Part Four: Milkoviches Don't Share

That fucking towel-head thinks he can just touch Gallagher whenever he feels like it. He's old and married and disgusting. His hands were all over the little red head like he fucking owned him. He wouldn't stop touching him. It makes me sick thinking about it.

"Mandy!" I shout.

I can't even play my stupid game properly. I get blown up every time from not concentrating and turn off the X-Box.

"What do you want, ass-face?" Mandy asks plopping down on the other end of the couch.

"How long has your boyfriend been fucking his manager?"

"You know about that? So I guess you know Ian's not really my boyfriend."

"Yeah, no shit. Answer my question."

"I don't know how long they've been fucking. Why don't you ask him if you want to know so badly? Why do you care anyway?"

"Because I shop there, I don't want to watch some creepy perv touch a teenage boy in front of me while I shop."

"You mean steal."

"You know what I fucking mean, bitch."

Mandy glares at me. She looks like mom when she does that. I cringe. At least she doesn't fucking look like Terry.

"This really bothers you doesn't it," Mandy asks, "Look. If it's a problem for you then talk to Ian. He can ask Kash not to touch him while you're there."

"How the fuck does this not bother you?" I'm standing up now. Why the fuck am I standing up?

"Why should it?"

"Milkoviches don't fucking share, or did you forget that? We hold on to what is ours. We don't share."

I'm almost shouting at her. Get a fucking grip. I leave before I lose it. In my bedroom I turn on loud music and lie down on my back across my twin bed. I glance at poster of a naked woman on my wall and Gallagher pops into my head uninvited. That's the last place I want him to be.

I go by the store as soon as I can. Gallagher is there but towel-head isn't. I ask for Slim Jims. Gallagher locks the door behind the last customer out and we head to the storage room. We don't speak during the sex. I just let myself go. What he does to me makes my eyes water, but I try not to think about it.

"So why'd you come by?" Ian asks as we put our clothes back on.

"I was gonna talk to towel-head douche about keeping his fucking hands to his fucking self. I don't want to come in here and find him molesting some underage kid."

"Really, he wasn't molesting me. We were together."

I twitch.

"It's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"Fuck." I scratch my head and try not look at him. I don't want to see that dumb smile of his. I throw my scarf around my neck and head for the door. Gallagher follows me like a puppy.

"So this was like a booty call."

"Whatever. See ya."

Fuck. Fuck. I wander up and down the street by Kash 'N' Grab three times, considering going back in. Gallagher is stocking shelves and wearing a stupid fucking smile. Fuck.

"Mickey," says Frank Gallagher. I roll my eyes.

"Fuck off, Frank."

"Have you seen my ungrateful little progeny?"

"What the fuck is that?"

"My son," says Frank, who is stumbling.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Got any money?"

I turn around on the spot.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Frank," I say.

"Got any drugs?"

No fucking wonder Gallagher hates this guy.

"Fuck off, Frank."

I walk off before he can follow me. Maybe he will crawl back into whatever shithole he came out of and die there.

Ian's being touched that faggot store manager of his. Fuck. I turn around. Frank is still heading toward Kash 'N' Grab. "Frank, I will give you ten dollars if you go into Kash 'N' Grab and ask that fucking towel-head to come out here."

I hand Frank the cash and he heads inside. True to his word he sends Kash out. But my little puppy—I mean Gallagher—is following him loyally. I forgot to say to send him out ALONE.

"What do you want, Mickey?" Kash asks.

I look at Gallagher. He's smiling at me as if I had just given him the fucking sun. I couldn't look at him.

"Ian, go inside and make sure Frank doesn't shoplift," says Kash.

"But," Ian says.

"Do it."

"Don't fucking tell him what to do," I say when Gallagher has gone inside.

"I'm his boss."

"Do you fuck all the little boys that come to work for you or just that one?"

Kash doesn't speak. I get in his face.

"I don't want any trouble, Mickey."

"That's right you fucking don't. From now on, I take what I fucking want in your shithole of a store or I'm telling Officer Tony that you fuck underage boys."

"Ian will never press charges."

"No, but Fiona might."

That got his attention. Kash agrees to my terms.

"Oh, and you'd best keep your hands off."

"That wasn't part of our agreement."

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"Damn it, Frank," Gallagher yells from the door. Frank emerges from the store with his arms loaded with shit. Gallagher looks at me.

"I'm calling the police," says Kash. He walks past me into the store. Gallagher comes over without his jacket on.

"What did Kash say?"

"He's not going to fucking touch you."

"He can't touch me. Not until Linda gets pregnant. She caught us. Well we were on camera. You know the camera she put in to catch you shoplifting. Yeah, she's surprisingly not pissed about it, but Kash can't touch me until she's knocked up."

This is fucking news to me. I just did all that shit for no reason. Why the fuck did I leave the house?

"Well now after he is allowed to touch you, he won't."

"What if I want him to touch me?"

What the fuck is he doing? Baiting me? Not going to fucking happen, carrot-top.