27. Rook
Chapter twenty-seven
Rook
“I’m sorry, Mr Wills. We weren’t able to find out how he found her. I have our best investigators on it, and we won’t stop looking until we are able to work out the leak.” I pace the locker room attached to the team gym.
“Just fucking find him. It’s been three weeks. I want to know where the hell he is.” My phone creaks under the pressure of my tightening grip.
My mind flashes back to the vase of white lilies next to her bed. Mom was inconsolable by the time I arrived in Seattle. Even in her current state, the flowers served as a bitter reminder of the past we had spent so long running from.
“When we have something, you will be my first call” He quickly ends the call and I drop my head, leaning against the wall, focusing on slowing my breath down. I need to focus.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Fuck, this is all my fault.
Pushing myself off the wall, I stalk towards the double doors at the end of the hallway that opens into the team gym. I push on the double doors, probably harder than I should and I’m immediately hit with the smell of sweat, chalk and rubber.
A few other members of the team are already here, working through routines with the trainers. They glance my way, sensing my mood, but I ignore them and make my way over to the treadmill. I’d usually start my routine with interval sprints on the stationary bike, but I’m so worked up I need to run.
My headphones cover my ears, and I attempt to drown everything out with the loud, pounding beat. I increase the pace faster than I should. Instead of building into sprints like I should, I throw myself in, my sneakers slamming onto the belt, but no matter how fast I run, the memories keep catching up.
Her long blond hair is braided to the side, falling over her shoulder. She’s still wearing her apron from her part time waitressing job as she pulls our beat-up Ford Aspire in front of our latest rental house.
The cracked siding is more on the floor than attached to the house. The garden was probably once beautiful, now filled with half dead plants and grass that has more prickles than actual grass.
“Come now, min elskling, or we won’t have time for supper before your training,” she calls as she pushes open the car door. I drag my school bag from the back seat, groaning when it catches between the seat and gear stick as I push open my car door. The door creaks like something out of a horror movie as the metal scrapping finally gives way and I climb out.
The rusted pale blue hatchback shakes as I slam the door shut. I half expect it to implode from either the force or its sheer age.
I follow her up the cracked path, my bag now dragging on the floor at my feet. She turns to me, tsking as she points at the bag. I roll my eyes as I pick it back up and fling it over my shoulder.
I’m in my third school for the year and my second team. Even though the one-bedroom house is a piece of shit and I hate sleeping on the lumpy couch we picked up from a secondhand store the day we moved in, I still hope we can stay here at least until the end of the year. I’m finally feeling like I’m not the weird new kid and the guys in the team actually want to hang out with me.
I would happily put up with the lumpy couch that smells like moths, dust and old people, if it means I actually have friends.
“Mom,” I whine, trying not to trip on the cracks that spiderweb their way up the footpath. “Mike and Connor wanted to know if I could go out for pizza with them after training. They said they would get one of their moms to bring me home after.”
She stop walking and look back at me. An emotion I don’t understand fills her eyes. It looks like she wants to object, but I give her my best puppy dog eyes and prayer hands, hoping it will change her mind.
Her shoulders relax with the huff of a laugh. “I don’t see why not, min elskling.” She reaches out and tries to run her fingers through my hair. I pull away from her touch, and she swiftly pulls back, as if my dismissal has stung her. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I’m fourteen, I’m getting too old to be treated like a little kid anymore.
It’s hard enough being the weird new kid, but so much harder being the weird new kid whose mom insists on kissing him goodbye at the bus stop each morning or giving him hugs when she meets him at the gate after school.
“Mom, I…” She cuts me off with a finger before I can explain. It’s not that I don’t love her, she just can’t see that her little boy is now turning into a man.
“Hush now, gutten min, we don’t want you to be late.” She clenches her hand, resisting the urge to touch me again, and part of me is grateful.
I continue to follow her up the path but slide to a stop before running into her back. With one foot on the first step of the porch, her eyes dart around, scanning the yard and the street. Her hands shake as they grip onto my arms, pulling me towards her and then pushing me behind her as she continues to search.
“Mom?” I call out, my voice tinged with confusion as I track her line of sight, searching for the unknown danger. After she decides it’s safe, she swiftly pushes me towards the front door, her keys jingling as she struggles to unlock it.
The key finally slides home and with a click, Mom shoves her weight into the door, pushing it open before dragging me with her.
“Mom!” White flowers now lay trampled on weathered floorboards, my eyes flicking to the crisp white note that has fallen out of the trampled bouquet. Her grip on my arm loosens as her hands move to her mouth, fingers shaking as we both stare at the words scrawled in a thick red pen.
I’ll be seeing you soon.