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“Cmon dad, just let me stay over one more night…please!?!” Yev does his best puppy dog eyes while looking up at his father who just arrived to pick him up from his uncle’s house. “Sig wants to stay too! You’re miserable and pouty and we don’t like it!”
Mickey lets out a huff as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Kid, you’re overstaying your welcome, you haven’t been at our house since spring break started. Uncle Iggy and Clare gotta be sick of you by now!”
“You wouldn’t care this much if Ian wasn’t in Boston!” His son stomps his foot and scowls back at him. “You’d be TRYING to get rid of me! You shoulda just gone with him! Not my fault you didn’t go!”
Father and son stare at each other defiantly-neither willing to budge. Iggy takes the silence as an opportunity to intervene. “Aye, you two fuckers are so alike it’s scary! Mickey-he’s fine. One more night won’t be a problem. And you-“ he looks down at his nephew, “Stop being an asshole to your dad. He and I woulda killed to have an old man like him when we were kids!”
Annoyed and too stubborn to admit that Yev hurt his feelings, Mickey leaves his brother’s house alone. Yes, it sucks that he didn’t go to Boston with Ian but he’s never been on a goddamn plane and it’s fucking embarrassing to admit that the thought of getting on one scares the ever living shit out of him. But the kid was out of line saying that he’s always trying to get rid of him. It’s just not true. Sometimes he wants some alone time with Gallagher so he arranges sleepovers at Iggy’s or with Liam for his son but never once has he tried to get rid of him. He’s given up so much for that little shit and then he has the balls to speak to him like that.
If only the kid knew just how much he had to fight for him to have a normal life. He never wanted to be a dad but now he can’t imagine his life without the ungrateful little fucker. Lighting his cigarette, he turns back towards his family’s house on S. Trumbull. It’s crazy to think how Iggy and his new girlfriend have made the old place livable again. It’s a wonder he can even set foot in it after all the shit that went down in there.
He shudders thinking of the night Svetlana was called in by Terry. One month later he was married to the whore and forced to sleep next to her in his bed. He’d get as close to the edge of the mattress as possible because smell of her perfume made his stomach turn. As her belly got larger his sense of impending doom grew with it.
Before he knows it, Mandy is screaming at him to go see his wife and newborn son in the hospital. His sister has no idea about what Terry had ordered to be done to him nine months earlier, so to her he looks like a deadbeat asshole ignoring the mother of his child. A typical Milkovich scumbag man, not a traumatized teen who feels nauseous at the thought of seeing the result of that horrific night.
Instead of going to the hospital he drinks a forty and smokes countless joints in an abandoned warehouse down by the yards that he escaped to whenever things felt like too much. He shivers sitting all alone leaning against the crumbling concrete wall. His mind races with thoughts of how to get as far away from Chicago as possible but deep down he knows there will be no escape for him. He shoots at empties lined up on a broken window’s sill across the room to get out some of the nervous energy that runs through his veins.
The burner phone in his pocket rings over and over again. The first few times he ignores it and continues to aim his gun at the bottles. Once all of them lay in shattered shards on the dirty floor he finally digs the phone out of his coat pocket. It’s Mandy. Grimacing, he accepts the call but says nothing.
“Ass face, where the fuck are you?” She growls.
He sighs and pushes the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Whaddya want douchebag?”
“Your son is home now. Don’t you even give half a shit?”
“Not really,” he replies, feeling the bile rise up his throat. “What the fuck do you care about it?”
He can hear something wailing in the background. The piercing sound makes his chest ache. Of course the damn little thing would be mouthy as hell.
“Mickey-“ His sister’s voice sounds desperate. “I know Svetlana can be a bitch and you guys are fucked up but that’s not his fault. He didn’t ask for this shit either, you know. Just like we didn’t when we came into this messed up world. What would mom think of you right now?”
Well shit, that stung. It was a pretty low blow for Mandy to bring up their mom, the one person that ever showed any of the kids in that hellhole of a house any semblance of love or kindness. The baby continues to screech inconsolably.
“That piece of shit husband?” Svetlana’s shrill voice yells over the child’s cries. “You tell him to come home now! Our Lisichka needs his father! He also needs diapers and real crib!”
“Shut the fuck up, Svet! You screaming like that ain’t gonna make him come here! And the kid’s got a bassinet so he’s fine for now. Jesus!” His sister shrieks back.
Mickey bites his lip. He can steal some diapers but where the fuck is he supposed to get a goddamn crib? He runs his hand down his face. “I’m on my way, Mands. Fuck my life.”
**
Mickey ends up staring at the shelves in the baby aisle of Walgreens for way too long. He knows fuck all about diapers. Who knew there were this many brands-Pampers, Huggies, fucking Hello Bello? It would also help to actually know what size he needs to steal. He shifts on his feet and scratches at his nose with his thumb.
“You need help sugar? You look overwhelmed.” A soft voice shakes him from his thoughts. He looks beside him and finds an older woman with dark skin and kind eyes smiling at him.
Since when is he fucking approachable to old ladies? He bites his lip and shrugs. “I gotta get diapers cause the kid keeps screaming. Haven’t seen it yet so I know fuck all about what size.”
“Is it a newborn? Boy or girl? I take it you’re the father?”
Mickey nods. “Uh, yeah. A boy…just got home from the hospital. His name is fucking Lisichka? Poor bastard got named by his Russian whore mom. Gotta find a crib too I guess.” Why is he telling this old broad his whole life story?
The woman picks up something called Swaddlers and holds them up. “I think size 1 would be a safe bet, they’re for babies between 8-14 pounds. And…” She hands the diapers to Mickey. “If he’s screaming he could have a rash. I’d get this cream just in case. You need to lather it all over his little bottom.”
“Uh, ok?” He takes the cream from her too.
“Do you have any money on you? Be honest.” The woman sighs and puts her hands on her hips. “I know what it’s like to be young and all of a sudden have another mouth to feed. That shit ain’t easy.”
Mickey scoffs. “Look lady, that ain’t none of your business. I’m fine. Got it covered.” He shoves the diapers and cream under his coat and smirks at her.
“Oh yeah sure. Big tough guy all of a sudden. I had my Marty when I was young too. Thought I could steal and cheat to get by. I learned the hard way. They’ll throw your ass in jail whether you’re stealing cigarettes or Pampers. I struggled for a while, that was until I found Jesus!” With that the woman steps forward and wrestles the diapers and cream away from Mickey.
He stares at her in disbelief as she struts up the aisle, grabs a few little baby clothe things with footies, and heads to the registers at the front of the store. She motions for him to join her. Not sure what else to do, he obeys and stands slightly behind her, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. The cashier glares at him and says to the woman, “Carol, you know you’re buying all this stuff for a Milkovich, right? You’re supporting them multiplying like sewer rats.”
“Damn straight I do. God loves all his creatures, especially the fucked up ones. Praise be to He and wrap this shit up!”
**
When Mickey gets home he’s met with chaos. Svetlana is pacing around the living room screaming Russian nonsense into her phone while Terry and his brothers are cleaning guns at the kitchen table. Meanwhile the sounds of endless wailing are coming from some little white baby bucket thing in the corner. He stands in the doorway contemplating dropping off the baby shit and running as far as he can.
“Assface! You’re here!” Mandy approaches him and takes the bag from his hands. She turns towards the Russian pacing around the room and yells. “Mickey’s home AND he brought the baby what he needs you dumb whore!”
Svetlana snarls at him as she grabs the bag from his sister. “WOW, Misha actually acting like a man? Hell must be very cold today!”
“Is that it over there in that white thing?” He hesitantly motions towards the sound of crying.
“That is HIM not IT!” The Russian walks over to the corner and picks up the baby. She turns towards Mickey. “This is your son. Don’t you even want to know his name?”
He gulps and takes a step back. “I thought it…his name is Lisichka?”
Sventlana laughs at him. “You really a stupid little man. Lisichka mean little fox. It is what I call him to be cute, he is my little fox. His name is Yevgeny!”
“You named him after your piece of shit father? The one who sold you to a pimp for 200 bucks? You name your kid after him?” Mickey shakes his head in disbelief. Poor little bastard made the way he was and having two fucked up parents was bad enough; then add a weird ass name inspired by a Russian asshole who pimped out his own daughter to it all. The kid is already fucked and he’s not even a week old.
Svetlana sighs and takes another step towards him. “It was $300 and he had good qualities too. You need to hold baby.”
She pushes his son closer to him. He glances down. The kid is squirming and crying. His face is all red and scrunched up. Mickey’s heart aches when he actually looks at the kid. Fuck. That’s probably how he looked when his fourteen year old mom was clueless about what to do for him in this exact living room. He looks away, swallows and whispers, “No.”
“You are horrible person and father!” She hisses at him and storms away with the baby.
**
It doesn’t get any easier acknowledging his son. The kid has a set of lungs on him and cries constantly. It’s difficult to sleep with all the noise and stress of it all. Mandy helps out when Svetlana has to meet up with Johns and work for Terry at the Rub & Tug but his sister seems to be hell bent on him connecting with his son. She won’t let it go no matter how much he fights it.
The day of the kid’s christening is when he can’t take her nagging anymore and lets something slip. Mandy is holding Yevgeny at the back of the church when Mickey arrives. He almost didn’t show up but the bitch had incessantly called his phone to make sure he was in attendance.
“Are you drunk at your own baby’s baptism Assface?” His sister growls at him as she rocks the baby in her arms.
He turns to face her and motions towards the altar where Terry and Svetlana appear to be threatening the priest. “Far from drunk but needed to throw a few back to face this bullshit! God that is so sick. Those two are probably banging. Bonded over their hate for me.”
The thought of those two so close makes his skin crawl. As if on cue the baby starts fussing in his sister’s arms. Suddenly Mickey feels like the walls are closing in on him. It’s taking every bit of what’s left of his strength to not just book it the fuck out of there.
“Mickey, are you okay? What the hell is going on with you? Something hasn’t been right for a long time. You were always kind of a prick but more of a lovable asshole and never this skittish,” Mandy pries stepping towards him, eyes filled with concern.
He shakes his head and backs himself against the wall, glancing down at the wiggling infant in her arms and then quickly averting his eyes. “Don’t…” He holds his hands up. “I know it ain’t his fault but…I fucking can’t, okay? That night Dad called her in and I didn’t want to but…”
It’s as if all the pieces come together in his sister’s head at the same time. She takes in her brother’s grief-stricken face and then looks towards the front of the church right as Terry glares at his youngest son and mouths the word “pussy” in his direction.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Holy shit, Mickey. What the hell? Dad did that to you? What the fuck? Oh my God!”
“Mandy…please…it’s fucking fine, ok?” He pleads with her to stop talking about it. It’s better to just ignore it, pretend he’s not such a goddamn disgusting disaster.
She hugs the baby closer to her chest. “No wonder you can’t even look at the poor little guy! This isn’t your fault but it’s not his either. Mickey, fuck those two! We can’t let them fuck him up too! I’m gonna help you guys, I promise. I’m gonna-“
“It’s time to start! We need baby!” Svetlana yells towards them, interrupting his sister’s pleas.
Mandy glares at her father and the woman he’s been using as an instrument of control over her brother. She steps towards Mickey. “I know it’s hard but you need to take him from me and carry him down there. I don’t want Terry near him. You can do this. I’ll be here the whole time. I promise.”
Feeling ill, he takes the baby in his arms. He’s wrapped in a large, lacey blanket thing and wiggling like crazy. Weirdly, the closer he holds the little guy against his chest, the calmer the kid seems to get. His heart is beating out of his chest as he walks towards the altar. He feels his sister squeeze his shoulder as he walks up the steps towards the marble pillar with the giant bowl of water on it.
The priest takes the baby in his hands and starts reciting some stuff. Heart racing and palms sweating Mickey looks over and sees that Mandy is still right by his side. She nods at him and then motions towards the kid who is being held over the basin.
The baby seems pissed as water gets poured on him. He lets out a few loud cries and is shaking. Mickey can’t help but blame him. The priest announces, “Through this baptism Yevgeny is cleansed from sin…to a new birth…to innocence.”
Shit. Poor fucking kid. Did this whole magic act cleanse him from how he was made? From the horrors that Terry caused that morning? For the first time he really looks at his son. He’s so small and fragile. Mandy’s right. Little guy didn’t ask for any of this. How would the kid feel if he knew that he came into this world in such a violent, depraved way? He can never know. Mickey’s going to make sure of it.
He looks across the basin and sees that Svetlana is watching her son’s baptism with tears in her eyes. She looks up and meets his stare for just a second, grimaces, and then promptly turns her attention back to the child who the priest just returned to Mickey’s arms. For the first time, he bends down and gently kisses the top of his son’s head and looks into the big blue eyes that are exactly like his own.
**
That moment at the end of Yevgeny’s christening seems to be a turning point in how Mickey and Svetlana treat each other. They’re far from friends but they seem to make a kind of truce to both look out for the kid. They’ll tolerate each other for his sake, both agreeing that the baby didn’t have a choice when he ended up with the two of them for parents. In fact, the three of them had literally no choice in the matter; something that took Mickey some time to understand. The young mother didn’t have a say in Terry’s cruelty that night or after-she had been a pawn as well. Mandy had helped him see that.
As the kid’s first birthday approaches things are actually okay for the first time in a while. During the day Svetlana watches Yev while Mickey does collection runs for Terry. At night either Mickey, Mandy, or Iggy take care of the kid. It’s surprising to see how much his older brother enjoys helping out with his nephew. The four of them have an unspoken agreement to never let the baby be alone with or too close to Terry.
Mickey comes home one day with bruised knuckles and a black eye after a particularly difficult collection and can hear excited oohs and aahs the minute he walks in the front door. He finds Iggy, Mandy, and Svet sitting in a circle in the living room floor with Yev crawling in the middle laughing his little head off. His brother looks up at him with wide eyes. “Bro…we think he’s gonna walk! He keeps standing and then falling back on his ass and cracking himself up! It’s so fucking cool!” He reaches up and pulls Mickey down into the circle. “Check it out!”
Yevgeny notices that his father has joined in on the fun and lets out a satisfied coo. He rolls over onto his back and starts clapping and kicking his feet. Svetlana hands Mickey a stuffed toy and purrs, “Come on my Lisichka. You can! You can! Look! Daddy has fox! Go get!”
Mickey smiles at his son and holds out the fox. Mandy reaches over and helps the little one sit up, which results in even more giggles. The kid latches onto his aunt’s hands and pulls himself up on wobbly legs which results in a chorus of gasps.
“Holy shit! It’s gonna happen!” Iggy exclaims. “This kid is fucking tough! A real bruiser. You’ve got this Yevvy! Go to papa!”
Mickey continues to hold out the little fox and locks eyes with his son. Yev looks at his father with determination as he grips the floor with his chubby feet. Slowly Mandy lets go of his hands and the kid staggers forward, one step, then two, before he falls into his father’s outstretched arms.
They all erupt in laughter and celebration. Mickey falls backwards hugging his little son to his chest and peppering the top of his head with kisses. The kid is giggling hysterically as he grips the little stuffed fox.
“Well, ain’t this a perfect little fucked up family moment,” Terry’s voice grumbles from the doorway behind them.
They all fall silent, the tension growing the moment the Milkovich patriarch entered the room. Mickey sits up and holds Yevgeny even tighter, in an attempt to shield the child from the monster’s arrival. Iggy looks down at the floor while Mandy sits in silence. Svetlana is the only one who defiantly stares back at the man as she edges closer to her son to help protect him from his horrible grandfather.
“What are you looking at whore?” The older man hisses. “Get yourself fixed up. I’ve got a job for you tonight. Earn me some money doing the only thing you’re good at.”
Knowing she can’t argue with her pimp, she sighs as she stands and then makes her way to the bedroom to change. Terry delights in this control and smiles menacingly as he lights a cigarette. He turns his attention to Iggy. “Hey retard, get up. Why you sitting on your ass doing nothing? Go pick up some meth from your uncle and don’t come back until you’ve sold it all. This ain’t a goddamn nursery school. Go on…get!”
Iggy also complies and quickly does as he’s told. Without a word to his sister or brother, he rushes over to the front door, grabs his coat, and leaves. Terry now looks down at Mandy. “Get the fuck out of here while I’m in a good mood. Make yourself scarce; I need to talk to your faggot brother alone.”
She opens her mouth to fight back but Mickey reaches for her knee. “Mands, go. It’s ok. Just please take Yev with you and just get the fuck out of here.”
“Nope. I wanna see the little shit!” Their father growls and then blows smoke in the kid’s direction. “He’s gettin’ too big to be treated like a little homo. Look at him hugging a fucking stuffed animal like a little girl! Gotta start learning about what it means to be a Milkovich man and your pansy ass ain’t capable of that so I’m taking over now. Been thinking about what we’ll tat on his knuckles for his tenth birthday!” He saunters over to the kitchen table and starts scribbling on a piece of paper. While he does this, Mickey hands Mandy his son and mouths, “Run.”
Without hesitation, his sister takes off towards the front door while cradling Yev in her arms. Mickey jumps up and storms towards his father. He gets in one punch before Terry unleashes utter hell on him. He cries out in pain as his ribs crack under his father’s boot. Right before he blacks out he lets out a labored sigh of relief when he realizes Mandy had made it safely out the door with his son.
**
When he comes to, he’s all alone lying on the kitchen floor. The sun is shining through the broken blinds so he must’ve been out all night. Everything hurts when he tries to move.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he licks his blood caked lower lip.
Suddenly he feels someone pulling him up. He opens his eyes again, not even realizing that he had closed them. Did he black out again? He sees Svetlana staring down at him, her face stern with last night’s makeup streaking down her cheeks. She sits him up against the lower cabinets and shuffles over to the freezer.
Bending down over him again, she gently pushes a bag of frozen peas onto his forehead and sighs. “You piece of shit husband but not too bad father. You did good getting Yevgeny the fuck out of here last night. Your father is a terrible man. Look.”
She holds up the paper Terry had been scribbling on when Mickey had distracted him to ensure Mandy and Yevgeny’s escape. It says “FAG-BASH.” He can feel bile rising up his throat. This is what Terry is planning on tattooing on poor Yevgeny’s knuckles for his tenth birthday. The sick bastard.
“Misha-“ Svetlana’s lip trembles. “Our little boy cannot come back to this house.” She motions to his knuckles. “You get yours when you were ten?”
He grimaces, thinking about being held down by his brothers while he desperately tried to fight back. He had seen tears in Iggy’s eyes because he hadn’t wanted to do this to him but no one was allowed to question Terry. Ever. He bites his lip. “No…twelve.” He lets out a long breath. “You hear from Mandy? Where does she have the kid? Where’s Terry?”
“No but I bet she has him hidden good. She is bitch but smart. Happy she is bitch right now to keep our Lisichka safe.” She looks over her shoulder. “Terry take me to party. After men take me upstairs he leave. I check house when I come home. He not here. Thank God.”
He gathers himself enough to stand. He’s in pain but the kid needs him. “I’ll call her.”
Suddenly the front door bursts open and Terry comes straight for them. Mickey stands up straighter, ready to take the impact, but it’s Svetlana the horrible man wants. He grabs her by the back of her hair and snarls, “Who said you could leave the party slut? You’re going back! They weren’t done with you.”
As she’s being dragged away she yells to Mickey, “Keep my baby safe! Tell him mama loves him!”
**
A week goes by and it’s as if Svetlana has disappeared into thin air. Terry has also made himself scarce but Mickey is not about to let his guard down. There’s no way in hell his kid is ever coming back to this place if his piece of shit grandfather is seeing the light of day. Mandy has him over her current fling’s house. Apparently the place is crawling with kids so she has everything Yevgeny needs at the moment. It’s killing Mickey to not see the little blond bastard but he, Mandy, and Iggy decided it was best that she keep his location even a secret from them in case Terry comes back and uses some of his more heinous methods to get the information out of his sons.
“Mick, you think Svetlana’s dead?” Iggy finally asks him as they’re packing up his and Yevgeny’s things into trash bags.
They know that soon enough Mandy will overstay her and the kid’s welcome at her fuck buddy’s house so they’re going to try and find somewhere else for him and Mickey to live where Terry can’t get his hands on either of them. Mickey shrugs and looks at his brother. “I don’t know. The old man dragged her out of here on a fucking rampage. She’s a bitch but she loves the kid. Don’t think she’d run off without him.”
They continue to pack in silence. Mickey can’t help but feel an impending sense of doom. More likely than not, Terry did something horrible to the Russian. She made the mistake of standing up to him for their son-something he was too chicken shit to do himself. He feels sick as he sees her belongings laying around, not moved or touched since she was dragged out of the house by her hair. He’s been making a conscious effort to not look at her things because they make him think about how shitty he had been to her all through her pregnancy with Yev. Sure, what happened fucked him up but she was just a kid when that shit went down too.
“Hey…what’s this?” Iggy holds up an envelope that had been tucked into the very bottom of her diaper bag. He hands it to his brother. “It has your name on it.”
Mickey stares at the curvy handwriting on the envelope. It’s definitely Svetlana’s. He looks up at his brother who nods at him. “Stop staring at it and open it up fuckwad.”
He shudders as he rips it open. In it he finds a large stack of money and a note. It reads:
Misha-
I write this because I know Terry is going to act soon. He is mad you and I have made truce for our Yevgeny. He may send me back to Russia or end me all together. I save anything I can for our Lisichka. All of it is here. Get away from him. Take our son and use to get place and start new.
You know he must be in jail for our boy to have chance in life. Chance you, me, Mandy, and Iggy never have. Get him in jail and do not look back. Do what you have to for Yevgeny.
You shit husband but it because I have wrong parts. I know this. Put old fuck in jail. Fast. I did my best. Now it is on you. Step up and do this for Yevgeny’s future.
And to my Lisichka-show him this when he is big boy and can understand. Tell him mama love him and always will. I am always with him. Hug the little fox to remember mama.
With love to my baby boy,
Svetlana
“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes. “She’s gone.”
**
Iggy and Mickey waste no time finding a place with Svetlana’s money. It’s just at the edge of the Southside in a neighborhood where Terry doesn’t have as much power. The landlady, Georgia, is an elderly woman who gladly takes the cash and grants the young father tenant at will status when she hears he needs a place for him and his soon to be one year old son to start over. It’s a small studio but it’s partially furnished since the last tenant had to leave in a hurry. It isn’t much, but it’s a start.
The whole time the brothers stay in touch with Mandy. When she gets the news about Svetlana she does something rare-she actually cries. She holds Yev close as she whispers, “She was a crazy bitch but she loved her son. Terry’s gotta pay for this.”
The Milkovich patriarch shows his face again a few days later. Iggy and Mickey have stayed at the house on S. Trumbull so as to not tip off their old man. The bastard bursts in smug as ever and chides at his sons as they sit on the couch pretending to watch tv. “Oh look who’s waiting around for the next handout-dumb and dumber. Bet you two fuck ups missed me!” He looks around. “Where’s my grandson?”
“Fuck all if I know! Haven’t seen him since you left with the Russian handwhore,” Mickey bites back.
Iggy forces himself to laugh to keep up appearances. Terry glares at his sons. “Well, she’s not coming back so he ain’t with her. Where’s your slut of a sister?”
Mickey grinds his teeth to make sure he doesn’t take the bait. “Don’t keep tabs on her either. Probably out fucking someone.”
“Fuck you both! I just made a shit ton of money so I’m gonna get drunk. Iggy, you’re coming with me. You’re spending too much time with your fairy brother.”
Iggy obediently pops up off the couch. “You got it, pops! Don’t worry, the fagginess ain’t rubbed off on me!”
As the two leave him alone in the house, Mickey smirks. The plan is going off without a hitch.
About an hour later, Mickey’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Iggy has texted him that the old bastard is already three sheets to the wind at the Alibi Room. It’s game time.
When he arrives at the local dive bar he pretends to have no idea his father is sitting at a back corner table with Iggy. As he takes a seat and orders a shot of whiskey he says a silent prayer that this will work. Hopefully Svetlana is looking over on this shitshow and is pulling some strings to make sure the old homophobe takes the bait.
He shoots back the burning liquid in one gulp, slams the glass onto the bar top, and demands, “Again!”
The bartender, he thinks the tall fucker’s name is Kev, swiftly pours him another. “There a reason you’re not sitting with your old man and brother?”
This fucking guy. Dumb as a pile of rocks. Mickey shakes his head. “Mention it again and I’ll punch you so hard in the mouth your teeth will go to the back of your throat.”
The guy puts his hands up and backs away in surrender. Mickey swallows his second shot down and glances to his left and sees a thin guy in his thirties sitting next to him. Not bad looking. This guy’ll do. He can feel Terry’s eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. It’s showtime.
He pushes his stool closer to his neighbor, puts his hand on the small of the guy’s back, and whispers in his ear. “Hey. Sorry about this. As soon as you hear the slurs fucking run for it. If you get your ass beat it’s only ‘cause you’re slow, not on me.”
“You fucking AIDS monkey! How dare you!” Terry really is so predictable.
Mickey jumps down from the stool and sees Terry storming towards him. The asshole is practically foaming at the mouth as he continues his rant. “No son of mine is gonna flaunt this faggot bullshit in MY neighborhood! You’re fucking dead!”
Right as his father makes it to him, Mickey punches him in the nose and revels in the satisfying crack when his fist meets his old man’s brittle bone. Utter mayhem ensues since the Alibi Room is the type of place where its patrons are always up for a good brawl. He can’t help but smile when he hears the bartender yell, “Hello, 911!?” into the phone.
It cost him a concussion and a night in jail but the following afternoon when Mandy brings his son to their new home for the first time it makes it all worth it. Terry had been tricked into breaking his parole and was swiftly sent back to the Pen so the kid was safe. As he places Yevgeny clutching his little red fox down into the pack and play his landlady had somehow scrounged up for him he softly whispers “Welcome home, son.”
**
Now here he is in a different building he calls home. It’s owned by Georgia’s daughter and the two bedroom he shares with Yev is definitely an upgrade from that original studio. He’s half-watching some superhero bullshit show missing his son and Ian. There’s a knock at the door.
He pauses the show and makes his way to the front door. He finds Yev, Iggy, and Sig on the other side. His brother is holding a six pack of Old Style and Yev has a pizza box. The pitbull barks and scurries past him to his dogbed in the corner.
“Hey dad, Uncle Iggy said I was being a dickhead to you so we brought over a pizza,” the kid mumbles.
Mickey raises his eyebrows at his son and steps aside to let them in. “Yeah you were but you’re here now kiddo. Let’s eat!”
The boy takes off his backpack and plops it on the living room floor. His father can’t help but smile when he sees the worn little fox head sticking out of the top. “I didn’t know you brought Sichka over Iggy’s with you, Yev.”
His son calls over his shoulder. “I didn’t! I left him there last time by mistake! I’m too big for stuffies now!”
Iggy and he lock eyes. His brother shakes his head and mouths, “Bullshit.”
After they eat their pizza the Iggy and Yev settle onto the couch in the living room. Mickey makes a quick stop into his bedroom and comes out holding an envelope. He nods at Iggy as he sits. “Yev, I noticed you said you’re too big for your fox stuffie now. You’ve had it since you were a baby. You know your mom gave you that, right?”
“Yeah,” his son replies. “Why?”
“Well, I think you’re big enough for me to share something special but sort of difficult with you now. When all that shit went down with Ian and you thinking you had to leave your class you said that no one wants you, not even your mom.” He pauses to gather himself before he continues. “That broke me, bud. I love you. Your mom loved you, I don’t ever want you to forget that. Think you’re ready for this?” He holds up the envelope.
Yevgeny nods. “What is it?”
“Why don’t you go get Sichka and bring him over here. I want to read this to both of you.”