Текст книги "Run"

Автор книги: Holly Hood

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

JUNE 8

TH

IT WAS MORNING. The sun was high.

I sat in the grass behind our car peeling apart a long twig and waiting on Aunt Wanda. I hoped she would get up soon so we could go.

My stomach growled…loudly. So loud I could hear it every time. There was no way I would go back inside that house after everything that happened. I’d give Aunt Wanda ten more minutes and then I was going to walk down the street to the gas station. It’d be a long, uncomfortable walk without shoes.

The guy from last night came out of his house, his front door screeching and then falling back with a soft thud. I watched him stretch. He raised his arms above his head as he looked around, taking in the day.

I dropped the stick as soon as I realized he was coming over.

“Good morning! You’re still here.” He rested his hand on our rusty car.

“Morning,” I said back. I stood, feeling a bit odd sitting on the ground while he talked to me. I was sure he pitied me enough already.

“Have you eaten?” he asked. He tilted his head, his eyebrows lifting just the slightest as he waited for a reply.

“I’m waiting on Wanda,” I told him. I ran my hands against my shorts brushing the grass and dirt away. I realized he was cute, a natural blond with a beautiful mouth and perfectly simple features. I liked the way his eyes were warm and looked full of life. I didn’t see that very much.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked, leaning against the car. He crossed his arms and batted at the grass with his foot.

“Kendall. You didn’t say what yours was either.”

“Ryan Bridger. I’ve lived here my entire life. I work construction. Can’t say that I’m the best of friends with Jon and his boys, but sometimes I get bored,” he said, offering more information than I needed.

“Nice to meet you, Ryan.” I smiled a little as I met up with his eyes. He smiled back.

“Are you hungry? I can fix breakfast. I hate to see you out here hungry,” he said, “because I think we both know Wanda ain’t coming out of that house anytime soon.”

I nodded in agreement. We walked to his house and went inside.

Ryan headed for the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards for pots and pans. It was obvious he didn’t do much cooking. I was starting to wonder if he even had a girlfriend.

He cleared the newspapers off the kitchen table and hurried to toss his jacket from the chair. “Have a seat,” he said.

He started cracking eggs in a bowl, looking up every couple seconds to make sure I was still with him.

“Where are you from?”

I thought about his question, debating on whether to tell the truth or a lie. Lies were easier and left no trail to be followed. Sometimes when I felt someone deserved the truth, I’d give up a few details about myself.

“South Carolina,” I answered.

He nodded, not knowing if that was the truth or a lie.

“How did you end up with your aunt? Where’s your folks?” he pressed.

“Um, just one of those things that happened. My mom’s dead. And I don’t know my father. I mean… I know his name, but never met him,” I said.

The last I knew, my mom was alive and well, probably lying with some man as I sat in this man’s kitchen.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“My mom has another daughter. But she was taken away from her. Years before I was born,” I said.

And that was true. Little miss Joy-Ann had gotten herself knocked up by the principal of her high school. She was a freshman and he found any and every reason to see her in his office. Eventually, Mom did what she always did and slept with him. She never imagined that she would end up pregnant. Being barely fifteen with a kid wasn’t going to work out too well for her. She had no parents to help support the kid. And the principal wanted nothing to do with her. So my sister, Coral, was taken away from her and the principal found a way to get her suspended from school.

Mom always said she never broke into the school and that she didn’t steal from the school either. But coming from her, I didn’t believe her one way or another. I just knew that Coral was saved all because of it.

Ryan carried the two plates to the table. He set down two forks. He did his best to dish out scrambled eggs. I wasn’t going to complain about the food—I hadn’t eaten since the morning before.

We ate and chatted. It grew quiet after a time—I was never good at making conversation.

I finally stood up, dreading the idea that I had to go back outside and wait for Wanda. “Do you mind if I hang out until Wanda is ready to leave?”

He looked relieved. “Of course. You can watch TV, take a nap, whatever. I don’t mind at all.”

“What are some of your favorite shows?” he asked, flipping through the channels.

“I’ve always liked actions movies. And old school gore.” I smiled.

He nodded, biting down on his lip as he looked at me. I knew what it meant—he was attracted to me. I moved closer, my hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of his legs. He acted a bit shocked.

“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said, but his kiss said otherwise.

“I don’t care what kind of guy you are. You know nothing about me or who I am,” I told him. I guided his hands to my chest, holding them there so he could feel my heart pounding.

In an instant, his hands attacked me, his fingers glided down my ribcage. I pulled my shirt over my head. He tossed it on the floor. I was enjoying this a whole lot more than I thought I would.

I leaned back against the couch, and helped him out of his jeans. He was in a hurry, and I wondered how often he had sex. He seemed a bit too eager.

I ran my fingers through his hair. He was a good kisser, but I broke away—kissing made it way too personal. Nice guys like him kissed nice girls—I wasn’t a nice girl.

He worked on my shorts, finally freeing me.

“I’ll be back,” he said jumping up. I sat up, staring down at my bare legs.

“What are you doing?” I asked, growing a little impatient.

“Just grabbing a condom,” he said back.

I trailed my fingers across my stomach, waiting for him to come back.

I barely heard the front door when it slammed against the wall, and an enraged blonde busted into the house, her fist swinging as soon as I saw her.

“Who the hell are you, bitch?” she said, throwing her purse on the ground ready to fight.

I was already in the kitchen hopping into my shorts.

“He obviously has a girlfriend,” I muttered. She rushed the table, flipping it on its side. I backed up, tugging my shirt on, glad to be dressed.

“You’re damn right he has a girlfriend. Ryan where you at? You sorry son of a bitch,” she yelled. “I’m telling my brother and he’s going to beat the piss out of you.”

I felt bad, but at the same time I was angry. Here I was in another situation trying to fight my way out. “You get away from me or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” I warned. I kicked the chair over to show I meant it.

She screamed at me and crashed over the table, her hands immediately finding my hair as she threw me down on the floor. I held onto her arms, fighting to get on my side. The trick was to never end up on the bottom. Being on the bottom meant your face was about to be pummeled. Being on the bottom also meant you were shit out of luck. Aunt Wanda taught me everything I needed to know about fighting.

I pressed my knees into her stomach, gaining control.

“Don’t you touch me!” I spit in her face, swinging my fist, colliding with her pretty little nose.

She rolled over, taking me with her. I couldn’t believe such a petite little blonde had such muscle behind her. I fought against her, my head slamming against the floor.

“Why are you in my house with Ryan? Who the hell are you?” She swung, hitting me in the face, and clawed me with her painted nails.

Ryan finally showed himself. He was dressed. He pulled her off me along with a chunk of my hair. I jumped up and started for the door, but didn’t make it. She jumped on my back like a rabid monkey. I lost my footing and crashed onto the floor.

He told her to let me go, only adding fuel to her fire.

Gun shots sliced through the air and my eardrums rang from the blast. I lifted myself from the ground, looking down at the blonde cowering in fear of Aunt Wanda, who had the gun aimed right at her head. Not a single ounce of Wanda trembled as she locked on her target.

“Stay where you are, bitch,” she growled. She motioned for me to get out of the house. I looked at Ryan one last time, his face white as a ghost. First, he had been caught with another woman, and then a crazy lady barged in his house wielding a pistol.

“Let’s go,” I said from the doorway as I examined my bloody knuckles. I hoped it wasn’t about to turn ugly.

“You should be lucky I don’t blow your pretty little head all over this shit hole,” she screamed, kicking the coffee table.

“I’m sorry!” she said, crouched down on the floor. Ryan stayed where he was.

“Let’s go, please,” I begged.

“Kendall, shut your mouth. This is your mess anyways. You should know better than to try and screw men with houses,” she scolded me.

I sighed as I walked out the door, wishing I had a gun of my own to blow her head off.

Two shots rang out. I headed back over to Jon’s to gather our things. I knew the drill. As I walked through the front door I could smell smoke and stale beer. I stepped over Jon’s body on the floor. I passed the creep who had nearly tried to have his way with me. The bullet hole in his head left a trail down the side of his face.

I wasn’t sure where the other one was, but I knew he was dead.

Finding the suitcase, I opened it up to find a stack of cash and a bag of marijuana.

“I guess that’s what you get for dealing drugs, huh, Jon?” I said, as I passed him to get to the door.

Wanda was in the yard unscrewing the license plate from Jon’s pickup. She jumped to her feet, taking the suitcase from me, her expression serious as she hustled to throw our things in the truck.

I hadn’t even heard the gunshots go off before she busted into Ryan’s house.

“Go in there and see what you can find,” she ordered.

I headed back into Ryan’s house. His dead body was slumped against the kitchen wall, his girlfriend’s between the coffee table and the couch. I clutched my stomach, feeling sick. He didn’t deserve to die.

I rummaged through drawers, ending up with sixty bucks and a bottle of pain pills.

I jogged back out to the truck. Wanda was ready to go. She studied the items, opening up the bottle of pills, and swallowed a few before tossing them beside her on the seat.

“Well, Kendall, here we go. On the road, again,” she said, smirking as we headed down the road.

JUNE 16

TH

IT HAD BEEN more than a week and we were still making our way. We’d barely stopped for more than a bathroom break or a quick bite to eat in days.

My legs were cramped. I found myself fantasizing about beds and how nice it would be to just sprawl out in one and sleep. I hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.

It always haunted me when she killed someone. All I could see in my mind was their blood, their lifeless bodies. I saw a lot of it in all the years I was running around with Wanda, but that never made it easy. I was never going to turn as cold as she was.

I’d tried to come up with an excuse for her, but there was no excuse for Wanda. Why would she do such a thing? She was a cold and calculating person who thought only about herself. I knew that would never change.

After she had killed, there was no going back. We’d always be looking over our shoulders, knowing one day we’d be caught and thrown into prison.

I had never killed anyone. I didn’t have it in me. I just stood in the distance waiting for it to be over. Those moments were surreal, everything moved as if in slow-motion. I couldn’t hear anything and my heart slowed down so much I just knew it would stop beating. My muscles froze up and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die.

Once it was over, I’d try to remove myself from the situation. I’d pretend they weren’t there as I slunk through their homes, taking whatever was of value. Everything I touched made me feel as if I was one fingerprint closer to jail or the electric chair.

I knew Aunt Wanda had taken me down with her a long time ago. The way I saw it, I was an accomplice and it wouldn’t matter at all to the world why I stayed instead of leaving to make a better life for myself. I would be viewed as the girl who aided her psycho aunt on a killing spree across America.

Was this what I wanted out of life?

I wanted a chance to be me. I’d never had a single moment to enjoy any of life’s little pleasures. I was the neglected child turned teenager traveling the road with her crazy aunt. In a twisted way, I reasoned that I got to see things I probably wouldn’t otherwise be able to see. So, I stayed.

I lifted my head from my palm as we neared the big green sign on the expressway. We were close to Rugby, Florida. I could tell Aunt Wanda was ready to call it quits for the day. She pulled her purse from the floor like she always did when we were close to stopping.

I shoved my feet back into my sandals, ready to leap from the truck.

“Now look, we have fifteen hundred dollars. I’m not sure how long it’s going to stretch, so make it last,” she said, elbowing me in the side.

I nodded, wondering what the new place would be like.

“Do you know anyone here?” I asked. She knew someone in just about every state that we passed through.

“Of course, what do you take me for?” She shot me an irritated look, shooting across a couple lanes of traffic. She drove single-handed, pulled out a cigarette and lit one up. Her body dropped its usual defensiveness as she exhaled her first drag of her cigarette. The smoke drifted out my window.

“Payton is staying at the motel on Lapenzieda,” she said, giving me a knowing glance.

I grabbed ahold of my wrist, squeezing it tightly to contain my joy. Aunt Wanda was never one for joy.

“Yes, Mason is with her,” she said, pulling up to the motel.

I bit my lip in angst. Mason was two years older than me and the only person I’d known my entire life. He was from the same town as me. I guess the one good thing Wanda ever did was introduce the two of us when we were kids.

Mason was a great guy whose life was similar to mine. His mother, Payton, was just as sleazy and cold as Aunt Wanda. They were great friends because they were both cut from the same cloth. In the old days, they’d paired up and did all kinds of things together. It was only when Payton gave birth to Mason that their friendship took a turn. Payton had tried to be a good person—or, at least, better. But that ended as soon as Mason’s dad cheated on her. It didn’t take long for her to return to her old ways.

Mason didn’t have the heart to ditch his mom. He looked past everything she did and stuck with her through one crazy thing after another.

Part of me understood why he did. The other part of me never would. I’d never loved anything or anyone, and I’d probably never know when I did, either.

I gathered my things, jumping out of the truck. Aunt Wanda stretched. I glanced at the motel, scanning the shiny gold numbers on the red doors.

Seconds later, a door flew open, and there was Mason coming to greet us. He crushed me with his towering frame. He made it over six feet by a couple inches. I always felt so small when I was around him. He wrapped his arms around me and picked me up into a huge bear hug. I waited until he placed me back on my feet to wrap my arms around him.

“You’re still skinny,” I teased. He’d always prided himself on staying healthy.

He poked me in the ribs, messing up my hair, laying it on thick before he grew serious.

“How was the drive here with the crazy lady?” he asked, his hand covering his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling as he laughed. He was a one-of-a-kind type of guy.

“Long and long, what else is there to say?” I said, letting him take my bag.

Mason had an olive complexion just like his Puerto Rican father. He got his light eyes from his mom. They were green and very noticeable with his dark skin. He had a head full of curly, dark brown hair. It was shaggy and sometimes had a life of its own. There were times I thought he should cut it, but he always countered my argument with “that’s the style.” Both his personality and hairstyle carried a sixties kind of vibe. He’d have fit in well back then.

Aunt Wanda and Payton were playing catch-up at the door—probably discussing their latest crime sprees.

Mason made his way past the two of them, going inside the small motel room. He tossed my bag on the floor.

Payton stopped talking. She glanced in my direction and then at Mason. He dove onto the bed.

“Don’t be getting comfortable. I told you I want to sleep,” she griped. He stopped what he was doing, flashing a big smile at her. She rolled her eyes and went back to talking to Wanda.

“Do you want to get something to eat and catch up?” he asked.

I sat down and looked at him, the light stubble on his face, the dark eyebrows, and the crazy hair. I had forgotten how much I missed seeing a familiar face.

“I’m not really in the mood to go out, if you get my drift,” I said softly. He nodded, understanding what I was referring to. It was a regular thing for him as well.

“Mason, go get a room so you can get the hell off of my bed,” Payton said.

Aunt Wanda put her things down. I studied the room, realizing they were sharing it. This meant they had something up their sleeves.

“Go get something to eat and a room. I don’t know how long we’ll be here.” She sat down with a groan.

I took the money, and Mason touched my arm, ready to go.

Wanda and Payton rolled their eyes.

“Mason, will you let her breathe? You act like you’ve never seen her before,” Payton said, lighting up a cigarette.

He shook his head, his countenance falling.

I followed him outside.

“Does it ever get easier?” I asked him. I didn’t know how he could take the nit-picking all the time.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard all my life. It’s the people who don’t act like that that scare me.” He laughed.

He smiled as he opened the door for me. The woman at the counter looked up. I turned away, pretending I needed a map from the rack.

“I just need a room please, ma’am,” Mason said, slapping down his own money.

“Single bed or double?” she asked.

I twirled the old rack of maps trying to remain calm. Moments like these were uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Double,” he said quickly. He touched my back, letting me know we were fine. I sighed and my stomach filled with knots. It always scared me.

“She is none the wiser. No one is looking for you. Relax.” He took my hand. I nodded, feeling protected once the door was shut and we were in the room.

Mason turned on the TV and sat down on the bed. I took off my shoes and did the same. This was the moment I had been waiting for. The moment I could just lie down and relax.

“I’m glad you guys came,” he said.

“Me too. I don’t get to see you much anymore.” I frowned. He took me by the chin, trying to get me to smile. I gave him a look, but it was hardly a smile.

“Come on, I know it’s not that often, but we are here now aren’t we? So tell me how everything has been.” He turned to face me.

“Hard. Things are hard. We were at some drug dealer’s house and Wanda went batty again. I swear I have an ulcer, it’s nuts.” I rubbed my palm into my forehead, stressed beyond words as I stared up at the ceiling. Mason inched closer and planted a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Try to forget about it for right now. Let’s just get some sleep,” he told me. He kissed my cheek over and over. I touched his hair, slipping my fingers through it. He smiled, softly pressing his lips against mine, his hand finding the side of my face.

“Close your eyes. Get some rest. I’m right here, okay?” He searched my eyes. I nodded, letting him kiss me again. This time more intensely. My heart sped up and stayed that way until it ended.

He wrapped his arms around me, his body molding to mine. We both fell asleep.

 

JUNE 17

TH

 

MY EYES FLUTTERED below my heavy lids. I could feel the sun on my skin as it shined through the window. I tried to stay asleep, but it was no use.

“Good morning,” Mason said from his chair by the window. He was showered and dressed. I stuck an arm out from under the comforter giving a good stretch.

Mason smiled. He was waiting for me to say I felt better.

“Good morning, Mason,” I said, giving a small smile. I smoothed my hair, sitting up.

Mason jumped up, grabbing a brown bag on the table. He rifled through it, pulling out orange juice and a white Styrofoam container. He handed it over, sitting down beside me on the bed.

“I got you breakfast,” he said.

I popped open the lid. There was French toast with fresh strawberries along with scrambled eggs. I smiled bigger this time. He had remembered my favorite foods.

Mason was a good guy. He had a big heart—a kind heart. But, like everyone else I’d ever met, people surprised you all the time. He was involved in a lot of shady things with his mother. She’d made him into the kind of person she needed.

“Get dressed and we can go for a walk,” he said, turning on the TV. He sprawled across the bed, caught up in what was on. I looked around the room. It surprised me that anyone could be so calm when their life was so dreadful.

***

Mason made sure everything was all right before we headed out. I held his hand, looking at Payton’s motel door to make sure they didn’t know we were leaving. We both knew they wouldn’t be happy we were walking around. We were supposed to lay low, to be invisible at all times.

Mason hopped the chain-link fence behind the hotel room. It rattled and shook as he scaled it. He landed on his feet, pointing to the top, trying to persuade me to do the same. I studied the six foot metal and shook my head. I knew it was a task I could conquer, but I just didn’t feel like it.

He kneeled, tugging on the fence to free up enough space for me to squeeze through. Thankfully, the fencing was cheap enough to manipulate.

I wiped my hands on my jeans once I made it through. Mason slipped his hand around my waist and we walked through the field behind the motel. The ground was scattered with trash—Aunt Wanda always knew how to pick the crappiest neighborhoods.

We found an old railroad track that went on for miles. Mason hopped on, balancing himself. I followed along, waiting for him to start some kind of conversation. He wasn’t usually the quiet one.

He held his arms out, his feet making substantial ground, not once did he waver. His concentration was impeccable at everything he did.

I picked up a rock and chucked it. That got his attention and he hopped off the tracks, snagging my hand in his. “Do you ever think of where you want to live?”

I stared at the overpass coming up.

“I liked Massachusetts—it wasn’t so bad. And the way they talked was wild.” I grinned.

Aunt Wanda and I had stayed there for nearly a month. The accents were awesome. They were quick, nothing like me, the girl with the southern drawl that never left. I couldn’t sound threatening if I tried.

“I liked Arkansas and Texas. I’m hoping we head to Texas again but with those women, you never know what’s going to happen.”

We made it under the overpass.

I leaned against the cool brick enjoying the shelter. Mason stood in front of me. He touched my chin. I knew he wanted to kiss me. It was something we did out of habit. I wondered if I was just a means of gratifying his sexual needs or if it meant something more to him.

I closed my eyes, his lips against mine made my heart skip a beat. He lightly trailed his fingertips across the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling away before he got too personal.

We stopped. I stared into his eyes, the warmth of his breath against my skin. My heart became spastic when he skimmed my waist with his fingertips.

“I miss you,” he whispered. I kissed him again, but he pulled away. He sat down, pressing his back against the brick. He seemed nervous about something.

“I know you do.” I sat down beside him. Mason was never down—this wasn’t like him.

“Well, shit. Are you going to say you miss me, too? Or don’t you?” he said, shaking his head.

“I miss you, too. You should know that,” I said, feeling bad I’d have to confirm that to him. It was something I figured he already knew.

“I feel like every day is my last anymore,” he said, letting out a short laugh.

“You shouldn’t think like that, Mason. I don’t think like that. We didn’t create this mess.” I shoved my hair behind my ear. “At the least, we should be able to make it out alive.” Now, I was frightened.

Mason stared at the ground. He picked up a stone, rolling it around in his hand.

“Life isn’t kind. Who are you trying to kid, Kendall?” He sighed.

I leaned back against the wall, knowing he was right. How many people in our situation made it out alive? Not many.

“She ruined your life. You know that?” he said. “Sure, Joy was messed up, but Wanda ain’t a stitch better. If anything, I think Joy would have done a better job raising you.”

I never liked to talk about the past and how Wanda snatched me like a thief in the night. I chose to go with her.

“I think I’m better off,” I said, looking away.

“I wish I could make you some perfect life somewhere. If I can put up with this, I can do anything.”

The overpass started to shake. We both jumped to our feet knowing the train was coming our way. I started to head out, but Mason grabbed my hand and tugged me back. He pressed me against the wall, parts of him touching me that I would have preferred not at a time like this. He covered my eyes, shushing me.

“We’re going to die!” I pushed him. He put his other hand over my heart as the sound grew louder.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. Just live in the moment! Sometimes that’s all you’ve got!”

Our bodies shook and my skin tingled from the adrenaline rushing through my veins. It was a mixture of fear and joy, a moment I couldn’t escape—like every other part of my life. The only difference, this moment would end and it would go away.

Mason kissed me, thrusting his tongue deeply into my mouth. He held tight to my neck, neither one of us able to do much with the train flying by us. His hands slid down my body and unzipped my shorts.

I opened my eyes, shocked by what he was doing.

“Just go with it,” he said, letting my shorts drop to my ankles. I undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. He gripped my legs, his fingers squeezing my thighs, pressing my back against the wall. I closed my eyes, the sight of the train behind him scared the hell out of me. I let him do as he wished, biting at my lip when he moved my underwear out of the way and pushed himself inside me. I couldn’t lie, I was enjoying every second of it.

I gripped his t-shirt, my back scraping the concrete, but I didn’t care.

The train finally passed, freeing us from the wall. Mason pulled his pants up and hopped back on the track. I did the same, watching him, wondering what he was thinking at that moment.

Was it just silly sex with an old friend?

“I guess we should go back,” he said. “Or do you want to make a run for it and leave them behind?”

He laughed, jokingly pushing me.

I knew he was only joking. He would never take off.

“You couldn’t do that to your momma and you know it. I know it.” I gave him a look, searching for something that said otherwise.

He only offered a smirk.