Chapter Twenty-Five
Stealing Away
Royal
She wobbled slightly, drawing my undivided attention to her just before her knees buckled.
I darted forward, letting go of my mother a little more crudely than I would’ve ever intended.
Kennedy’s elbow connected with the floor, making an ugly sound.
I barely managed to heft her shoulder on one side in time to keep her head from bouncing off of it as well.
“You see,” my mother seethed, as if it were all my fault.
“I didn’t fucking do this.”
She took a deep breath and calmly crossed the distance between us.
“I know you would never orchestrate anything like this, but don’t be foolish enough to dance with the devil.
That evil bastard will leave you both in an unmarked grave and not lose a wink of sleep over it.
” Her eyes welled with tears and I knew she was inwardly walking on eggshells, terrified her words would send me over the edge if she didn’t select the right ones.
“What do you want me to do? I can’t make her run with me… Am I supposed to hold her as my hostage? What makes me any better than them, if I do that…?”
“The fact that she’d still be breathing.” My mother nodded, before adding, “You both would be.”
I scoffed, shuffling her from shoulder to shoulder while I watched her breathing.
“She agreed to go with you. Roy, get her in my car and go. Take the old one in the shed, put some bogus-ass plates on it and don’t look back.”
I huffed, and glanced toward the direction of the shed, even if the wall and my squatting stance prevented me from seeing it.
“She’s going to wake up and be clear headed. She isn’t going to follow through with it,” I protested, even as I shifted her weight and stood up, balancing her on my shoulder.
It wasn’t as easy as people made it look on television. I gripped her thigh and shakily made my way toward the shed.
My mother scampered ahead of us, opening the doors for me, before she darted back toward the house.
I didn’t even know if the damn thing would start. Who knew when she drove it last. I took my time setting her in the passenger seat and turning the key.
It made a pitiful sound that seemed to go on forever and ever.
I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or comforted by the sound. When the engine sparked to life on the second attempt, I gave a triumphant cry without intending to.
“Roy, take this. She needs something for lunch.”
“Right, right.” I snatched it out of her hand, suddenly eager to get her alone before she came back around.
My mother nodded, folded her arms nervously in front of her chest in an effort to hug herself while she studied me.
“I love you, please don’t ever forget that—” she tearfully began.
“None of that.” I stood, leaned forward, and pecked her forehead and then her cheek, “This shit will settle soon enough. Don’t worry about us.”
The urgency boomed in my chest, when Kennedy mumbled.
“That’s my cue,” I shot back into the driver’s seat, my ass still sticky with blood from the butcher’s shop.
“Be safe,” she called, as I rolled out of the shed.
“I love you. You be safe, too,” I called back, before adjusting the heat.
I made it as cozy as possible, turning the radio on low while I took the smoothest roads.
She began to snore, and the minutes turned into hours.