Antichrist

Niko has his back to me, and just as I take a step into the room, the bathroom door closes to the side and I watch as Lydia enters, wearing a Seven Knights shirt that hangs to her upper thigh.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she purrs, lifting the T-shirt from above her head and straddling Niko’s lap. “Maybe I can change that. You know,” she leans into his ear. “Sex is good for pregnancies.”

I step back, my breath caught in my throat. Niko is going to be a dad.

I gently close the door and back up the hallway, my heart thudding in my chest to a slow, heavy beat. I bang into someone and spin around, my eyes colliding with Ma.

“Sorry…” I mumble, looking everywhere but at her. “I—ah—I should go, Ma. I shouldn’t be here.”

Ma’s eyes narrow on me before they swing to the door I just came out of and come back to me. “She in there?”

“Who?” I try for nonchalant, but it’s Ma, and she can sense any shift of emotions faster than a sniffer dog can drugs at an airport.

“Lydia. She in there?”

“Yes,” I hiss quietly, grabbing her by the wrist and directing her down the stairs I came from. Once we’re back in the safety of the kitchen and away from anyone else, I close the door behind us.

“What’s the matter, Bub?” Her gentle tone gasses me up enough to open my eyes.

My throat is clogged, swollen by the words I want to say but I know I’ll never have the chance to do so, so they’ll sit there, like poison, wrapping around the nerves in my body.

“Luca, he…” I pause, then push off the door and slowly make my way to the kitchen table.

I know I shouldn’t overshare with Ma, not when it comes to Luca. She’ll take anything I give her and use it as an alibi for murder. I’m not joking when I say this woman will kill him for less than she’ll ever know of what he puts me through.

“He just wasn’t himself tonight.” That was a lie.

The shift in his dominance always left a foul taste in my mouth. My nerves are running around my body like a live wire and I need to be careful with my next words.

“What do you mean?” Ma says, and the scraping of the chair jolts me. “He do something to you?”

I smile instantly, as if to assure her no. “No! Not at all. Not like that, just… different.”

Ma studies me carefully, her gentle eyes eating all of the emotions I’m sure are showing on my face. “You went up to talk with Niko, but Lydia was there.”

I reach for the bottle of moonshine on the middle of the table. “Yes, but it’s okay. They’re—” My face pales. “Whatever they are.”

I stand and make my way to the door, ready to be out of here and away, but where? I don’t really want to be home with Luca either. I kind of just want to drink this bottle.

“Meraki,” Ma says, just as my hand touches the knob. “You know that he would always rather it be you.”

I wince at her words, unable to take them apart and read the spaces between. I can’t afford to. Not now, and possibly not ever.

I leave the bottle on the counter and pull my phone out, dialing Cece to pick me up.

Sleeping is a talent. One I’m not good at.

I roll out of the bed, kicking the sheets off my body while staring at Lydia’s sleeping form beside me.

Fuck.

She’s pregnant.

How the fuck did I get here? Oh, I know… dumb fuck. This ain’t gonna end well. For more than one reason.

Running my fingers through my hair, I reach for the cigarette packet on my bedside table and take one out, placing it between my teeth. I was about to fucking break it off with her—for good. I had my entire fucking speech ready in my head, and what does she do? Drop that bomb. Lydia has been a good distraction, but she’s fulfilled her service. I should have just gone with plan A and fucking killed the bitch before talking with her. At least I wouldn’t need to live with the knowledge of also killing my child.

I stand from the bed and pull up my jeans, leaving the belt undone. As I make my way downstairs, I grab the Zippo out of my back pocket and light up, replacing it with my phone. I check the time around a cloud of smoke.

5:23 a.m.

Fuck. I was hoping it would be earlier than that so I can at least try to get back to sleep.

The clubhouse is dead to the world, but there are bodies sprawled all over the floor, titties bare, asses out, and I’m pretty sure I just saw Fanta’s little cock. I’m still swearing under my breath when I slam into the kitchen and find Ma on the kitchen table, a cigarette between her fingers and a coffee in her hand. Dark circles rim her eyes, and I’m certain she’s still wearing the same clothes she was in last night.