Something in the Water

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Something in the Water Page 10

by Teresa Mummert


  “It’s not that. I just have a lot of anxiety, and I guess I don’t concentrate as much as I should. Actually, I just prefer to be alone and read instead of doing some arbitrary worksheet that will determine how smart the world thinks I am. You can’t judge intelligence by mass testing, you know?”

  “Is that so?” The side of his mouth was pulled up in amusement now, and I wanted to run my finger over the thin slice that split it down the middle thanks to Marcus.

  “I’m serious. Don’t laugh at me.”

  “I agree, I just can’t imagine you getting anything less than an A on anything. Or that your parents would think you are somehow failing at something.”

  “That’s just because you don’t know me yet,” I joked, and his eyes lingered on me for a moment before he put the car in drive. “The truth is... they can’t figure out what is wrong with me...” My eyes met his, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time. “Because I won’t tell them.”

  “What happened?” he asked, his voice low, the muscles in his jaw ticking below the surface.

  “That’s between me and my maker, Ford Becket.” There were things I couldn’t say, no matter how badly I didn’t want this night to end. “You know, Marcus had a thing for me for a while,” I blurted out.

  “That explains the mean right hook.”

  I forced a laugh as I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah,” I swallowed hard. “I guess he’s still not over the whole thing.”

  “And you?”

  “I have this theory that my stepdaddy is his father. I can’t prove it,” I shrugged with a laugh. “I dunno, it’s something about his eyes.”

  “So that would make him your –”

  “Nothin’,” I interrupted. “He’s nothin’ to me.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Right about what? What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know you yet.” He shrugged as we slowly pulled back out onto the road. “The night is still young, and we have this bottle of alcohol. Seems like a shame to waste it.”

  I nodded in agreement, excited to see what the next held in store for us. I knew my parents were going to lose their minds when they realized I’d lied to them, but Ford was right. I’d never done anything wrong to make them question me.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, a thrill rushing through me at the possibilities of the unknown.

  “Does it matter?”

  It didn’t. Nothing before this moment seemed to matter. The rules and consequences all flew out the window as the hot, muggy air swirled around us as we traveled back into the night.

  “Alright. So tell me something else about you. Why are you living with Daven?”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “He’s my uncle.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I groaned, frustrated that he wasn’t giving me any answers.

  “Why do you live with your parents? You don’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice,” I countered.

  “Yeah, you always have a choice, but not the balls to do what you really want, right? That’s why I live with Daven. I don’t want to be there but –”

  “But you aren’t living every day like it’s your last,” I finished his thought.

  “Sometimes it’s just easier to give up and wait for it all to be over.”

  “Wow. You should put that on a greeting card,” I deadpanned, eliciting a small chuckle from Ford. As we turned out onto Highway 171, my phone chirped in my hand letting me know I’d received a message.

  “Great.” I dug my phone out of my pocket and swiped across the screen.

  “What is it?”

  “Ugh. My friend Bridget. I was supposed to be out with my brother tonight, but she went with him instead.” My eyes danced over the message, and my heart seized in my chest.

  “She said something is wrong with my brother. Oh, my God! Can you take me to Leesville?” My chest was tightening now, and I wished now wasn’t the time I was without my medicine. The last thing I wanted to feel was this panic. My breathing became labored as Ford drove toward Rosepine.

  “You okay?” Ford’s eyes were on me more than the road. I sent a quick reply asking what had happened, and my heart felt like it was going to explode as I waited.

  I nodded to reassure him, but my body felt like it had been electrified.

  “Take a small sip of this,” he grabbed the bottle of liquor and held it out to me. Hesitantly, I grabbed the neck of it and twisted off the top, tipping it to my lips.

  The liquid fire burned its way over my tongue and into my belly, instantly warming me. “Oh, God. That’s so gross.” The fun of drinking had worn off, but I took another swig, desperate for the calming to take hold.

  “Slow down,” Ford cautioned as he stepped on the gas. “You don’t want to overdo it. You need to be able to think.”

  All I could think about was something terrible had happened to my brother, and I wasn’t there to help him. Not that my brother had ever needed me to protect him. But he had always been there for me when I needed him, like tonight. The only reason he was out was to help cover up my lie.

  “Keep going past the Army base.” I took another drink and stared out of the passenger window, tears beginning to form in my eyes. Bridget hadn’t responded, and I felt like I was falling apart.

  “He’s going to be alright.” Ford’s voice was quiet, unconvincing.

  “You don’t know that.”

  He didn’t try to reassure me because he knew better than anyone that it might not be okay. Life didn’t always have a happy ending. Sometimes bad things happened.

  11

  FORD

  I wanted to promise Emery that everything was going to be alright, but my mind kept slipping back to the night I’d lost Taylor. I wasn’t with her when it all happened either. That was the worst part. I wasn’t able to comfort her and let her know it was going to be okay; that I was going to be okay.

  Watching Emery break down and not being able to make it better was killing me. If her brother was fine, I was going to kick his ass myself.

  As we pulled onto the street where her brother was, the lights of the ambulance and fire trucks bounced off the surrounding houses, lighting up the small otherwise quiet street.

  “Oh God,” Emery gasped as she put her hand over her mouth in shock. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “It’s going to be alright,” I assured her as I took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Putting the car in park, I waited for her to say something, but she just stared ahead as the medics wheeled out someone on a stretcher.

  “Is that him?” She asked, and I shook my head. I had no idea, and in the dark, I wouldn’t be able to tell even if I did know what he looked like.

  “We have to go over there.”

  After a few seconds, she nodded and gripped the handle of her door but didn’t open it. I got out of the car quickly and rounded the front of it to her side so I could help her out.

  She stumbled, but her hand gripped onto mine as she let me pull her toward the commotion.

  “Oh, my God. Emery, I am so sorry.” A shorter blonde girl threw her arms around Emery’s neck and pulled her against her chest.

  “Is her brother okay?” I asked, not letting them have their moment. I was pissed she hadn’t responded and caused Emery to panic.

  “They said he should pull through,” she replied as she pulled back to look at Emery. “Your mom’s going to ride with him to the hospital.”

  “Maybe you should have let your friend know that instead of making her worry,” I snapped.

  “Excuse me? She doesn’t seem so worried since you apparently got her drunk.” She waved her hand in front of her face to let me know she could smell it on her.

  “I’m not drunk, and will you please just tell me what the hell happened?” Emery snapped as she took a step closer to my side.

  “Your brother said he wanted to see a friend. I didn’t know this guy was some so
rt of dealer. I couldn’t have known.”

  “Bridget, it’s not your fault,” Emery cut off her hysteric rambling.

  “Emery Layne Elliot,” A booming voice called out as a figure crossed the road toward us. “Where in the hell have you been?” The man snapped, and Emery sank even further into my side as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t know? Maybe you would have if you had been out with him and not lied to us.”

  “Mr. Elliot, that’s my fault,” I spoke up, wanting to take his attention off his daughter who was already wanting to break down.

  “It’s Mr. Woodrow. Sheriff Woodrow. Who in the hell are you?” He asked as his eyes danced between us.

  “My name is Ford, I’m Daven Beckett’s nephew.”

  “Well, Ford, while I appreciate you taking responsibility, this conversation doesn’t concern you. I’ll have a talk with your uncle later. He couldn’t take care of his own family, why does he think I’d trust any of you with mine?”

  “It’s not his fault. He has nothing to do with this.” Emery stiffened, raising her chin.

  “Oh, you’re going to tell me that you running off with this heathen has nothing to do with the fact that you lied to me and now your brother is overdosing again?”

  “He’s overdosing because his heart is broken. I tried to tell you he was upset, but you didn’t listen.”

  “So it’s my fault?” He raised his voice, shuffling his weight from foot to foot. “Ever since I took you ungrateful brats in –”

  “Sir,” I interjected, raising my hand in hopes to defuse the situation. Emery was apparently feeling the effects of the alcohol, and she wasn’t thinking about what she was saying.

  “Mind your own damn business, son.” Her father swatted my hand away, and I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from losing my own temper.

  “Emery is my business.”

  Bridget’s eyes widened, and she let out a little squeal as Mr. Woodrow stepped toward me, his chest damn near against mine.

  “I’m not going to tell you again, son.”

  “I’m not your damn son.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. You’re not. You’re just some white trash kid whose own mother didn’t want him.”

  Every nerve ending in my body was begging for me to hit him, but I knew he would have me in handcuffs before he hit the ground. “No offense, sir, but isn’t your son the one laying on a stretcher because he overdosed on drugs? Maybe you should be more concerned about –”

  He swung, hitting my right eye and causing me to spin backward and stumble, just barely able to stop myself from hitting the ground.

  “Ford,” Emery screamed as she bent down to my side to inspect the damage. I could feel the warm trickle of blood, making its way down my cheekbone.

  “Why the fuck is everyone hitting me tonight?” I stood up and took one step before Emery’s hands were against my chest, preventing me from going after him.

  “Emery, get your ass in my car now. We have to wait for Bridget’s parents to get here and explain what happened and meet your mother at the hospital.” He turned to walk away, but Emery didn’t move.

  “No.”

  He spun back around, looking as if someone had actually hit him. “What did you say?”

  “Emery, I think we should just go with him,” Bridget interjected, trying to defuse the situation.

  “I said no. I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re not my dad.”

  “Emery Layne, if you don’t get your ass in that car –”

  “Or what? You’re gonna hit me too?” Emery was struggling again to keep from crying.

  His face hardened as he ran his hand roughly through his salt and pepper hair. His eyes went to me, and I stiffened.

  “If my daddy was here he’d –” She snapped, but he cut her off.

  “If your daddy wanted you, he’d be the one standing here dealing with your shit right now. All he cared about was himself, and look where that got him.” His eyes searched mine, and the coldness in his gaze sent a shiver rattling down my spine.

  “God’s watching you, Sheriff,” she spat, causing his face to harden.

  “Just take her home. I’ll deal with you both later.” His eyes bore into Emery’s. The anger between them palpable. With that, he took off across the street, Bridget struggling to keep pace with him.

  Emery looked at me, defeated before she lifted her hand and wiped away the trickle of blood on my cheek with the pad of her finger.

  “I am so sorry,” she whispered, but I just shook my head. Her stepdad was right about me. I was used to screwing up my own life, but it wasn’t fair to screw up hers too.

  The worst part was, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go after Daven found out about what I’d done.

  “Come on,” I went back to my car, pulling open the passenger side door and avoiding Emery’s worried gaze as she sank down onto the bench seat.

  I climbed into my car as my cheek thumped from the anger that still consumed me. I was glad I didn’t hit him, but I still wanted to. Especially after the way he talked to Emery. This wasn’t her fault, and the girl was already so fragile. The last thing she needed was the weight of her brother’s fuck ups on her shoulders. Or mine.

  As we headed back toward home, the night was giving way to morning, and I knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before I was on the road trying to find someplace to go.

  “I’m sorry about all of this,” Emery cut through my thoughts.

  “None of this is your fault.”

  “He didn’t mean any of that stuff he said about you. He doesn’t even know you.”

  “You don’t even know me, Emery. And what he said was right.”

  “So you think you’re just trash? You didn’t make me lie to them. In fact, you didn’t even know I did.”

  “Until you told me. And I should have taken you back home then, but I didn’t. I took you to a party and gave you alcohol. Not to mention the fight I started. Marcus was right. Your stepdad was right.”

  She flinched. “So what? I could have walked away at any time. I’m not some kid you were babysitting. I have a mind of my own.”

  “Then use it. You have a family and friends who love you. Don’t throw that away to have a little fun. It’s not worth it.”

  “Oh, you’re one to talk.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked as I turned into our housing area, my eyes catching my reflection in the rearview mirror. My cheekbone was slightly swollen, but the cut was tiny and wouldn’t need any stitches. That asshole must have been wearing a ring.

  “Nothing.” She turned to look out of the passenger window.

  “No, please tell me all about my life since you seem to know so much. Tell me about my loving father who used to beat the hell out of my mother and occasionally myself. Tell me all about my mom, who allowed it to happen for years before taking me away from everyone I ever knew. Enlighten me.”

  Her eyes scanned me for a moment before she looked away again. “You’re lying.”

  I parked the car in my driveway as my blood began to boil. “Well, maybe if we ever see each other again, I can show you my scars, but, for now, I have to go pack.”

  I got out of the car, liquor bottle in hand as I leaned against the quarter panel and took a healthy swig, flinching as the alcohol burned the fresh cut on my lip. I’d earned that one. After a few seconds, Emery got out too and slowly made her way to my side.

  “Did he really hurt you and your momma?”

  I took another drink.

  “What do you mean you have to pack?” She asked as she fidgeted with her fingers nervously.

  “Because once the sheriff has a talk with Daven, he’s going to send me back to my mom’s and I’m not going back there.”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to be with your mom?”

  “Because all I am to her is a reminder of everything she wants to forget. Go home, Emery
.”

  I began walking around her to the front door, and she grabbed my arm.

  “Let me talk to him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t speak to Daven. He’s just mad because my brother embarrassed him again.”

  “He’s right about me, and if I were your father, I wouldn’t want you hanging out with me either. I’m doing you a favor.”

  “How about you let me decide who I want to be around.”

  “Because you obviously have no sense of self-preservation.”

  I took another step, and she pressed her palms against my chest. I looked down into her hopeful eyes as she tried to think of the right words to keep me from leaving, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. I wasn’t stupid. I could see that she liked me. She wasn’t going to understand.

  “Why do you care anyway? I only hung out with you because I pitied you. Can’t you get that?”

  “That’s not true.”

  I laughed, but it stung deep in my chest to look into those wide, innocent eyes that trusted me. Why did she have to remind me so much of Taylor? Why couldn’t she just walk away and not give a shit about me like everyone else?

  Her hands remained on my chest, they were barely touching me now, and it hurt worse than any blow I’d taken tonight. The corners of her mouth tugged down as she fought against a frown.

  “Go home, Emery, where you belong.” Taking her hands in mine, I pulled them from my body, before stepping out around her and walked into the house without looking back. I couldn’t. I knew if I saw the fresh tears on her face, I wouldn’t want to leave her there. Her life was completely different than mine, but her hurt was the same. She wasn’t happy, and she just wanted someone who understood. I did, all too well. And that’s precisely why I had to walk away.

  12

  EMERY

  August 7, 2018

  Walking across the quiet street as the sun slowly began to creep up over the buildings, it felt like I was on another planet. A dystopian universe where the world was ending, but no one else could feel it but me. It was crushing me from the inside out, and it would only be a matter of time before I imploded.

  I’d had my chance to live on the wild side, and I’d failed. My brother was in the hospital, my stepdad blamed me for everything, and Ford didn’t want anything to do with me.

 

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