Read Afire: Entire Blinded Series for Free Online Page A

me to act the way she'd like, but when you've had your arse unfairly tanned more times than you can count, respect kind of goes out the window.
    I swing my legs off the bed and walk barefoot to my bedroom door, opening it a little to peer through the crack. There she is, standing halfway up the stairs, peering at me through the banister rails. Those curlers she puts in her hair, Jesus, they make her look so old, yet she's only forty-two. And the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth—some would say they're from laughter, but shit, they're from constant frowning and pursing her lips. At me. At anyone who doesn't meet with her approval. Oh, she's good at hiding that side of her personality, I'll give her that. She changes at the click of finger and thumb, depending on the company.
    "Yeah?” I stare at her, willing the shudder ripping up my spine not to become visible. If she sees it, she'll start, and no way in hell do I want that. She'll accuse me of being a disrespectful little bastard, a pain up her arse, and any number of insults she can think of.
    "I need milk.” She rests a hand on her bony hip, loose bingo wings flapping.
    The blue flowery dress she favours disguises her thin frame, but underneath she's slim to the point of being unhealthy. Blue steely eyes bore into me, narrowed as though she's daring me to say I won't go to the shop. I want to say that, want to tell her to get her own skinny arse up there, but the reprisals just aren't worth it.
    "Okay. Won't be a minute.” I close my bedroom door before she has time to say anything more. Talking to her isn't something I enjoy. Being in her company...well, let's just say I'd rather not.
    She's prickly at the best of times. Like a rose stem, she's got thorns all over her, and you've just got to get lucky and touch the smooth bits. But, man, if she turns too quickly, you get stabbed, and she hurts. Hurts .
    I slip on my trainers, grab my jacket, and pick up my phone, texting Ryan to see if he fancies a walk. He might not be back from work yet, but it's worth a shot. Message sent and jacket on, I swing open my door to find Mum still standing on the stairs, glancing at her watch. She looks up and frowns, shakes her head as if she can't believe how long it's taken me to come out of my room. A spike of hate pokes inside me. I wish I didn't have to live here. Wish I earned enough to rent someplace of my own, but in reality I haven't got the guts to leave anyway. A lifetime spent in fear does that to you, wondering what she's going to say, how she's going to react. Whether the thorns are going to jab, jab, jab, drawing blood.
    "You won't be long, will you?” she snaps, waiting until I'm on the step above her before she shifts her arse downstairs. She waits at the bottom, back plastered to the wall, like me touching her as I brush past will taint her in some way.
    Damn, she's already tainted. Doesn't need any help from me.
    "Nope.” I walk out the door and inhale deeply, the fresh air like heaven compared to the cloying atmosphere indoors. She has the heating up so high I can't breathe sometimes. Maybe she's trying to kill me off.
    I laugh, a dry-sounding burst that pains my throat, and walk down the road, my mind on Ryan and whether he's going to text back. I could do with the company, the laughs he gives me, the way he has the ability to make me light up just by seeing his face. We're close, always have been, yet I haven't gone into too much detail about Mum. I'd feel like I'd betrayed her if I did, and it's strange I should feel like that when she doesn't give a shit how she makes me feel. Well, she does—she enjoys making me feel bad—but what kind of mother does that?
    I shove thoughts of her from my mind, walking with my head down and my hands in my jacket pockets. It's nippy, the autumn air cold on my ears and cheeks, and I wonder what she'll send me to the shop for when I get back. Oh yeah, she'll think of something while I'm out, and I'll obey and get what she