’s run my entire life for three years. If he finds me, he’s gonna kill me.”

Dropping to the bed, I sit on the edge and ask her the same question I’ve asked her before. “Do you trust me?”

Her watery eyes meet mine, and after a pause, she bites down on her lip and nods.

“Good,” I tell her. “Now let’s order that pizza.”