Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE MOTHER

Barbara Carter stood, open-mouthed, on her doorstep staring at her son. Tears formed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks before she had truly processed what she was seeing.

“My baby!” she cried throwing her arms around Evan’s neck and pulling him into a desperate hug. “What happened to you? Where have you been? Are you all right?”

“Mom,” Evan said, gently stepping back. “Can we come in? I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

“We?” Barbara peered behind Evan to where Hugo stood. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him. “Come on then, I’ll make some sweet tea, and you can tell me all about it.”

Evan’s mother was quick and clever. One look between the pair and she had a fair idea of what had transpired.

“You’ve been with him all this time?” she asked, setting down a tray of glasses on the small coffee table.

Her living room was quaint, well-kept, and filled with mismatched chairs, bookcases, and potted plants. Evan settled onto the couch, facing the armchair where his mother sat, while Hugo perched uneasily on a delicate wooden chair.

“I have.”

“And you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he replied guiltily.

Barbara reached behind her and grabbed a pillow. She hurled it at Evan causing him to slop cold tea down his front. “Why didn’t you call me? You just disappeared! I thought you were dead! The police told me…” She dissolved into tears.

Evan got up and knelt in front of her chair taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I never meant to worry you.”

“Worry?” She huffed. “I thought you were dead. Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

Evan glanced warily at Hugo, wondering if he would protest, but he remained impassive. “I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. A murder. The mafia are after me. Hugo—” he inclined his head towards him, “—has been hiding me. You can’t tell anyone that I’m alive, mom. Only you can know.”

“You’re lying. I know a mafioso when I see one. Look at him.” She jerked her head towards Hugo in clear disgust. “Sharp suit, handsome face. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“Smart woman,” was all Hugo said.

“He’s forcing you to do this, isn’t he?”

“It’s not like that, Mom. I love him and he loves me.”

Evan’s mother touched his face fondly as she leaned in close to whisper, “Men like him aren’t capable of it.”

“He loves me,” Evan said firmly. “He’s put his life on the line for me more times than I can count.”

“Would you be in danger if it wasn’t for him?”

“I should go,” Hugo said, getting smartly to his feet.

“No,” Evan said quickly. “Please stay.”

Hugo nodded and retook his seat.

“I wasn’t happy before.” He held his mother’s gaze willing her to understand. “I was missing something. I think that something was Hugo. It’s not perfect and it’s not easy, but he feels like home. I don’t know how to put it any other way.”

“No one falls in love with the mafia and comes out unscathed.”

“I’m trying to leave,” Hugo said, contributing fully for the first time. “My world is dangerous, but Evan is in it now. There’s no changing that. It’s not as simple as running away, not for me, but I love him, and I’d die for him.”

“He ever raised a hand to you?” Barbara asked as if Hugo hadn’t spoken. “Your father told pretty lies too. I was his queen. He’d die for me, but that never stopped him kicking me in the ribs when I spoke out of turn.”

Evan went cold as flashes from his childhood returned to him. “Never,” he said fervently. “He is nothing like Dad.” It was true. Hugo may have been a dangerous killer, but there wasn’t a single thing about him that reminded Evan of his father. Made men they both might have been, but they were worlds apart as people. His father was a selfish coward, Hugo was anything but.

“Time will tell, I guess.” She kissed Evan on the cheek and turned her attentions to Hugo. “You hurt him or get him hurt—I will come for you. I might be a little old lady, but I’m a mother. We are capable of anything when it comes to our children.”

“Duly noted.” Hugo nodded. Evan could tell he respected his mother. It was a start.

“Now,” Babara said brightly, as if she hadn’t just threatened one of the most dangerous men in the city. “You boys look skinny. I’ll fix some dinner.”