"J, get in the car right now," I say firmly, extending my keys to him. He silently takes them and walks out the door.
I turn my attention to William and say, "You will not be using him for money."
My tone oozes with venom, but he just smirks. "And who says you can dictate anything between me and my son?" he retorts.

He says the word son like it's meant to get under my skin. I could give a lesser fuck if he claims me or not, but I won't allow him to manipulate my brother.
"Ya see how thrilled he is to have his Pops back. Ya really gonna mess that up? That ain't right, Trey," he mocks, shaking his head in disapproval.
J's previous words ring in my head. Maybe it's because you didn't have a dad, so you made sure we didn't have one either.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach. I already feel like it's my fault and it doesn't help that Mom openly blames me for it. Maybe I need to trust that J is old enough to decide for himself if he wants William in his life or not.
"Fine, but I don't want him anywhere near here. You meet him in a public place," I insist, gritting my teeth.
The "pity" face comes out to play again. "And you'll foot the bills, right? Your greedy bi-, mother be takin' my check. I heard 'bout your restaurant. It would be a damn shame if we couldn't reconnect, due to funds that I know you have."

I clench my jaw even tighter, almost to the point of breaking my teeth. "Fine. Just make sure you never lay a fucking hand on him. If I ever find out that you've hurt him, I'll kill you," I say with a snarl.
He smirks, that look of satisfaction on his face making me feel sick. "Why in the world would I do somethin' like that?"
I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Oh right, I forgot. You only hit women and defenseless children."
I can tell I've struck a nerve because his nice guy act vanishes in an instant. He clenches his fists, his face contorting with anger. "You better watch your mouth, you little bastard!" he spits out.

As he grabs my arm, rage fills my vision and I forcefully slam him against the wall. The woman shrieks and rushes into the room. My hand tightens around his neck, and I lock eyes with him, seething with pure hatred. Fear floods his widened eyes as I constrict his breath."Don't ever touch me again. I'm not a little kid anymore, I will end your miserable fucking life!" I snarl.
I release him, and the sound of his raspy cough fills the air. Without looking back, I tell him, "Just message me on Facebook when you need money for him." I storm out of the trailer and slam the door behind me.
I hop in my car and rev the engine, speeding away from the trailer park. The more distance I put between us, the more my hands relax their hold on the steering wheel.
"You didn't forbid him from seeing me, right?" Jeremiah asks quietly.
"No," I grit through my teeth. I release a deep sigh as I pull into Mom's driveway, fixing him with a stern gaze. "J, he's not the loving, caring father you'be always imagined. You gotta be cautious around him because he will use you."
He frowns thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm learning that about Mom too. Did you even know he was paying child support?"
"No."
"Our parents are seriously fucked up," he mutters. "That's why I keep getting into fights. This kid and his group of dickhead friends keep saying I'm going to turn up like them."
"Well, you won't. You're a good kid, I know you'll create your own path, and if you find yourself going down the wrong one, I'll be there to steer you back."
He gives a slight nod and smiles. "Thanks, Trey. I appreciate it."
I follow him into the house to find Mom sitting on the couch with a beer in hand. "Jeremiah Timothy Thompson, I can't believe you got suspended again!" she shouts.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut in, "Don't worry Mama, I dealt with it. He'll still be suspended for a week, but for his punishment, he'll be helping me at the restaurant."
"What? Seriously?" He lets out an exasperated groan.
"Head upstairs before you dig yourself into a deeper hole," I mutter under my breath for his ears only. He takes off upstairs.
Mom looks at me with gratitude. "I really appreciate how you handled that. He's been needin' some good ol' male guidance, 'cause his friends ain't cuttin' it."
I shrug. "That's what I'm here for."
I want to talk with her about what went down at William's trailer, but I know now isn't the right time. Who knows how many beers she has had, and I don't need anything hurled at me today. I'm about to head out, but she stops me and says, "Wait, can you do ya Mama a favor?" She puckers her lips, and I wait patiently for her request.
Ugh, her and her favors.
I wonder if it's Newports or more beer this time.
She walks to the kitchen and returns with a cake pan. "Can you drop this cake off at Kiara's? I know she must be feelin' down after Candy left."
At the mention of her name, my ears perk up, but my expression remains stoic. It's been weeks since I last saw my Cupcake, and while I'm trying to honor her desire to be "friends" (even though friends don't usually ignore each other), I'm eager for my next dose of her presence.
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I arrive at her apartment building and park right by the elevator. I spot her car nearby, so it looks like she's at least here. Who knows if she'll actually open the door or not.
I take a ride in the elevator up to the third floor, searching for apartment 306. My heart races with anticipation as I knock on the door. However, after a few minutes pass with no sign of movement inside, I begin to wonder if she's knocked out or simply didn't hear it.
As I stand outside the apartment, an older woman steps out from hers. "Are you trying to find Kiara?"
I give a little nod and say, "Yeah, I'm just a friend dropping this off." I raise the cake pan to show her.
Her face scrunches up with worry. "Might want to check downstairs. Haven't seen an eviction notice on her door, but she's constantly in that car of hers. Wonder if that shitty boyfriend has something to do with it."
What the hell? Is she trying to say she's living in her car? Was her ex not pitching in? Is she struggling with money? Why didn't she say anything to Candy? I know I would've heard about it by now if she did.
Everything makes sense now. I had a feeling she was lying before about her apartment being fumigated the night we met. That means she's been living in her car for weeks! WEEKS!!!
I thank the woman, and quickly make my way downstairs to the garage, clutching the cake pan in my hands. As I approach her car, our eyes lock, and she tries to duck down, but it's too late.
I got you now, Cupcake!