by Kate L. Mary
I turn on my heel and walk out of the diner, keeping my eyes straight ahead so I don’t have to look at the redneck again. His eyes bore into me as I go.
I make it three more hours before the car sputters and starts to slow. That’s all. My foot slams on the gas pedal, but nothing happens. The wheel is stiff as I turn it hard to the right and pull to the shoulder. A car blares its horn when it flies by. I probably got the finger, but my vision is too clouded by tears to know for sure. It’s over. This is it.
The entire car jerks when the engine sputters, then dies completely. I don’t even bother putting it in park. There’s no point. It’s never moving again. I stare straight ahead. What do I do now? There’s a sign about fifteen feet in front of me, announcing that the next check point is twenty miles away. I can walk or I can try to hitch a ride. Both are a risk. But then again, so is sitting here.
I grab my purse and pull out the photo, clutching it so tight the paper crinkles. Her blue eyes stare up at me, big and round. Innocent. Squeezing my heart and making my throat constrict. I just wanted to see her one time before it all ended. Just once.
A horn honks and I jump, almost dropping the picture. A car has pulled to the side of the road less than six feet behind me. My heart pounds and every muscle in my body tightens. Good or bad? I don’t know. No one gets out of the car, and I can’t see in.
My purse is still in my lap.
I put the picture back and pull out my gun.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, then open the door and step out. It’s a dark blue Nissan Armada. A monster of a vehicle. The windows are tinted so dark there’s no way it can be legal. The outline of two men is barely visible through the dark windows, but I can’t tell who they are or what they look like. And I have no idea what they’re doing.
I take two small steps toward the car and the driver’s side door opens. The redneck from the diner steps out.
“Well, hello there!” he drawls. His accent isn’t southern exactly, more low-class than anything else. He keeps the door open as he steps away from the car, his own gun clutched in his right hand. “What a surprise. Thought I’d never see you again.” He winks.
I tighten my grip on the gun and raise it to chest level. Steadying it with both hands. Aiming at the center of his chest. I’m a good shot.
He puts his hands up, but doesn’t release the gun. “Hold on now, no need to point that thing at me. I just stopped to see if you was havin’ car trouble.”
The passenger door opens, and the other man steps out. He stays behind the open door but points another gun at me through the gap between the door and the car.
“I think you should put that down,” he calls. He sounds younger than the first man, but their voices are similar. Same low-class accent.
“Just a precaution.” I keep my gun up and my arm steady. “I’ve had lots of target practice, so don’t think I don’t know what I’m doing.”
The first man nods and slowly bends down, lowering the hand with the gun toward the ground. “I’m just gonna put this down, and my brother is gonna put his down, and we’re gonna have a nice chat. That sound good?”
His tone is condescending. Warm and fuzzy, but in a fake way. It puts me on edge. I shouldn’t trust this man. I know it.
“Lower your gun, Axl. Come on out where she can see ya.”
The man behind the door pulls his gun back and walks forward. He is younger than his brother, and taller. Where the first man is stocky with a beer belly, Axl is broad. His muscles strain against his flannel shirt. He’s average-looking. Not unattractive and hard like his brother, more unassuming. Probably why his brother called him out. So I’d let my guard down.
I’m silent as the two men put their guns on the ground and take a step back. My eyes flit between them while I try to decide what to do. Axl’s face is blank and he’s silent, his hands casually at his side. His brother, on the other hand, grins at me with his hands still in the air. His smile is fake as my boobs.
“We ain’t gonna hurt you,” Axl spits out. His voice drips with irritation. Guess he isn’t thrilled they stopped to help me.
“Why did you stop then?”
“I told you, darlin’,” the first man says. “We was just checking to see if you needed help. That’s all. I’m Angus, and this here is my brother, Axl. We’re travelin’, just like you. Thought we’d help out.”
“Nothing’s that simple these days.” I flex my fingers around the grip of my gun.
Axl rolls his eyes and turns toward his brother. “I told you this was stupid. Let’s go.”
“No, no. She needs help. It’s obvious.” Angus turns back to me and smiles in what I’m sure he thinks is a charming way. It’s not. “We just wanted to help ya out. That’s all.”
I study them for a minute longer with the gun still aimed at Angus’s chest. My knuckles start to ache. These two rednecks may be my only option. “Where are you headed?”
“California.” Angus flashes me a big grin.
Sighing, I lower the gun. Shit. “Me too.”
This makes Angus smile even bigger, and I have the urge to shoot him anyway. There is definitely something creepy about this guy.
“Well then, we’ll just travel on up there together,” Angus says. Another smile.
“You’d give me a ride?”
“Sure would. Can’t leave a young lady out here all by herself. It’s a dangerous world.” Angus winks and his eyes sweep over my body, just like they did in the diner. I shudder. He’s dangerous.
“I’d pitch in for gas and anything else we needed.” I cringe at the pleading in my voice. Not sure if there’s any sense in hiding it, though. Angus knows I’m desperate, like everyone else on the road.
He smiles again. “Sure you will.”
Angus picks up both guns on his way to the Nissan. “Help her with her bags, Axl.” He doesn’t even glance at his brother. It’s an order. He is definitely at the top of the food chain here.
Axl doesn’t blink. Not that I thought he would. He heads toward my car. Axl doesn’t frighten me or put me on edge like his brother, but maybe he should.
I open the back door and give him a strained smile. “Sorry about the gun.”
He nods, but barely looks at me. “Understandable.”
Axl grabs both my bags without so much as a grunt and heads back to the Nissan. I gather my meager belongings as fast as possible since I don’t want them to drive off with my stuff. I jog to catch up with him. Angus catches my eye. He gives me another one of his smiles and I do my best to return it. I’m sure mine is even less convincing than his.
“You’re in the back,” Angus says, but he isn’t talking to me. He’s talking to Axl.
My stomach twists into knots, but I climb in the passenger seat anyway. I should argue, say I’d rather be in the back so I can get some sleep. But I don’t want to cause problems. I have to get to California. Emily is there.
LEARN MORE
The Blood Will Dry
Chapter One
Stepping out of the car was like opening a hot oven and climbing inside. The sun beat down on my head while a burst of fiery air engulfed me, coating my skin in stickiness in five seconds flat. Even the tiny sundress I wore didn’t help. Not during the worst heat wave Ohio had seen in years. Not when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the air was sticky enough to curl even the straightest hair.
“Thank God for air conditioning,” I said as I slammed the door shut.
Only Michael’s head was visible from the other side of the car, and under the brilliant summer sun, his golden hair shone enough to blind someone. He shot me a smile that made the already bright day seem ten times brighter, and my knees wobbled just like they had when we’d first met. You would think I’d be over that by now. That a surprise pregnancy and the drama we’d been through with his family would have killed the butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach. But it hadn’t, and I was starting to think nothing could, because I loved this man more than I co
uld have ever thought possible. It was so intense that it felt like something out of a fairy tale or a Nicholas Sparks novel. A love that would transcend time and death and any other obstacle that got in our way.
“It isn’t even that hot yet.” Michael lifted his head toward the flawless blue sky. It was the same color as his eyes, although not nearly as breathtaking. “It’s only June.”
“Great,” I muttered as I headed to the back door, thinking about our shitty little apartment and the nearly useless window unit.
The thing worked in the broad sense of the word. It sputtered out cool air well enough, accompanied by a fine mist of water most of the time. It was all we could afford at the moment though, and even that was only because Michael had given plasma three days a week last summer so he could save up for the thing. Of course, back then we’d had it in our bedroom because I’d been big and round, and so hot that I’d found it impossible to sleep most nights. After he’d installed the little window unit I’d stretched out on the floor in front of it—totally naked—and sighed in contentment as it pinged me with icy drops of water. It had been such a relief that I didn’t even care that I was covered in goose bumps.
Now the window unit was in Cassidy’s room because she needed it more than we did. Although, with this heat wave sweeping the state, I had been seriously considering moving her crib to the master bedroom for the summer so we could all enjoy the bought air.
The back door squeaked in protest when I pulled it open. I leaned in, smiling so big that it made me feel like that freaky cat from Alice in Wonderland, and my eight-month-old daughter smiled back me. She squealed and her blue eyes shimmered the same way her father’s did when he was happy, while on her head the blond ringlets bounced back and forth.
“Hi, princess,” I said as I worked to get her out of the secondhand car seat we’d lucked into.
She squealed again, this time kicking her feet as well. She actually reached out for me, and it did something to my insides. Caused this pang in my chest that made it feel like she was holding my heart in her hand, squeezing it gently the way she did when she wrapped her fingers around one of mine. It was the most beautiful feeling in the history of the world.
I scooped her up and planted a kiss on her forehead as I turned. Michael was ready and waiting with the shitty umbrella stroller I’d managed to scrape up enough money buy. It was from Wal-Mart, so at least it wasn’t secondhand, but it was nothing compared to the fancy things I saw other moms pushing around at the park. Strollers that were made of chrome and converted for all the different stages in your baby’s life, that had baskets underneath so you didn’t have to lug bags around, and cup holders for that five dollar caffeine fix from Starbucks. Luxuries I knew nothing about.
None of that matters, I told myself as I strapped Cassidy into the stroller. One day things will be better. We have time to make something of ourselves. This is just a pit stop in our lives.
Michael was much better with the pep talks than I was.
I stood so I could look him in the eye, the man I loved so much. Our beautiful daughter was between us, strapped into the cheapest stroller money could buy. Next to us the rusty piece of junk that represented our only form of transportation sat baking in the sun, which wasn’t doing the already faded and chipped paint any favors. It had once been red, but now looked more on the pink side, which was a constant source of teasing between Michael and me. I loved pointing out how manly he looked driving around in a pink car. Not that he cared or complained.
“Tell me this is only temporary,” I said.
He couldn’t read my mind, but he knew what I was talking about. We had this same conversation several times a week. Every time a bill came in that I couldn’t pay or we had to spend the last of the money in our checking account on diapers. We were struggling, but we were getting through. Together.
“It’s only temporary.”
He flashed me another smile and I marveled at his straight, white teeth. Teeth that had seen the best orthodontics money could buy as a young teen. Teeth that represented someone who’d had parents who wanted perfection from their child. So much so that when he’d made a mistake they’d decided the only appropriate response was to cut him out of their lives and focus all their efforts on his younger brother.
“You’re happy?” I asked even though I knew he was.
“I’m happy.” He pulled the umbrella stroller back a few steps, maneuvering it behind our piece of shit car. “I don’t need a big house or lots of money. I just need you and Cass.”
When he held his hand out I took it, allowing him to pull me up next to him. I snuggled into his side, loving his body heat even though we were both sticky and gross from the hot summer day. He kissed the top of my head and I pulled back just enough so I could look up into his eyes.
“I love you,” I said.
“Love you,” he replied, and his grin stretched wider. “Now can we please get out of this damn heat?”
I laughed. “Yes. Please.”
He let me go so he could push the stroller and I linked my arm through his as we walked. The mall was packed today and we’d had to park near the back of the lot. In the stroller Cassidy kicked her feet excitedly and squealed. She was a happy baby, thank God, and had only gone through a few bouts of extreme fussiness during her eight months of life. Michael and I had been told by numerous people how difficult this would be, and they’d all been right. Having a baby at the age of eighteen with no help or support was hard, to say the least. But no one had told us how amazing it would be. No one had warned me that this little girl would steal my heart the first time I held her, or that seeing Michael rock her to sleep would make me love him more than ever. No one had told me that all I really needed to be happy were the two people at my side, and that cable and internet were a luxury I wouldn’t miss as long as I told myself that I was doing all of this so I could be with the man I loved and we could raise our baby together.
Michael could have made a much different choice, an easier one that would have had him at Harvard right now—his family Alma Mater—instead of struggling through community college while working forty hours a week. He could have chosen his family over me. But he hadn’t, and I was determined to never let him regret that choice.
I leaned my head against his arm as we walked. “Thanks for choosing me.”
“Thanks for being so amazing,” he replied.
Even with the heat it felt like a picture perfect moment, which of course couldn’t last when you had an infant in tow. We’d just reached the door to the mall when Cassidy spit up. I tried not to groan, but it wasn’t easy, especially knowing that I wouldn’t have the money to go to the laundromat for at least another three days.
Michael stopped outside the mall entrance and knelt in front of the stroller while I dug through the diaper bag I’d slung over my shoulder. Of course, I knew it was pointless. The bag was the only thing I could afford and it was way too small to fit everything I needed, meaning the extra clothes we had were in the car.
“I’m going to have to run back,” I said, holding the bag out for Michael to take. “Get her inside and out of the heat.”
He stood as he took the bag. “I can go.”
I shook my head just as someone passed us on the way into the mall. When they pulled the door open a burst of cool air swept over me and I almost groaned. All I wanted to do was walk around the mall in the AC for a few hours.
“It’s fine,” I lied and held my hand out for the keys.
Michael frowned as he slipped them into my hand, but he didn’t argue. I knew he was tired. He’d worked yesterday after staying up late so he could study for a calculus test, and then he’d been nice enough to let me sleep in when Cassidy got up at six in the morning. The man was a saint, so the least I could do was hike back to the car and grab the extra clothes. Heat or no heat, I owed him that much.
“I’ll be right back,” I said as I walked backward. “Go inside.”
Michael gave me one last smile
before heading toward the door.
I turned my back on him and headed across the parking lot, dodging pieces of gum that were baking in the heat and a now melted pile of ice cream that some kid had probably dropped. The sun was directly over me, beating down on my head like it was trying to scorch my scalp. My body was so sticky from sweat that I knew when I finally did make it inside the mall the first burst of cool air would feel too cold and uncomfortable. I could already imagine how the goose bumps would pop up on my moist flesh and how my already wet clothes would cling to my body, almost as if they had been suddenly frozen to my skin.
I unlocked the trunk when I reached our car and the hinges groaned in protest. A woman with two kids under the age of ten passed and gave me a disgusted look. I knew what her expression said, what she thought when she saw me standing beside this piece of junk. I knew that she could somehow tell my clothes were from Goodwill. I did my best to ignore her judgment, but it was impossible. It wasn’t easy getting used to being trash.
This is only temporary, I told myself again.
It took a few minutes of digging through the trunk’s contents to find what I was looking for, but only because I had so many just in case baby items crammed in there that finding the onesie was like going on a scavenger hunt. I held it up to make sure it was clean and a pang twisted my insides. I’d window shopped at baby boutiques countless times, wishing that I could get Cassidy one of the adorable ruffled rompers in the window or the frilly dress that was as impractical as it was beautiful, but this simple onesie was the best I could do. At least it had flowers on it. At least the pattern was pretty and the fabric was soft instead of stark white and scratchy.
I sighed as I slammed the trunk shut, still picturing the romper with the lacy butt and imagining what my little darling would have looked like crawling away from me in that precious little outfit.
One day she will have that, I told myself. One day Cassidy will have everything.
