Ludlow’s ‘real’ son. The only thing I cared about was Hope. I only saw her white blonde hair being tangled up in the dirt. Her tiny face that reminded me of the porcelain dolls that lined the mantle in the living room. Her squeals that reminded me of the cat me and Joe found caught in the gate a few months ago. We’d nursed it back to health, but when Mrs. Ludlow found the stray, she snatched it up like it was trash and called Animal Control.
Tommy was the animal now, with his brand new Nikes pressed against Hope’s chest. Hurting her. Hurting a little girl like she was nothing at all.
Me and Joe flew at him in unison. He was twice our size. Taller. Fatter. And we didn’t give a flip.
We tackled him, arms flailing, missing more blows than we landed. Pain exploded all over my body as Tommy’s massive fists collided with my stomach. My cheek. My side. Joe was whooping like a warrior, every cuss word he knew flying from his bloodied lips.
“She’s just a little kid, you fucking asshole!”
“Stay away from Hope!” I screeched, like Tommy would listen.
“You’re a piece of shit!” Joe threw in for good measure.
I took Tommy’s jersey in my teeth when he jabbed me in the ribs and I didn’t let go until I felt the fabric rip. That made him stop clobbering me for a minute, his oversized nostrils flaring as he inspected the damage.
“This is an authentic jersey, you little-OUCH!”
Joe was wrapped around Tommy’s ankle and I glanced back and saw Hope. She’d scrambled over to a tree stump, her cheeks wet with tears. While her blue eyes were swollen and red, at least she wasn’t bleeding like us.
I turned back to the bully, ready to take the fist he hauled back. I knew I’d feel it for weeks, but it would be worth it...as long as he didn’t hurt Hope anymore. Didn’t turn her into one of the scared zombies that were cowering inside the house. I knew they could hear us, could hear Hope, but they probably just turned the volume up, too terrified to stand up to Tommy.
“What the hell is going on out here?!”
Tommy’s fist dropped immediately and he whirled towards the high pitched scream.
Mrs. Ludlow’s scream.
I laid on the ground a few more seconds, catching my breath. I’d never been so happy to be an adult, even if it was Mrs. Ludlow, in my whole life.
“Mom, I-” Tommy blustered, wiping his nose with the sleeve of the t-shirt he wore beneath his precious jersey.
I smirked to myself. It was a little less precious now. I focused on the taste of his jersey over the taste of blood.
Mrs. Ludlow was scrambling toward us in her wedge flip flops. I couldn’t play possum, though I had a feeling I was about to wish I could.
I accepted Joe’s hand up with a wince that he copied. I saw wounds all over his face. His left eye was already starting to swell shut and my right one was throbbing something fierce.
I held my jaw and faced off with Mrs. Ludlow. “He was hurting Hope-”
“Shut your filthy mouth!” She scowled, snapping her hand back like she wanted to strike him.
She didn’t even look at Hope. Hope hadn’t even moved from the stump, like she was afraid to. I couldn’t see her eyes anymore, but Mrs. Ludlow’s new toes were the same happy blue as Hope’s eyes. Well, the same color Hope’s eyes had been . When I brought my eyes from her feet to Mrs. Ludlow’s face, I realized that Mrs. Ludlow’s eyes were brighter than I’d ever noticed because they always seemed so cold when they were focused on me. Now, they were focused on her son and round with something that was even more unfamiliar to me: worry.
Mrs. Ludlow cradled her son’s barely touched face in her hands. Hitting him was like hitting a cement wall and I knew that even with Joe and I combined, we hadn’t left a dent.
“What did you rascals do to my baby?!” Mrs. Ludlow wailed.
I glanced at my best friend, but his eyes were too busy bulging from his skull.
“What did we do to him ? He was beating up Hope! We