All That Matters (2 page)

His attention was diverted by the boys coming down the stairs. They moved slowly, eyes down and body language hostile. They knew that they were in shit deeper than just breaking his window. “Here.” The taller of the two, maybe he was Joshua, held out a wooden box to Maggie... no wait, her name was Meg. She took it, and her lips pressed together in a firm line when she opened it up. “There was more, but Dad needed...”

“What did I tell you about...” she trailed off, obviously remembering that there was a stranger standing with them. “Go upstairs to your room. I'll deal with the two of you in a minute.”

Train could see the box from where he was standing. If there was fifty dollars in there, he'd be surprised. “Problem?” he asked.

“Yeah. Look, this is less than it should be. I'm sorry for that. For all of this, really. I will get you the money on Thursday, Friday at the latest. Four hundred, right?”

Her voice had shaken ever so slightly, and her eyes looked suddenly shiny. She was going to cry. Fuck that. “Yeah, that'll do it. And Friday is fine. I'm going to go, it looks like you've got some shit to handle here.”

“Yeah,” she let out a bitter laugh. “I'll come by after work on Friday. And again, I'm really sorry for everything.”

“See you Friday,” he replied. Train got out of there as fast as he could. He had no interest in some chick he didn't even know blubbering all over him, even if that blubbering meant that he'd likely get his hands on her and her outstanding ass. It was a complication, and he didn't need complications.

<#<#<<#<#

Friday night used to mean something completely different to Train. It meant a party, even if it were just a few of them actually partying, and it meant girls. Warm, willing girls who were all too eager to crawl all over him. By now, he'd have had at least one blow job. Instead, he had his dick in his own hand. He'd seen the porno on the screen before, but that didn't lessen his enjoyment of it. He got to the good part and got off, but it wasn't the same.

The porno was still playing when the doorbell rang. Train cleaned himself up and muted the porn. He carried his gun with him to the door, since he wasn't expecting anyone. It was only once he looked out the peephole that he remembered he was. It was the neighbor, Meg. He tucked his gun in the back of his pants and undid the locks. “Hey.”

“Hey. I've got that cash for you.” She dug in a purse roughly half the size of her body and pulled out an envelope. “It's four hundred like you said.”

“Thanks.” He took the envelope. She wore what looked to be a uniform, unflattering black pants and a light blue button-down shirt. “Where do you work?”

“I work at the hotel over at the casino.” She replied. “I should get home. The babysitter charges an extra five dollars for every fifteen minutes I'm late.”

“They've been quiet the past few days.” Train didn't know why he voiced the thought.

“They've been grounded, but they'll keep being quiet. I'm not working nights anymore.” She smiled. “And I'm sorry again that they broke your window and annoyed you.”

“You apologize a lot,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. I've heard that before.” The smile faded from her face, and he played back what he'd said to figure out what part of that could have pissed her off. Women! Who could figure them out and who would want to? “I'm going to go. Good night.”

“Night.” Train watched her turn and walk off the porch. He shut the door when she got to the sidewalk. He turned his attention to the envelope he'd taken from her. Inside was four hundred dollars in crisp twenties. He might not have known much about his new neighbor, but he knew that she kept her word and that she had a really nice ass. It was too bad that she had kids and an old man, or he'd have followed her out the door and tried to wrangle an invitation inside. He needed to get laid. Train grinned as he looked down at the money in his hands. Four hundred dollars would buy him a few lap dances and a happy ending, if he played his cards right.

Instead of going upstairs and getting dressed, he found himself back in the living room. The window had cost him over four hundred dollars to replace, more when you considered the pizza and beer he'd bought to feed Monroe after they were done. The logical part of his brain had made the decision for him because it would be ridiculous to be out that much money just for the opportunity to get his dick wet.

Fuck, he missed the bar. The remote control he'd picked up when he sat back down on the couch flew out of his hand before he even thought of it. It missed the television, thankfully but shattered into a few pieces as it hit the wall. Train groaned and realized he wasn't even sure how to manually change the channels on the flat screen. Great. The fact made him even madder, and he got up. Train recognized the feelings swarming through him, even though it had been a while. He knew that the mood swings weren't gone; they'd always been there, always a part of him. He'd just been able to hold them off.

Not going out tonight was the right choice. He wasn't fit for human company when his mood went down. It had taken a long time for him to realize it, and now he accepted it. Nightshade knew and accepted it, too, but he knew that if he felt the need to reach out to any of them, they would be there. It was a comfort to him, a sharp contrast to what he'd been brought up believing. From the family who had spawned him, he'd learned anger. He'd learned to think that screaming was the same as talking, a fist to the face was a sign of affection, and most important of all, when you needed help they wouldn't be around. The anger that had bubbled up to the surface gave way to something else. Something darker and deeper. Something that dragged him down and held him under.

Chapter Two

“Damn it all to hell. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Meg Castle punctuated each word with a kick to the side of her car. Or what had been her car before some genius had come along and side swiped the shit out of it. There was a clear trail of paint transfer from a red vehicle. Now she was going to have to miss work, and hours that she desperately needed, to deal with the pain in her ass of calling the police to have them fill out a report for the insurance company.

“Meg!” Joshua came flying out of the house, book bag over his shoulder. “We've got to go! I forgot that I had breakfast detention today. If I'm late, I'll get another day of it, so come on!” He yanked at the passenger door. “Aunt Meg?”

“Gonna be late today, kiddo.” Meg pulled her phone from her purse. “What time does the bus pick up by Buck's house?” Buck was one of the boys' long-time friends, who lived about four blocks away.

“Like twenty minutes ago. Stop playing around,” Joshua screamed.

“Watch your tone,” she replied sharply, maybe too sharply. Figuring out how to be the one responsible for two young lives was a work in progress, even though she'd been doing it for about five years now. “And I'm not playing around. Someone hit the car last night. I'm no mechanic, but I'm pretty sure that the wheels aren't supposed to bend in.”

“I'm going to get in trouble if I miss!” He swung the book bag and hit the car. Joshua had a temper, a temper that scared her sometimes. He was very much like his father, her brother, in that way. It seemed to get worse the older he got, or maybe it was just that he was getting bigger.

“Maybe you shouldn't have done whatever you did to get detention. And how come I didn't know about detention?” Meg demanded. The boys keeping things from her was new, and she was pretty sure that it was a direct reflection of the additional time that Josh had been spending with them since he'd been released from County nearly eight months ago. First the video game money, and now the detention. It didn't give her a good feeling.

“Dad signed the paper. It was stupid. I was late because I was in the bathroom.” Joshua replied with a roll of his eyes that he tried to hide by looking away.

“So you were late once and got detention? Somehow, I'm not sure that's how it works. You're already grounded here, Joshua, and you've got another week to go.” Meg counted to ten slowly in her head. She couldn't lose her temper. She had to set the good example.

“I just had to go to the bathroom!” Joshua screamed the words. “Why don't you believe me? Dad believes me!”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that his father would believe that the sky was purple if he was high enough, but she held back. As hard as it was at times, she didn't want to badmouth Josh to his kids. “Alright. If you were only in the bathroom because you had to go and hadn't been late to class before, I think that I should call the school. Talk to someone.”

Joshua let out a frustrated shout. “I'm going to walk to school.”

“You're not walking. Today, the two of you stay home. The punishment is still in full effect, in case you were wondering. I'll be right in. I've just got to call the cops.” The mere thought of placing the call gave her a stomachache. Her experiences with Detroit's finest hadn't been positive ones. They'd all involved Josh in some way, and her desperately trying to plead for them to look past what he'd done because she didn't know what else to do.

Meg didn't realize how long she'd stood there until someone touched her on the shoulder. She whirled around, heart racing in her chest. It took a moment for her to recognize the man when she turned around. “Detective Monroe?”

He chuckled. “These days, no one calls me that. It's just Monroe. You look like you're having a shitty morning.”

“Some douche hit my car. Didn't leave a note. Not a big surprise.” No matter what he called himself, he'd always been nice to her. Always took the time to explain the shit that Josh had gotten in, and once, he'd given her money for groceries after Josh had blown everything he'd taken from the house at an illegal casino.

“Anything I can do?”

“You wouldn't happen to be able to still write police reports I can send to my insurance company?” Meg smiled. “I'm just about to call it in. I figure that someone might get here to take the report before I qualify for social security.”

“Don't be sure of that. Property damage isn't going to be high on their list. Let me make the call, I've still go a few friends who owe me one.”

“You don't have to do that, but please do. Maybe I can get to work today. Fuck, I've got to call a sitter with the boys home if I can. Damn it, she's going to rape me with last-minute rates.”

“The boys sick?” Monroe asked.

“No. I'm not mobile, and they missed the closest bus.” She let out a laugh. “Have you ever tried getting a taxi in this town?”

“Can't say that I have, or that I'd want to. Look, I can drop the boys off, if you don't mind them riding in my borderline creepy van.”

“There's no borderline about it,” Meg replied with a glance over to the black van that had obviously seen better days. “And I'm pretty sure that they'll love it. Let me go in and get them.” But before she could start towards the house, both boys came out the door. They'd obviously been watching. “Come on, kiddos. Monroe is going to give you a ride to school.”

“I'm not riding with a cop.” Joshua replied. He crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to look menacing. It wasn't a very good attempt.

“Good thing I'm not a cop anymore.” Monroe spoke up. “You want the ride or not?” He winked at Meg as they came down the stairs. “I'll make that call and check back in with you to let you know when to expect someone.”

“I really appreciate it. I can't even...”

“Then don't,” he smiled at her. Meg felt a little flutter at the smile. She'd nearly worked her way up to a powerful crush on him after the first time they'd met. Nearly because she realized there was no way in hell a badge was going to get involved with the sister of a well known junkie and thief. “Oh, I'm going to need your number.”

Meg rattled it off. He stored it in his phone and walked across the street with the boys. Leo laughed at something he said. Sweet little Leo, who was the opposite of his anger-filled brother. He was a kind and sensitive kid, older than his years because he understood the world they lived in better than Joshua did. She stayed at the street until the van pulled away.

The van slowed a few houses down. The horn honked and Monroe came to a full stop. She saw Train walk over. He shot a glance down her way, and she waved. He didn't wave back. Meg sighed. Yeah, today was not going to be her day. She looked down at her wrist, saw that it was nearly time for her to be at work. “Shit!” She dug her phone out and walked towards the house. Doug, the daytime manager, picked up the phone when she'd hoped to get his voice mail. Just great. “Hey Doug, it's Meg. I've got a situation here.”