Текст книги "Run"

Автор книги: Holly Hood

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

I sat down next to him.

“Stop. I think we should get a motel and call it a day okay?”

“What do you think is better?” he asked, ignoring me, downing the last of the bottle. He tossed it out in front of him where it shattered. “Jail or death?”

“Mason, please don’t do this,” I begged, bringing my hands to my ears. Now I was freaking out.

“Because right now, Kendall, I have yet to figure that one out. But I do know one thing.” He held up a shaky finger.

“What’s that?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“I know that I’ve always loved you.” He kissed me on the cheek, practically falling over.

JULY 23

RD

I SAT IN OUR BED at the Hotel 7. Yes, that was the name of the hotel. How original. It was nearing the evening and we had only left the room long enough to get another bottle of liquor for Mason’s sudden insatiable thirst for anything that could numb his anxiety and depression.

I knew he couldn’t handle it. At first I thought he was happy to be back. But it became obvious very quickly that Gusby reminded him of all that was bad in his life.

I tried to convince him to call Jay. I was sure he would send back the jet and get us out of Gusby, but Mason said no. He said the only way that would happen was if I left on the jet without him.

Mason kissed my bare shoulder. Soon we were lost in sex… passionate sex…nothing I’d ever felt between the two of us.

“One more time?” Mason asked, bringing me down on the bed gently. He kissed my neck and ran a hand through my hair.

The glow from the lamp made him look like a dream of sorts. He was drunk and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot as he stared down at me. He smiled, enjoying my state of undress. It was natural to be so exposed around Mason.

He touched me, tracing his fingers from between my breasts down to my navel.

“Yes, please,” I said with a coy smile. I kissed his lips, his tongue toyed with my bottom lip and then met up with mine. I pulled at his hair as he climbed on top of me. I could always be free with Mason, always. Everything between us was natural. We were perfect together.

He smiled down at me. I smiled back, closing my eyes at the feel of him so close and gentle. This was what making love was all about—another first.

We collapsed, falling back on the bed. I rubbed a tender spot on my lower back. I regretted letting him pin me against the wall as things went from gentle to out of control.

“You thirsty? I have whiskey,” Mason said, handing me the bottle.

I scrunched my nose and checked the time. Hours had passed quickly without either of us even noticing.

We’d been too busy humping like wild animals all day.

“I need water before I die of dehydration, and so do you. You can’t survive on booze,” I said, kissing his shoulder as he stared at the bottle in his hands.

“I think there’s water somewhere in here.” He laughed, shaking the whiskey around in the bottle.

I smiled at him and realized he was better looking than I’d ever given him credit for.

“There is not any water in that whiskey.” I sat up looking for my shirt.

“One more time?” he asked, touching my breast with his warm hands. He did his best to coax me back under the covers.

“Mason, have you lost your mind?” I asked. I was shocked by his relentless stamina.

“I don’t want to miss an opportunity to be with you,” Mason said. He planted a gentle kiss on my lips, giving up. “I’ll run to the store and get you some Gatorade and water. Maybe even a PowerBar. But when I get back, I want you naked and ready for round two.” He jumped into his pants.

“Try round four,” I corrected him, crawling under the covers alone.

Mason threw on his shirt. “The only place in Gusby that got a facelift was the bank. Pretty fancy for a bunch of hillbillies that hide their money in their mattresses, right?” He stared off, lost in thought.

“Mason, you’re a nut. Now go get me some water please,” I said, shooing him away.

“Yeah, sure. I love you,” he said. The words came out so naturally, as if he’d been saying it all his life.

I didn’t waste any time falling asleep after Mason left. My last memory was of his smiling face. I tried to not think about Mason’s breakdown. It scared me to think he was crumbling.

***

I woke up to the alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed. I sat up and turned it off. I hadn’t set an alarm—maybe the previous guests had.

I threw the covers off, dropping my feet to the floor. I froze in a panic when I realized what time it was. There was no way the clock could be right. That would mean Mason had been gone for hours now.

“Where the hell are you, Mason Vaughn?” I said out loud, running around the room collecting my clothes from the floor.

This wasn’t good. This could have meant so many things. The first being he could have been caught. I couldn’t breathe. I stuffed my feet in my sneakers and grabbed the key, running out the door, hoping I wasn’t too late.

“I am going to kill him,” I muttered walking down the sidewalk. I passed by a small clothing store—the only clothing store in Gusby that offered anything even close to fashionable.

I hurried, quickly scanning my surroundings looking for Mason.

“Oh. My. God,” someone said from behind me.

I froze in place, fearing I’d been recognized. I spun around to see my cousins, Maxton and Tiger Jade. They looked no different from the last time I’d seen them other than just being older.

I didn’t know what to say. They stared at me, amazed, like they’d seen a ghost. I hoped they didn’t know who I was. Tiger pushed her hair from her shoulder.

“Kendall?” she asked.

She touched my shoulder looking me over. Maxton followed suit. “I can’t believe it,” she said.

“I’d never forget your face,” Tiger said, offering a smile. “I still remember the last time I saw you. We went for ice cream, remember?” She raised a questioning brow.

I still hadn’t said anything.

We were never that close and I was shocked they remembered me after all these years.

“It’s me, hello,” I stumbled, letting out a defeated sigh. It was only a matter of time before someone knew who I was.

“You came back. That’s amazing. Are you here to see her?” she asked, eying me.

Where had they thought I’d gone? I wished I could ask them but I didn’t have the time. I shrugged, not sure who she was referring to, but I could only guess they were talking about my mother.

“I’d love to catch up, but I’m trying to find someone,” I said apologetically.

Tiger slapped me in the arm, her eyes wide. “You’re trying to find Mason, right? We knew that was him.”

Maxton agreed, letting out a giggle. I was relieved someone knew where he was.

“Do you remember where you saw him?” I asked. I was in a hurry to find him.

“Down at The Shed. I wanted to have a drink, but Maxton didn’t. I convinced her though. So we went in and there he was. I was like holy shit balls is that guy in the corner Mason Vaughn? Maxton told me I was crazy, but I knew it. I don’t think I ever forget a face,” Tiger said excitedly, going on and on like we were old pals.

Maxton shot me an all-knowing look. She hit Tiger with her purse, making her shut up.

“She just said she was looking for him, Tiger. Now shut it and let’s go see Gran. Bye, Kendall. Stop by and see us again before you leave.”

Maxton and Tiger waved. I waved back before I took off for The Shed, the local bar in our small town.

I plowed through the doors on a mission to find Mason. I passed a drunken couple walking out—it was a busy place. I knew most of the people in the bar probably knew me, but it didn’t matter at this point. I just needed to find Mason.

I moved through the thick crowd of drinkers, standing on my tiptoes to see past everyone to find Mason. It was so noisy it was giving me a headache.

“Excuse me,” I said to a guy as I moved through the bar. He fingered the top of his beer, watching me closely.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” he said loudly, cutting through the noise.

The jukebox kicked on blasting classic rock.

I finally gave in and spoke to him. Maybe this guy could offer some help. “I lost a friend. I was told he was here.”

He kept staring at me, a strange expression on his face. “You’ve got some wicked eyes.”

I touched my face, a little confused by his mention. “Yeah, it’s not my favorite part of me.”

“Reminds me of someone I know,” he said, trying to keep our conversation going.

I nodded, finally finding Mason. He was in the corner sitting with a table of guys and girls, throwing back shots.

“I’m Asher, by the way,” he said, coming to stand beside me. He followed my stare. He touched me with his hand, offering me a handshake. I was sure I never met anyone named Asher while I lived in Gusby.

“Nice to meet you, Asher,” I said, giving a polite nod. He was taller than I was, pale complexion and a set of straight teeth. Not too bad looking for his age.

“And you are?” he asked, studying me with his brown eyes.

“Kendall,” I said. It didn’t matter to me if Asher knew my name or not. I didn’t think he knew me. It wasn’t like we were plastered all over Gusby like we’d originally thought.

“Hmm,” Asher said.

Someone pushed past me. I turned to tell whoever the jerk was to back off. He was older with a strange set of eyes—eyes that I’d seen before. In fact, I saw those eyes on a regular basis.

I sucked in a knowing breath as his mouth turned up, revealing a gap-toothed smile.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch,” he declared, slugging Asher in the arm. They knew each other. Asher forced a smile, puzzled.

I could hardly believe my eyes. I tried backing away to escape what I had stumbled upon, but there was nowhere for me to go. The bar was filled to capacity, leaving me prisoner.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Asher asked him.

He took a swig of his beer, the biggest grin on his face as he watched me try to make a break for it.

“Asher, this here is your sister,” he said, letting out a laugh. “Remember your momma and I used to fight all the time about Joy-Ann?”

Asher nodded hesitantly.

“This is your half-sister. Boy I sure hope you’re not here for any money. I got three child supports coming out of my checks already. And I’m on parole,” he said, as if I cared.

“I’m not here for you at all…Dad.” I spat out his name. I never imagined I would see this man—the man who’d denied me from the start, but there he was right in front of me.

“I thought you were in prison,” I yelled over the noise.

“Good behavior. There’s so many in there they have to kick someone out. How’s your momma?” he asked, as if I gave a damn.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen her,” I said, crossing my arms.

I looked just like him—same eyes, same mouth shape, same chin. He wasn’t old and worn out looking like I’d imagined he’d be.

I moved on past my long lost father and slammed my fist down on the table where Mason was sitting. His new friends seemed a bit put out by my rudeness, but I didn’t care. Mason was totally wasted and I had reached my breaking point.

A short redhead gripped his shoulder, egging him on. She poured him another shot and pushed it in front of him.

“Mason, we have to leave right now,” I said, watching him spill the shot on the table. He smiled and shook his head.

“He’s having a good time,” the redhead said. She took the shot from him and brought it to his lips.

I smacked it out of her hand with one quick swipe. It flew past her, slamming into some guy’s back before falling to the ground. She was startled and looked to her friends for support. They just turned and walked away.

“I suggest you leave before I smack you next,” I warned her.

Mason stopped me before I climbed over her, prepared to knock the smug look off her face.

He stood up and almost fell backward before I caught him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I said in his ear.

“I saw the bar and I was thirsty,” he slurred. “By the way, we’re all out of Roger’s money.”

I held back the urge to beat him. “Let’s go right now,” I ordered, pulling him by the arm.

With no warning, his legs buckled and he fell beneath the crowd.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as everyone’s attention fell on Mason and me. I tried to remain cool while trying to figure out how to get Mason out of the bar.

Asher and Leon walked over in time to observe my dilemma. Leon grabbed Mason easily. A cigarette hung loosely from the side of his mouth. Asher helped him by taking the other side.

They yelled at everyone in their way to clear a path; something I would have never been able to do on my own.

“Don’t I know you?” Leon asked Mason. He lifted his head to get a closer look at him.

Mason swayed and fell into the side of the bar.

“I don’t think so,” Mason told him, sliding down the wall. “I’m Mason Vaughn, son of Payton. You probably slept with her somewhere along the line. Who knows? She slept with everything back then.”

Leon didn’t argue. And I was quite confident it was possible Mason’s mother and my father might have slept together.

“Where you guys headed?” he asked us, puffing on his cigarette.

I shot him a glance, but turned away quickly as he unzipped his pants and took a leak right on the side of the bar. I turned away, disgusted.

“Get up, Mason,” I demanded.

Asher helped me lift him, slinging one of Mason’s arms over his shoulder.

“You two staying at Motel 7?” he asked as Leon worked his zipper up and followed behind us as we walked.

“Yeah, something like that,” I said with a sigh. After tonight, we would be without a place to stay at all because of Mason’s drunken binge.

“It was nice meeting you. I’ve heard about you, but never knew what you looked like. You have his eyes. There’s no denying you’re his,” he said, laughing nervously. It was as awkward for him as it was for me.

“He only drinks on Thursdays. He works so much he really never has a moment’s rest. And then there’s the little ones on the weekends. That takes a toll on him, too.”

“Little ones?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer. “And how old are you?”

“Pops has five kids. Well, including you that makes six. I’m nineteen. The only thing I ever knew about you was we were born six months apart,” he explained. He tugged Mason straighter as we continued down the sidewalk to the motel. Mason was in and out of consciousness.

“I never knew that,” I admitted.

“There’s me, Conner, Seth, Abby Gale and Quincy. Twelve-year-old twins, seven-year-old girl, and a five-year-old boy. And he means well, I know it wasn’t that way with you, but he means well,” Asher insisted.

We stopped in front of Motel 7 and Asher opened the door. I wish it would just be over already. It was all too much meeting my father and a brother I didn’t know I had.

I handed the key to Asher. My father leaned against the motel. “Can we talk?”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” I asked, stepping back.

He straightened up and pulled out another cigarette. He offered me one, but I declined.

“I’m your old man. I have plenty to say to you,” he said, lighting up.

“Probably nothing I want to hear,” I said.

“How have you been? How’s life?”

I held back the tears. I never expected a question to hurt so much, but this was like a knife to my heart.

“Really?” I balled my fists. “That’s what I get after nearly twenty years?”

“I was a dumb kid messed up on drugs. I barely knew your momma. She was always coming down to my house to eat supper. I thought she was pretty. I was a boy with a hard-on, what can I say?”

There was so much to be said, like why?

“Nothing.” I turned to leave.

“You have family here, Kendall—a family you could be a part of. And I’m sorry for whatever it was you went through. But I honestly wouldn’t have made it better back then,” he said, and then fell silent.

I turned back around, looking at him. “Do you know she always said I had the eyes of a demon, just like my father?” I waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t.

“Do you know that I barely knew her? I knew nothing about either of my parents. Because my fucked-up Aunt Wanda was the one raising me pretty much my whole life, if you even want to call it that.”

Leon shook his head in disbelief like something had suddenly been revealed to him.

I stepped forward. “So I’ll answer your question on whether or not you could have made my life better. I doubt you want to know after everything I’ve been through. Apparently, you’re not that same man now—your son defends you. Who defended me?”

He nodded his head. “No, I want to hear it. I want to hear anything you have to say.”

I sucked in a breath. “Anything would have been better than Wanda.” I shoved him into the brick wall behind him with everything I had in me. He stumbled and nearly fell.

After he collected himself, he said, “My Gran once told me you can’t make up for what’s lost. You can only make up for what’s right in front of you. I’m not the best guy in the world, but I am your dad and I could try now that you’re right in front of me,” he said.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. “I don’t want anything from you.” I opened my eyes, tears falling. “I look in the mirror every day and see you staring back at me. That’s enough for me.”

I headed inside our room, leaving him alone on the sidewalk, just like he’d left me.

JULY 25

TH

ANOTHER DAY WAS COMING to an end. We had survived a few days in Gusby. We stayed far away from our small town resorting to hiding out in an old barn at the end of town. It wasn’t the best accommodations, but it was the only choice we had with no money.

Mason tended to his hangover in the only way he knew how—by drinking more. We couldn’t afford a room, but we had enough for some cheap booze. As I sat in the corner of the barn on a bale of hay, I couldn’t stop myself from glaring at him.

“What?” he asked, sipping the last of his booze. He was more alert than he had been the night before—the night I saw my father.

“So this is it?” I asked. I was tired and starting to feel like I was coming down with something.

“Is what it, Kendall?” he asked me with that annoyed tone to his voice that seemed to be the norm for him lately. He sat down, settling into the ground, his hands behind his head for support.

“We’re just going to sit here and wait for the other shoe to drop?” I asked. It seemed like our lives had been put on pause and we were waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

I had nobody else but Mason and I was beginning to wonder if he even cared anymore. It didn’t feel like it.

“I’m thinking. I’ve been thinking for days. I don’t know what to do. I’m not going to lie and say that I do when I don’t,” he said. His expression was blank.

If Mason was giving up, there really was no hope. I couldn’t understand what happened to the cocky Mason from Virginia. He would have refused to go down without a fight. But then he just left. Without him, we were doomed.

I started chewing on my nails. “Why do you think nobody here knows about us?” I hadn’t seen a single thing—no newspaper articles, no reports on the news—nothing.

“Gusby barely has cell phones or the internet. This shit hole is so behind they probably don’t even know who the president is,” he said.

He turned his head and spit as I got up and headed toward the barn door.

Mason yelled at me as I walked out of the barn. He had no idea where I was going so it didn’t take long for him to be hot on my heels to find out.

I knew I’d regret a lot of things in my life, but there was something I had to do. I would probably hate every minute of it, but I was going to go see my mother.

“Are you kidding me?” Mason asked, trying to stop me from heading down the street my mom lived on.

Give or take a few houses that had been modernized, everything on Jasper Way looked much the same as I remembered.

I didn’t have a single happy memory here. Most of my memories consisted of drunken fights, squealing tires, and a parade of men coming in and out of the house like a revolving door.

When my childhood home was mentioned, Aunt Wanda was usually in a drunken rage and went on about how horrible my mother was. She was always horrible in Aunt Wanda’s eyes.

“What do I have to lose?” I asked. The old house came into view with every step closer. It showed signs of improvement—no more peeling paint and all the windows were intact. The house number was hanging in place—not crooked or missing a number. Even the steps were new. It looked like a whole new place.

I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my t-shirt as I studied the house. I felt slightly sick as I came to a stop in front of the gate. I looked down at the ground where green grass had replaced the blanket of dirt scattered with rocks.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

Was I really standing outside the gate of my childhood home?

Was I insane to think that I could really come back?

“Kendall, what’s there to figure out? Your mom might be standing in there right now on the other side of that door,” Mason warned me.

He knew at one time the mere mention of my mother would send me running for the hills. She was never someone I wanted to talk about, let alone see in person.

Mason’s face was pale. He looked close to grabbing me and running for it.

“Who are you?” a tiny voice called out.

Mason and I looked at each other confused. We knew it was the voice of a child, but we couldn’t see anyone. Then a small, brown-haired girl slid out from underneath the porch.

Her long braids danced side to side as she made it to her feet. She stared up at us with big blue eyes and round cheeks. She was cute.

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and pulled eyeglasses from her shirt pocket. She shoved them on and used her pointer finger to slide them up her nose.

“I said who are you,” she demanded.

Mason kneeled down, getting on her level. “How old are you?” he asked, avoiding her question and plying her with one of his own.

“Can’t you see I’m five?” She was not amused by him or the smell of cheap booze on his breath. She dramatically waved her hand in front of her face, scrunching her nose in disgust.

“You’re very small for five. When I was your age I was two heads taller,” he said.

“If I had a giant fro like yours I’d probly be taller too,” she said, letting out an accomplished giggle. She clutched at her belly and fell in an exaggerated fit of laughter.

I couldn’t help but laugh. The girl’s unintentional rudeness and the look on Mason’s face in response was priceless.

I wondered if my mother was inside and what she was doing or thinking at this moment.

“So, who are you?” she asked, jumping back up. She tipped her head back, getting a really good look at Mason and me.

“I’m Mason. I used to live around here long before you even existed. Way before you was annoying the shit out of your mother,” he said, looking up at the house.

I slapped him in the arm. “That was rude.”

The little girl removed her glasses and shoved them back in her pocket. She gave Mason a once-over, then spit on his leg before taking off in a flash and slipping back under the porch.

Mason cursed and grumbled in irritation, wiping at his leg. “It’s not even funny, Kendall. What kind of kid does that? That’s no kid, that’s the spawn of Satan.”

This only made me laugh even harder. Mason glared at me as I covered my mouth, trying to stifle the laughter.

A familiar screech filled the air. Mason and I immediately looked at the front door. We both knew that sound all too well. The door still screamed in pain just like when we were kids.

I looked away as fear took over. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. Little by little I forced myself to take her in. First the black strappy sandals, with perfectly polished red toenails. She was wearing a pair of black dress pants and a red blouse that clung to her tiny waist.

I bit my lip as I took it all in—my eyes fixed on her face. It was my mother. I was overcome with emotion. She looked the same as I remembered her, only now, it looked like she took better care of herself.

“Hi there,” she said when she saw us. “Have either of you seen a little bitty girl with pigtails?”

She started down the steps.

“She’s under the porch,” Mason spoke up. He was stunned at seeing my mother after all these years.

“Dixie Jean!” she yelled, getting down on all fours. “What did I tell you about crawling under there?”

The little girl came out quickly at the sound of her voice. She latched on to my mother, holding tight to her as she stood back up.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the two of us.

“No problem,” Mason said.

I felt like the life was being sucked out of me. I tried to form words, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Momma, if I promise to never go down there again can I have some cookies?” Little Dixie asked, playing with her hair.

This was my sister. My mother had another kid.

“Of course. Now off into the house. I’m sure there’s a reason these two are standing out here. Shoo,” she said, hurrying her off.

Dixie stopped on the stairs looking back at us. She nodded her head, a big smile on her face.

“He said his name is Mason. He said he used to live around here. And I spit on him because he said I was annoying,” Dixie said. She let out a giggle and ran inside.

I looked at my mother. Her expression shifted from pleasant to total confusion. She studied Mason closely. Her eyes widened and she brought her hands to her mouth as realization sunk in. She instantly looked at me next.

Mason grabbed me by the arm, sensing my hesitation. My legs felt like rubber.

She stepped closer to me. “Kendall?” All the color drained from her face and she screamed before dropping at my feet and covering her face with trembling hands.

Mason held on to me. Neither one of us knew what to do and I was in a daze. Alarmed by my mother’s scream, the neighbors came to their doors to see what was going on.

Little Dixie ran down the stairs to our mother to see what was wrong with her.

She looked back up at me, tears mixed with mascara streaming down her face.

There were no words to describe her reaction. It wasn’t what I expected.

She was hysterically sobbing at my feet.

“Say something,” Mason whispered, jabbing me in the side.

I couldn’t speak. I was dumbfounded.

“Joy-Ann?” Mason started with.

She nodded, getting back on her feet. Dixie climbed the stairs and took a seat. She was crying, too. The poor child was confused and scared for her mom. I watched her as she wiped away her tears. She reminded me of myself at her age.

By some miracle, my legs worked well enough to make my way to Dixie. I took her hand and sat down beside her.

“Don’t be scared. I’m sorry for upsetting your momma. I promise everything is okay,” I reassured her as I looked into her big blue eyes.

“I don’t like when she cries,” Dixie told me, huffing in misery as the tears flowed. Her tiny body shook as she tried to get the words out.

“That’s very sweet. You sound like a very caring daughter. And I love your name.” I fixed her glasses for her.

“I am all the time,” she agreed.

“Momma’s okay, Dixie,” my mother said, standing in front of us now. She wiped at her eyes, cleaning herself up for Dixie. Her hair brushed against my shoulder as she kissed the top of Dixie’s head.

“Everything all right?” a man asked in the doorway. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap.

“Everything is fine. Take Dixie inside and give her some cookies please,” she told him.

He was in his forties, well-groomed, and didn’t look drunk or high. He looked like a perfectly normal man.

“I can’t believe I’m looking at you,” she told me, taking a seat next to me on the steps.

“She’s grown, huh?” Mason said with a smile. “In my opinion she’s beautiful. More so than when we were just two scrappy kids.”

Momma laughed through her tears. Nodding her head in agreement. She touched my hair, turning me to look at her.

“You really are beautiful,” she said with a sigh. “Where’s Wanda?”

I wasn’t shocked she would ask that. Wanda had run off with her kid.

I just wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Wanda’s far away from here, that’s for sure,” Mason said.

Momma looked off. It was easy to see something was bothering her.

“She would be so lucky to be so far away,” she said.