Page 22 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

KEATON

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but I didn’t think I’d ever slept somewhere nearly as comfortable as Ginny’s new bed.

When I woke up, several hours had passed, and my eyelids felt heavy.

My head ached, but I’d dealt with worse, so it didn’t worry me.

Getting into these sorts of fights was normal in the park.

As long as the cops didn’t show up, we were usually fine.

I groaned and rubbed the bump on my head, flinching at the sharp pain that zipped through me.

Fuck . I supposed that’s what I got for messing with Manky and his crew while I was emotional.

But at least Ginny seemed to be taking Mom’s death better.

I didn’t think that’d last, though. How much of death did she understand?

Once night came and Mom wasn’t lying in the bed beside her, maybe reality would hit harder.

The thought made me sick. I didn’t know how to help Ginny through grief, especially when I was trying to wrap my brain around it. Which reminded me, I still needed to go back and talk to Manky, and now was the best time to do it because Zayn had Ginny and I could sneak away.

I grabbed my phone and made a call to work and was surprised to find out there were days I could take because Mom died.

Next, I talked to Ginny’s school to let them know she wasn’t coming in today—something I should’ve done earlier—and then forced myself to my feet.

I wobbled but managed to keep upright, which was honestly a surprise.

Once I was sure Zayn and Ginny weren’t home, I went outside, careful not to slam the door too loudly.

His house was expensive—that’s the only word I could think of to describe it.

I felt out of place. Even before we moved to the trailer park, we’d never lived in a home that was as big or as beautiful as Zayn’s.

It was odd to see my scruffy boots against the wooden floors, and it reminded me of how different we were.

We came from completely opposite worlds.

Zayn might enjoy the idea of having me and Ginny in his house for now, but I doubted it’d last long.

I got an Uber, and as soon as the car arrived, I shoved myself in the back seat and kept my mouth shut.

The driver didn’t bother to start a conversation and neither did I.

The closer he got to the trailer park, though, the more tense he became.

It was clear how much he hated the idea of driving there.

Our park had been on the news a few times, and it didn’t have the best reputation.

We weren’t all terrible people, but the worst residents gave us a bad name.

“You can stop outside the gate,” I muttered, and the driver sighed in relief. He sent me a smile through the rearview mirror.

The moment he stopped and I slid out the door, he immediately took off, his tires squealing as he sped away as fast as possible. I shook my head with a snort and shoved my hands into my pants pockets as I walked past the sign with the missing L and into the park.

There was more activity than earlier. To my left, I caught Mrs. Edwards bustling around with her four small children, all under the age of five, and to my right was Thorley, who clearly had a day off work and was humoring a couple of the guys with a crazy loud story that involved him sweeping his arms around.

When Thorley saw me, he waved, and I nodded in return.

The farther I got into the park, the more people I came across, and I was mostly ignored except by those I regularly had contact with.

Everyone living here had learned to mind their own business.

You mostly had to. Some liked bullshitting, but the gossip stopped at the park.

We were our own little fucked-up community that came with the good and bad members.

Manky was where I’d left him this morning, moaning about his life while lying on the lawn chair.

This time, all three of his friends were with him, so I didn’t have to worry about any surprises.

Peanut had a busted-up face, and when he caught sight of me, he glared out of swollen eyes.

Good. The bastard deserved it. I might kiss Zayn extra hard tonight for his protection.

Buds and Sparks were both passed out on the grass, and if I didn’t know him better, I’d almost be worried Sparks was dead with the way he was sprawled awkwardly, shirt riding up his stomach.

But he liked to sleep that way after a long night of shooting up.

Buds was a heavy sleeper, so his snores came out no softer than a chainsaw.

Manky caught sight of me and gave me the stink eye. “Whatchu want, traitor?”

I kept my hands shoved in my pockets, hoping to come across as friendlier. I’d approached him with too much anger this morning and it had ended up bad for both of us. The last thing I wanted was another visit from the cops or more injuries. Ginny was already upset with me.

“I don’t want to fight with you, dude. I want answers.” I raised my chin and jutted out my jaw. “Did you give Mom those drugs?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Manky spat back out, his glare deepening. “Because I got nothin’ for you, butt boy.”

I frowned. Did he not know about Mom? Clearly not. Fuck. I brought out a hand to rub my forehead. “She’s dead, Manks. She had an accident and crashed the car. Totaled it. She’s dead and the cops told me she was high. She doesn’t do drugs.”

Manky froze as Peanut turned a surprised look at him. “Dead?”

I sliced my fingers through my hair and heaved a sigh.

Trudging over to one of the spare lawn chairs, I fell into it.

“Yeah. Dead. Why do you think the cops were here this morning? They think someone in here gave the shit to her.” I pressed my lips together tightly until they hurt, but I released the pressure again.

“I just wanna know. Was it you? Did she get the meth from you?”

“Fuck.” Manky sat up, kicking his feet off each side of the chair so they were both on the ground.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his thick eyebrows dipping low on his forehead.

“Listen, butt boy, I don’t like you, but I don’t want the pigs hanging around, either. You tell them it was me?”

“Fuck no.” I grunted. “I didn’t tell them jack shit. You know I hate the cops as much as you do.”

He nodded. “Fine, then I’ll tell you what I know.

I didn’t give your mom the meth, all right?

We barely had some for ourselves last night.

It was fucking hard to get high off that weak shit.

We saw your old girl and asked her for cash to call our friend to make a deal.

She told us she’d give us the cash if she could get some, too.

” He wrung his hands. “Our contact don’t meet just anyone, but we wanted to get high, so we agreed.

He rolled in, and they got along real good, if you know what I mean.

Your mom’s still tight. I’d fuck her, too. ”

I tensed, and he held up his palms.

“I didn’t fuck her, but she had no cash like she told us she did.

So, her and our contact went back to your trailer to look for it.

But methinks they got it on because our contact came out and gave us the stash, you know?

That all happened yesterday afternoon. We didn’t see her after that.

” He shrugged. “Just assumed she was getting high alone. Which obviously she did.”

It didn’t make sense. Mom had never been interested in drugs. What had changed and how did I not see it? I scrubbed my face. “All right. Who’s your contact?”

Manky shot to his feet and pointed at me. “Fuck off. I’m not telling you that.”

I rose as slowly as I could despite the anger that battered my head.

My blood turned hot, a liquid fury that gave me the urge to fucking hurt this asshole until I got answers, but I was already sore and had to return to Zayn’s house.

If I came back bloodier than when I left, I had a feeling I’d get more than a lecture.

“Manky, you owe me. Mom is dead . I have to raise my little sister. I need his fucking name.”

Peanut made a sound in the back of his throat and his Adam’s apple bobbed as though the thought of this contact scared the fuck out of him. But I didn’t care. I’d deal with the consequences.

Manky shifted on his feet, then swore again. “You’re gonna get me killed, butt boy. Why should I tell you anything?”

I scrubbed the back of my neck in irritation before I dragged out my wallet from my pocket. I got some cash I’d been painfully holding on to for emergencies and passed it to him. It wasn’t much, about fifty bucks, but even a dollar was worth something around here.

He grinned. “All’s I got is a name and number. I don’t know anything else. I got the contact through Dutch before he disappeared.”

It didn’t surprise me. Dutch was the main person to get the heavy stuff around here, but then he’d vanished. No one had any idea what had happened to him, and other assholes moved in to take his place.

“Fine. Text it to me. Now.”

Manky made a nasty sound and yanked out his phone from his bathrobe pocket.

The screen was cracked, splintered like a spiderweb, and the sides of it were abused, chunks of the phone missing.

It reminded me of our lives in this park.

We were damaged, broken, and falling apart, but still surviving. Barely.

He tapped on his screen hard until mine buzzed in my pocket. I checked to make sure he’d sent the info—he had, and the contact’s name was Goldie. He grinned, his gray teeth, what few he had, making me cringe away from him. “Pleasure doing business with you, butt boy.”

“Fuck you, junkie,” I spat back at him.