Page 180 of Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

“Fuck!” Will kicks the trash can by the trailer in anger. “I have her fucking money right here. I…” He gestures to his own car. “She couldn’t have waited a goddamn hour. She had to…”

Realization of what’s happening here makes me sick to my stomach. I wanted to give his mother the benefit of the doubt, but the evidence is damning.

She’s prostituting herself.

In exchange for her fix.

And I’m guessing Will is paying for her shit because he would rather give her money himself than watch her…

Oh my God.

Then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, the door creaks open. A frail woman who seems to be in her early forties stands on the other side, her post-sex, honey-colored hair cascading down her shoulders. Wearing a lilac bathrobe, she looks like she just woke up. Her delicate features peek through the dark spots under her eyes. I’ll admit, she’s nothing like what I pictured.

Sure, she looks older than her age, exhausted and a bit worn-out by a hard life, but she’s still beautiful—Will had to get his charm somewhere. Her good looks solidify my hunch. I’m sure she’s got plenty of dealers willing to negotiate.

“Honey, y-you’re here early.” She tries to smooth down her hair. “I thought I heard something.”

Lady, you thought you heard something? How about a violent altercation and a glass bottle being smashed against your house? I don’t know what she took, but it’s working.

“Oh.” She notices me. “Baby, is that her? Your girlfriend? William, she’s so pretty.”

It’s strange.

Hearing her call Will by his full name.

“Kassidy, is it? It’s so nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand to me.

I see it now.

She’s the kind of person you want to believe. Charismatic, seemingly harmless—manipulative. Must be how she keeps her son wrapped around her pinky. I lift my hand to meet hers, but Will stops me, catching my fingers into his.

“You’re not meeting her. We’re out of here. Come on.” He urges me toward the car.

“William!” She runs after us, too intoxicated to notice the glass cracking under her slippers. “Why are you leaving? Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Will spins. “What’s wrong is you fucking called Steve!”

His mom stops short.

“Honey, you have to understand, he… He’s helping me. He said he’d find me a job.”

Will’s anger decreases. Don’t tell me he’s falling for it. I squeeze his hand in the dumb hope it’ll knock some sense into him. Much to my surprise, it works.

“Let me guess, as his own personal whore?”

His mother’s jaw hits the floor, her skin paling.

“Save your breath. I saw him sneak out.”

She smacks her mouth shut, knowing damn well she’s busted.

“You were never looking for work, were you?”

“William, please. It’s just not the right time for me, I’ll… I’ll get back on my feet soon, I promise.”

Will opens my car door for me, willing me to slide into the passenger seat. As he rounds the vehicle to reach the driver’s side, his mom leaps in his way.

“William, wait,” I hear her beg through my opened window.