Page 4 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

FOUR

AMbrOSE

How is he my fucking roommate?

I spent the rest of last school year and the summer couch surfing, and I finally got into a dorm late, and it’s his.

I scrub a hand over my face as I walk around the block.

I don’t have access to my gym anymore since my dad stopped paying for it, so I’d taken to long walks, and fitting in workouts wherever I can.

Also, maybe touching some grass and spending time outside is good for me or whatever.

Seems suspect, but I need something to do with all my rage so I don’t murder my father.

As much as I’d be doing the world a service, jail doesn’t sound fun.

And more than anything else, I don’t want to be him. It would be too easy to let him make me into an image of him, and that’s the last thing I want. I won’t let him win.

Before I even know where I’m going, I’m back at the bridge. I’ve always been drawn to it, but more so after meeting Tobi there. So when my memory gets heavy, I find myself back there. It’s not exactly close to college, and Queens has nothing left for me, but I still chase ghosts.

Tobi hasn’t said a word to me since I moved in. It’s only been a couple of days, but he’s like a block of ice, especially after seeing my hockey gear. I can’t wrap my head around what I did to piss him off so badly.

We had such a connection on the bridge. Or maybe I read into it way more than I should have.

I’ve walked the same path back to the bridge so many times over the last five months, hoping to see him, and now after seeing him in my room I’m back, trying to grasp at what happened.

Tobi won’t even speak to me now. It’s like he hates me for seeing him like that, and maybe I don’t blame him.

The path over the bridge is so familiar now, and I’m lost in my thoughts only to be ripped from them by the ghost of a familiar voice.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he says from behind me.

I turn and find the wrong ghost.

Instead of Tobi, it’s my step-brother. I’m instantly angry.

"Why are you following me?” I ask.

“I saw you walk past.”

“Bullshit. Did you AirTag me or some shit?” I ask, crossing my arms.

He wouldn’t, but my father would. Although he dislikes my father as much as I do, I don’t know why he’d follow me for him.

“I really saw you. I’ve been following you for a while to see where you’ve been hiding.”

“Hiding? That’s rich. He kicked me out, remember?” I say, like any of us have forgotten the last few months.

“He didn’t kick you out. He said he’d cut you off—”

I hold up a hand. “Making me choose is cutting me off. I’m never going to be who he wants. He can’t force me into the church because he’s ashamed his kid is—” I can’t bring myself to say it.

“I’m not trying to get in the middle of your argument. You know I don’t care who you take home at the end of the night, but Mom has raised you since you were nine. You can hate your father as much as you want, but Mom doesn’t deserve your silence. She’s so fucking worried.”

He’s almost nice.

Almost.

I shake my head, knowing I should drop it. There’s no reason to take his bait. He has no idea the extent of what that man did to me, and I’m tired of arguing with him about it. “I’m not having this argument with you or anyone else.”

“I’m not trying to argue with you. He’s not even home. She just wants to know you’re okay.” He steps toward me, and I move back. “She didn’t do this. He did.”

“She’s stayed married to him.”

“So?” he asks, clearly not getting it.

“So? Really? She’s fucking supporting his behavior. Condoning it even. She could divorce him.”

“I’m not saying she didn’t make mistakes, but you are on this bridge and not coming home at night.” He crosses his arms like he can force me to do what he wants, like when we were kids, but he’s not bigger than I am anymore.

“Tell her to take it up with my father.” I turn back around to continue my walk.

He follows but doesn’t speak.

“Can you fuck off?”

“I’m not going to do that.” He’s fucking smug about it.

“Don’t you have puck bunnies to fuck, or a party to go to?”

“I could say the same to you,” he says like he’s got one over on me.

“Who said I’m not heading to a party?” But that’s not what I want, because a fucking selfish part of me keeps thinking of the guy I met here, and it gives me another reason to walk this bridge.

“You’re not back here because…”

I whip around and snarl at him. “Fuck off. We are not friends just because we lived together for a decade.”

He smirks. “I’ll follow you and you’ll like it.”

“We aren’t kids anymore.” I don’t know how he gets me so fucking worked up.

“Where are you sleeping?” he demands.

“It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It matters to Mom.” He only cares about her feelings, and that’s why we don’t get along. “She is convinced you’re in some alley.”

“Dad cut me off, and she didn’t stop it, so as far as I’m concerned it’s none of your fucking business if I am sleeping in an alley.” I go back to my walk, willing him not to follow.

“You know that’s not her fault.” He jogs to catch up with me. “He’s gone tonight. Just come see her so she gets some sleep.”

I stop in my tracks and glance over at him. “I don’t like you, and I hate my father. I’m never stepping foot in that house again.”

“Don’t take your hate for me out on her.”

I almost want to give in to him. I do love his mother.

She was the only person who was kind to me in that house, but I need to remember that at the end of the day, she’s still married to the monster that is my father.

She’s chosen him every day for the last eleven years.

I’m just a fucking side quest or something to ease her damn guilt.

“I’m going to find out where you live. It’s easier if you just tell me now.”

“Why do you care?” It occurs to me that even if he does want his mother happy, we haven’t been friends since we were little. Why care now?

“Because I don’t want you to be fucking stupid and break her heart.

” He’s lying, but I don’t know why. “We’ve all suffered at your father’s hand.

Every single person in that fucking house.

So don’t act like you’re the only one, but you are making her suffer more.

” His words hurt, but I can’t do it. I can’t bring myself to go back there.

“None of you have to go back. You’re choosing to because you want his money, but hockey’s paying, and the smartest thing I can do is get out from under his thumb. Not my fault if you two choose him.”

“That’s really fucking short-sighted. What are the odds you go pro? Money is always going to matter.” He won’t get it because he’s always had the trust his father left him, so he doesn’t have to kiss my father’s ass.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. He pushed me until I broke, and now I’m free. I’d rather sleep in an alley and never see another dollar of his again than spend one more minute with him.” I start walking again, determined to get away from him.

“Ambrose.” He grabs my shoulder, and I turn, swinging at him. He blocks, but I throw a jab to his ribs. A cheap shot, but he deserves it.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, winded.

“Don’t fucking follow me again, Savage,” I spit.

“You can’t get rid of me so easily.”