VEGASPETE🔞+KILL FOR YOU

Prologue

PETE - 12 years old

"Throw it long, Pete, like I taught you," Jake hollers to me. We are at our local park throwing ball after his school football practice. I love spending time with my big brother like this. My mom is not well, she is in the hospital with cancer. My dad said she will be going to heaven soon, but I don't want her to leave.

Jake keeps telling me everything will be fine, though, and I believe him. He is the best big brother. Well, technically, he's my stepbrother. My mom married his dad when I was six years old. I don't know my real daddy but Jake's dad is the best too. They both look out for me, take me to football games, and teach me how to be a man.

"Ready?" I shout to Jake.

He claps his hands. "Yeah, throw it."

I pull my right arm back like Jake taught me and throw the football as hard as I can towards him. It glides perfectly into the air as it curves its way towards him where he catches it easily.

"Yes! You did it, Pete. Awesome!" he shouts and runs over to me with a big smile on his face. I think Jake is proud of me. He rubs my dark hair roughly. I giggle. "We'll make a football player of you yet," he says right when his cell phone rings. He looks at the screen before answering.

"Hey, Dad," he says. I can't hear what Daddy is saying, but Jake has gone still, frowning as he gazes at me. I frown in sync with him.

"Okay, see you soon," he says and ends the call. He crouches in front of me and even though he's only fifteen years old, he is a lot bigger than me.

"Dad is coming to pick us up. Mom needs to see us, she's not feeling great," he says softly, gripping my shoulder and gently squeezing it.

I relax and comfort blankets me. "We're going to the hospital?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah. Come on, let's go wait for Dad in the parking lot."

He keeps his hand on my shoulder as we walk quietly to wait for Dad. A few minutes pass before his car turns up, and we both hop in quickly. Dad doesn't say anything, doesn't even say hello to me as we drive to the hospital. The silence in the car is so thick you could bite into it. Jake occasionally looks back at me from the passenger seat with a reassuring smile. All I do is focus on the streets that pass us by. Families outside enjoying the final hours of sunshine, smiles on their faces, and I hate them. I hate that they are living their lives, full of happiness while we are beginning to mourn the loss of ours. My hands fidget in my lap, unable to contain the need to move as I rub them together over and over until they are sore. The soreness distracts me from the heavy feeling in my stomach. Mom might be leaving me.

We arrive at the hospital, and after parking the car, we head to see my mom. As we ride the elevator, Jake grips my shoulder again. "It's going to be okay. I'll always look out for you, Pete," he whispers.

I believe he'll look after me, but it doesn't stop my stomach from feeling nauseous like I've eaten too much candy on Halloween. Every year Mom would stop me as I shoveled gobs of candy into my mouth after trick-or-treating.

"Pete," she'd said. "Any more candy and you will be sick, save some for later."

She always said it in a sweet teasing voice. Halloween was always our thing, eating candy on my bed while watching the neighborhood fireworks from my bedroom. I was always too scared to watch them outside, so instead she would cuddle up with me under a blanket and we'd enjoy them together.

Will we ever get to do that again? Will she help me make good decisions? Soothe me when I'm scared? She will get better, right? She has to get better.

We get off the elevator and head to my mom's room. I hate it here. I don't like the antiseptic smell, and I don't like how poorly she looks in her bed. She would feel better at home.

"My little boy," she says when she sees me. She doesn't look like Mom. She's thinner and paler than she was four days ago and her voice sounds weird, all hoarse and rough like she has a cold. I run to her side and she holds me in a hug.

"Mom, when are you coming home?" I ask and I can feel tears in my eyes. Boys don't cry, my daddy says, but I can't help it.

"Pete, don't fuss, she's not well," Daddy says.

"Leave him, Ron. He's fine," my mom says to my dad, who sits on the chair in the corner of the room. Jake is standing a little behind me. I can feel him, always there for me.

Pete, you need to listen," Mom says, gasping. Then she gasps again as her breathing fails her, clamoring for the oxygen mask. She's able to fit it over her mouth in time to take a few slow breaths. I wait patiently for her words. I want every last one of her words.

"Pete, I am going to be leaving for Heaven soon, do you remember?" she asks. I nod. "You have to promise to be a good boy, make Mom proud, keep going to school, and make the most of your life," she says, succumbing to another coughing fit.

"Always remember," she says once she catches her breath. "I love you so much and I will always be by your side, my beautiful little boy." A few tears leave her eyes along with a small choked sob. The dark circles under her exhausted eyes are as dark as bruises.

"I don't want you to go, I want to go with you." My stomach gets tighter, and the tears pour down my face. She's going to die, I don't want her to die.

"No, you have to stay here. Live a long, beautiful life, Pete, and I will be waiting for you at the end. Be happy and that will make me happy," she whispers and grabs me in a tight hug. We are both crying, and I don't want to move. I sniff her neck and hair. She smells like my mom, flowers and hugs.

"I love you so much, my boy," she gasps.

"I love you too, Mom."

She gently pushes me back and strokes my cheek, before kissing my forehead.

"Jake, can you take Pete outside for a while? I need to speak to your daddy," she says.

"Sure, come on, Pete," Jake says, and he guides me by my shoulder away from my mom.

I end up crying all night, begging for my mom to come home. Daddy ignores me, but Jake crawls into bed behind me, stroking my hair.

"It's okay, I've got you now, baby brother," he says softly as I drift off, dreaming of Mom, hoping she feels better now that she is in Heaven.

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