by Harmony Grey
COPYRIGHT
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Harmony Grey holds exclusive rights to this work.
Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Copyright © 2020 by Harmony Grey
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CHAPTER ONE
OLIVIA
My mom has a bad habit.
And that habit is men.
She’s not all too particular either because these men come in all shapes and sizes, and from all walks of life. My mom’s not too proud to mingle with drug lords or the dogs who roam the streets for them. If they show her some form of attention, then she’s as good as marrying herself off with them that very same day. Well, at least until something better comes along.
My mom clearly doesn’t have a certain type. But one thing I’ve quickly noticed is that each and every one of her past victims have one thing in common… Money, and lots of it. My mom loves nothing more than a man who can provide and then some. Again, that is until she gets bored and starts to hunt around for her next victim.
I’m sure it will come as no surprise to find that my mom has never worked an honest day in her life and her sweet luxuries in life are paid for way in advance.
These men are like my mom’s own personal form of crack and she sure as hell doesn’t waste any time working her way through her stash.
The crazy thing is, I have no idea if her reckless actions are intentional or not, and I know better than to ask her. But whatever her reasons, she smokes them up and bleeds them dry until there’s absolutely nothing left. Then she’s quick to move along, scurrying like a rat, claiming her next victim, ensuring she picks out her prey like the savage vermin she really is. My mom’s desperate and relentless in her pursuit for survival, and she obviously doesn’t give a damn about dragging my sorry ass along for the ride.
“Can’t I just stay here?” I beg, clutching onto the box in my hand as though my life depends on it. “We haven’t even been here long, mom. I’ve only just settled into school.” I plead some more and I’m desperate to tell her that none of this is fair. I want my mom to know that I’ve made friends, actual real-life friends for the first time in my life, but as usual I decide to keep my feelings to myself because the painful fact is, I know she won’t want to hear it.
Eventually, after what feels like a lifetime of awkward silence, my mom slowly turns around to face me. A small smile plays on her lips and her hazel eyes sparkle with her own selfish excitement for her next adventure. An excitement I really struggle to reciprocate.
“There’s a heap of schools all across the state, Livy. Why the hell would you want to settle for one?” I watch on in disbelief as her small eyes widen, as though she expects me to snap out of my funk and suddenly get on board with her crazy ass antics. My mom wants me to be as excited as her and that’s never going to happen. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I’m anything but excited. I have no idea why she can’t see it, but the last thing I want is to keep moving from state to state while my mom tries and fails to find her dream man.
All I want is some kind of stability and a real place to call home. I want to settle somewhere where I can give it my best shot at trying to make something of this messed up life that my mom birthed me into.
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the woman stood before me as my disbelief grows and rushes through my weary body. I know she doesn’t miss it either. She ignores me, surprisingly. My mom’s clearly in some mad hurry to get out of here. So much so that she’s chosen to ignore what she’d usually refer to as my childish behavior, and I really wish I had that kind of privilege too. Holding the power to ignore my mom as and when I pleased would be all kinds of awesome.
I’d no longer have to deal with her bullshit and spontaneous moves for one.
“Because it means I’ll have to start all over again…” my bottom lip quivers, more out of anger and frustration than anything else, and my heavy heart drops a little more when the realization of my mom choosing to always put her own wants and needs first hits me hard in the chest, wounding me for what feels like the millionth time.
I know I shouldn’t be shocked or all too surprised because after all, this is my mom, and this is what she does—all the fucking time.
She’s always been beyond selfish, and I thought that was the norm. I mean I’ve only ever really had my mom in my life. She’s been my one and only role model, and now my eyes have finally been opened to how bad of a role model she’s been over the years. Actually, probably since I was born. I guess I foolishly thought it wouldn’t sting as much with the more time that passed us by, but man, I was so wrong.
Her selfish ways and neglectfulness of me stings just as much as it did the first time I realized what was happening. Ever since this mother of mine tore me away from our family nest, well, I guess it was just a nest as we’ve never really been much of a family. My mom has never treated me like her daughter. It’s almost like we’re supposed to be besties and I’ll forever be her wing-woman. I hate it, and I know it’s only getting worse the older I get.
I don’t know the whole ‘in’s and out’s’ about my father and why he’s never played an active role in my life, but then it doesn’t take a genius to work out that my mom would have played a major role in his lack of show and tell, or actually giving a fuck.
I’ve wanted to find out about my father, the other half of who I am, and as I got older my curiosity grew stronger, creeping in thick and fast, hidden somewhere in the distance before suddenly claiming me whole. I guess it doesn’t matter how much I want to know because it’s been nothing but a pointless effort on my part—a complete waste of air, because no matter what I ask, or how I go about asking it, my mom’s always quick to shoot me down every single time. It’s almost like he never existed, and I was nothing more than the end product of some crazy ass immaculate conception or some shit.
I think I know why my mom refuses point blank to sit down with me to talk about him. Actually, when I stop and think about it, my mom refuses to talk with me about anything other than herself these days. It’s sad but true. Plain and simple conversations with me—her daughter, her own flesh and blood—they just don’t serve a purpose for her and she sure as hell doesn’t stand to benefit from it.
I’m just someone whos’ been by her side, and dragged along for the ride, wherever the hell she decided to go next. My mom has never once stopped and asked me how I fe about any of the bullshit she puts me through.
“You know,” my mom says as she examines me some more, totally unaware of my internal struggles. “I always thought being young was supposed to be all about living your best life and soaking up all those amazing experiences along the way?” She steps closer to me and offers me a small smile, but her eyebrows are still furrowed in confusion. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder who’s supposed to be the parent in this crazy ass relationship of ours.
It doesn’t really matter what my mom has to say though.
I don’t care how my mom tries to glamorize her actions because deep down we both know this move, just the same as the many others that came before this one; it’s all about her. This life and whatever she chooses to do is always about her. And I strongly believe what she meant
to say was that there are plenty more cocks in different states—cocks that my mom is desperate to sample.
Seriously, I know it sounds bad but it’s true. This woman has zero shame.
Arguing with her won’t help. I’ve tried and failed that war many times before, so I reluctantly do as I’m told, just like the good little girl she expects me to be. I don’t say anything further as I pick up the rest of my belongings from the porch and toss them into the back of my mom’s truck—a present from Greg, but knowing my mom as well as I do, she won’t offer it back. She’ll hang onto it for as long as possible, like a trophy of sorts for her time spent with him. Like I said, this woman has zero shame.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered how long my mom’s ecstatic happiness will last for this time. I can’t even guess how long we’ll be staying with this mystery new guy of hers. I think the longest my mom’s been able to hold a relationship down is for about a year. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. It doesn’t matter how much affection and attention these guys show my mom, it’s just never enough to hold her down. Eventually she gets bored and finds a sudden way out, usually into the next guys open and willing arms—pretty much like what she’s doing right now.
I shake my head, desperately trying to shift the unwanted thoughts of the long line of potential suitors my mom has used, abused and tossed to the side along the way before taking one final glance at the small, perfectly kept house which I’ve been forced to call home for the last nine months.
Luckily for me I don’t suffer with attachment issues. Hell, if I did then my mom would have been fucking up my head ever since I was in diapers.
“I really can’t wait for you to meet Dean.” My mom sings down my ear the second she pulls onto the highway. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really think he could be the one, Liv. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Mom…” I narrow my eyes at her as a wave of unease rushes through my body. I mean, if I had a dollar for every time those words left her lips then I’d be able to set myself up for life.
My mom chooses to ignore my evident disapproval and continues with her speech. “I can just feel something here…” I roll my eyes as she clutches her chest, right where her steel heart resides, and a wild look of euphoria sweeps across her face.
It’s pointless arguing with her on this. She’s obviously made her mind up. The same as she’s done in the past and to be honest, I don’t have any energy left in me to pick a fight I know I’ll only end up losing. “Well, I really hope so, mom.” I mutter back and I can’t hide the lack of conviction in my voice. It’s not my intention to rain on my mom’s parade but if she keeps doing this, being so downright reckless and jumping from guy to guy just because she suddenly feels they no longer meet her needs then she’ll end up one lonely ass woman, and even a bunch of cats won’t want to entertain her sorry ass.
Maybe my mom’s got some hidden demons which cause her to act so recklessly? Either way, and whatever her reasons, my mom jumps through men likes no one’s business and I often wonder how that will reflect on me. Are people going to think I’m the same as I get older? Man, I sure hope not.
I wish I knew why she struggles so much when it comes to settling down. It kind of seems to me that the moment things start to become a little serious, she’s out of there, along with a hefty chunk of money in her bank account.
“How did you even meet Dean?” I hate getting involved but it’s a question I’ve wanted to ask her since she dropped this bombshell on me last night. I guess a small part of me likes to hide away from my mom’s dealings. Obviously, what I don’t know can’t hurt me and all that bullshit, but now I’m stuck in my mom’s truck for god only knows how long and I could really do with the distraction from my own thoughts.
“Oh, now that’s a story.” My mom replies and she doesn’t even hastate with her answer. She smiles and takes her eyes off the road for a split second to look at me before diving deep into her memories. “I was meeting a friend up in the Hills.” The Hills? As in Beverly Hills? What the hell was my mom doing there? I know for a fact she doesn’t have any friends, let alone fancy ones who live up in the Hills. “Well, you know how I get. I ended up taking the wrong turn and before I knew what was happening, I was lost. Half an hour past at least and I was starting to get worried. I had no way of finding my way back home, and then boom… as luck would have it, I physically fell into a pair of big, strong, muscular arms and the attraction was instant. It was almost as though he was an angel sent from above to guide me back on the right path.” My mom swoons some more and I can feel the bile beginning to rise up my throat. I just can’t deal right now. “I’m certain it was fate, Livy. I truly believe that Dean and I were destined to meet that day, I just know it. And we’ve been getting to know each other ever since.”
Something about my mom’s little fairy tale doesn’t sit right with me. Something is off. “And how long did you say you two had been getting to know each other?” I ask, eager to know her answer.
“Erm… I didn’t.” My mom snaps her petite head to mine, her cropped black hair blows in the wind as it whips through her open window. “About six months or so,” she adds as a small, carefree laugh escapes her. “Don’t worry,” she assures me, but I feel anything but. These kinds of words falling from my mom’s mouth cause me to feel the total opposite. Everything she says is a big fat lie, so why should now be any different? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I snipe back, unable to keep my black mood under control. The lies now fall freely from my tongue and I don’t even feel bad about it.
“Quit playing around, Olivia. I know when something’s wrong. If you’ve got something you’d like to say, then say it.” My mom’s soft voice would fool anyone in the outside world that she’s the perfect loving and caring mother, but I know the truth. This isn’t my mom being nice or caring or loving. No, to my ears, this is my mom warning me to shut up and put up. She’s warning me not to even think about ruining this move for her.
“I just think it’s a little too soon. I mean you’ve only just broken Greg’s heart, ripped it out and drove off with it for good measure. You didn’t even try to stick around to see if the dust would settle.”
A heavy sigh escapes my mom and I really don’t know whether she’s going to laugh or scream, but the bulging vein in her temple is warning me to stay back and to tread carefully. “Livy, you wouldn’t understand. You’re just a child.” She pauses and I narrow my eyes some more. I guess that’s one of the problems with my mom. She’s too full of herself, too far up her own ass to even try to see anything around her. I bet she doesn’t even realize that I’m almost eighteen, which means I’m most certainly not a silly little child anymore. Maybe she’s truly too blind or foolish to believe that I’ll probably understand more than she’ll ever know, or even give me credit for.
“Do you really think I’d just up and leave? Do you think I’d throw away what me and Greg had if this wasn’t serious?” Yes, yes, and yes. I want to scream it in her face, but somehow, I find the strength to hold back. “Do you really think I’d pack you up and take you to live with someone who I don’t even know?”
Again, yes. I think to myself. I know my opinions are unwarranted and unnecessary in this situation. We both know that’s exactly what my mom would do because that’s what she’s been doing my whole damn life. Ever since I can remember she’s dragged me across the country without giving me so much as a second’s thought—purely to suit her own selfish wants and needs.
“Hang on. Did you day six months?” I ask suddenly as my own head snaps toward hers. Finally, all the pieces of the broken puzzle begin to come together to form a picture—one I’d rather not see. I knew something was off.
“Give or take, yeah.” My mom replies without so much as a care in the world and then her eyes widen, growing with shock as the realization of what I’m getting at starts to sink into her self-obsessed head.
“But weren’t you all loved up with Greg six mont
hs ago? Or at least I’m sure that’s what you were constantly telling anyone who would listen.” I’m quick to remind her and I know my mom doesn’t like being called out on a lie, especially by little old me. One quick look at her and her clenched jaw tells me I’m right once again.
“Oh, come off it. I wouldn’t say we were loved up, Olivia, so quit with the dramatics.” My mom bites out through gritted teeth and I know that I’ve finally rumbled her. Not that it’s any of my business, but it still doesn’t make this situation right. What kind of examples is she trying to set me? Oh, that’s right—none.
“How am I being dramatic? I’m not the one who’s just upped and left a relationship, ready and willing to jump into the next one. Now that’s dramatic.” I know I should keep my mouth shut but it’s so hard not to take the bait when she’s like this. My mother is worse than a rebellious, hormonal teenager and it’s so exhausting.
“Look, maybe I could have handled it better, sure. But why, when I knew it wasn’t going to last? I knew one day we’d end up going our separate ways. What would you have me do?” My mom looks at me expectantly, but I keep my mouth closed, not trusting what could possibly fall out of it. “Would you have preferred I stuck around, purely out of comfort and not love? Do you think I should have stuck it out yet lose more of myself with each day that passed?”
“Mom…” I begin, but she cuts me off with a flick of her wrist.
“I didn’t think so. So, I did what any normal mother and human would do, Livy. I went out of my way to ensure we had plans and a place for the future. I just never expected to feel as strongly as I do about Dean, and the best thing is, he feels exactly the same way.”
“I get it.” I lie some more, hoping to pacify her because I don’t know how long this journey is going to take and the last thing I need is anymore tension simmering between us. “But all I want is a normal life, mom. One where I’m not too scared to make friends just in case you decide to travel to the next state whenever you feel like it.”