Page 107 of Renegade

“Fix it?” I shrieked. “How in the fuck can you fix this? You killed my mother, you bastard. You took her away—just when things were good, you destroyed it.”

I shoved him and fell back from the exertion, breathing heavily.

I saw her photograph in my mind again and shook my head back and forth wildly. “Go away! Go away!” A guttural roar broke free from my chest.

Mike used his shirt to wipe the blood from his face before coming toward me again. As if in defiance, tears and blood continued to freely flow down his cheeks. “Please, baby, let me hold you. Let me fix this.”

The fight gone out of me, I sank down onto the couch in defeat. My brain hadn’t yet wrapped itself around the fact that she was gone for good, so my first thought was to call her and tell her I had a fight with Mike. It was like reopening the gaping wound in my chest all over again.

I’d never be able to call her again.

She would never see me get married.

She would never hold a child of mine in her arms.

He’d taken that from me.

“She didn’t overdose,” I said hoarsely.

He made a face. “Lauren, she was found with a needle in her arm.”

I shook my head. “No, Mike. She was murdered…and her blood is all over your hands. Get out.”

He sighed, “Lauren, if you’d just let me—”

I jumped back onto my feet and grabbed a fistful of his shirt with one hand, while pummeling him as hard as I could with the other.

“You.” I slapped him across the face.

“Mother.” The fist that had been holding his shirt connected with his abdomen.

“Fucker.” My knee came up into his groin.

“I wish it had been you,” I wept, while he stood stoically, taking my abuse.

Mike nodded. “I wish it had been me too.”

We stared at each other in silence, my body quaking with grief. I realized as I stood there that I’d not only lost my mom this morning, but him as well. He may have been standing in front of me, but what we’d had between us was long gone.

Regardless of what he said, he’d signed her death warrant when he refused to help me. That was something I would never be able to forgive.

“Get out,” I croaked.

He shook his head, “If you’d just let me stay—”

“Get. Out.” I enunciated each word before pointing at the door.

This time he listened. Once the door clicked shut, I laid back down on the couch, hearing my mother’s voice singing softly in my head. It sounded like a lullaby and I wondered if she’d sung to me when I was a baby. I’d never be able to ask her about it now though.

She hadn’t killed herself—someone had wanted her silent.

I stared listlessly through the balcony doors. A bird landed on the railing and watched me curiously for a moment before flying away. I could hear the traffic down on the street and it all felt wrong. Life was carrying on normally outside—as if her life had meant nothing. As if she hadn’t mattered.

My mother had been so much more than one box. She was more than just a statistic or a number.

“Mom?” I managed to rasp, “I don’t know if you’re somewhere that you can still hear me…but, I love you too.” Sobs overtook me again and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shield my soul from the tragedy of it all.

I wasn’t going to let her become a cold case while her killer roamed the streets. With cops like Mike accepting bribes at every turn, no one was going to put much legwork into finding out what really happened.

I didn’t even care if I ended up a casualty, I was going to find out who’d killed her. I wasn’t going to let a morally bankrupt detective or a group of outlaw bikers stop me either. I was going to find those responsible.

And then I was going to make them pay.

To Be Continued…

in Traitor (Book:2)