by Monica James
Tristan squeezes my hand, it’s soft but I can feel the plea behind them.
“Run,” he whispers as I meet his pained eyes. “I didn’t tell them where… but your dad, they… coming… here” and he begins coughing up blood, a sure sign his lungs have been nicked.
I wipe the blood with my shaky fingers. “No,” I whisper softly. “I’m staying with you.”
Tristan tries to shake his head, but the movement is unsteady.
“Run,” he whispers again.
His eyes flick to Quinn. “Go. Take… care… of… our… girl,” he breathes out, smiling at me.
“NO!” I scream when his eyes slip shut, his head lolling to the side. “Tristan! NO!” I sob, laying my head on his chest, the pain I feel breaking me in two.
I hear this heart beating faintly under my ear, and I turn hysterically to Tabitha. “How long till the ambulance gets here?”
“They said f-five minutes,” she stutters, looking down at Tristan, eyes filled with tears.
“Red, we gotta go,” Quinn says, looking at Tabitha, and gesturing with his chin for her to take his place.
“What? Are you crazy? I am not going anywhere until the ambulance gets here,” I screech.
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. I will not allow my brother to die in vain, so move,” he says again, with an edge to his voice.
I take one last look at Tristan, fresh tears spill from my swollen eyes.
“He’s not going to die,” I choke out, my hand caressing his cold cheeks. “Thank you,” I whisper, kissing his forehead, and I slowly stand up.
Tabitha has taken over Quinn’s place, her hand caressing Tristan’s brow, sweeping his blood stained hair out of his face.
“Mia, get my bag,” she says, indicating with her eyes to where she dropped it by the door.
I don’t question her, and quickly reach for it.
“Take my wallet and cell,” she says quickly.
“What? No,” I say, shaking my head.
“Don’t argue with me, we don’t have much time. Withdraw all the money from my credit cards, that’ll give you enough money to give you a big head start, and then destroy them. I’ll report my bag as being stolen in two days, so make sure you withdraw the money as soon as you can before my mother cancels my cards. Destroy your cell, you too, Quinn. Take mine, use it to contact me, and also so I can contact you.”
All this is too much, and I don’t know what to say, so I throw my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I have hugged her before.
“Thank you,” I sob into her shoulder.
“C’mon, Red, we gotta split,” Quinn says, both our backpacks strapped to his shoulder.
I eye him, wondering when he had time to pack a bag, and I remember him doing so last night. He knew that deep down, it would come to this. That we would be forced to run.
Standing up quickly and giving both Tabitha and Tristan one final look, I hope to see them again sometime soon.
Quinn grabs my hand, yanking me out the door, and we’re both running toward the truck, never looking back.
Lucky is running behind us barking, and my heart breaks.
I can’t leave him behind.
“Get in,” Quinn says to Lucky, reading my thoughts.
Lucky jumps in and I follow quickly, as Quinn has the truck rolling before I even have a chance to shut my door. We fishtail it down the road, and before I know it, we’re hitting the highway, leaving my nightmare behind.
We’re both silent, lost in our own train of thought, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to pull myself out of this mess and remain sane. The lives I’ve destroyed because of my selfish needs of finding the real me, have cost the people I love so much.
Love.
I get it now.
And it’s all thanks to a group of misfits. It’s because of them, because of their unconditional love, that I’m human again.
I look over at the man who has risked so much for me, a man who has secrets just like me, a man who is saving me from my past—a past which has cost him so much. And I bite back my tears because I have no right to cry.
He’s in this mess because of me; they are all in this mess because of me.
And Hank is dead because of me.
I have to make it right.
So I promise myself, here and now. I will seek retribution on the individuals who have wounded the people I love.
Even if I die trying, they will pay.
I never really understood the saying, ‘I’d rather die fighting, than die for nothing at all.’
But now… now, I get it.
Acknowledgements
This crazy journey has taught me so many things, and the following people took a seat near me, held my hand and came along for the ride.
My patient and ever supportive husband, Daniel. You are my true love and you're my best friend. Thank you for humouring me and putting up with my crazy talk.
Papa, you are the bravest man I know. I love you with all my heart.
Mum, you are the strongest, most determined person I have ever met. You are the glue that holds this family together, and I am so proud to be your daughter.
Fran, who would have thought our days of song writing, would lead to this! You're the same old person...yeaaah yeaaah!
Peter and Gayle, nothing is ever too much for you guys. You are both angels. Thank you for looking after the 'kids.'
Louise, I love you my friend, my angel. You are my sunshine on a cloudy day. You, Zachy, Jasperino, Boots, Charlie and Ian (Tom) are my forever family.
Gemma my twin, my princess, you are my Daisy Duker, and you're my sista fureva!!
Jaz, I can't even construct a sentence without smiling or laughing at our ridiculousness. You are my other half.
Buckwheat, Dacca, Mitch, Ninja and Jag, mummy loves you.
My beautiful fellow authors and friends, Lisa and Beth. You, ladies, are all class. Thank you for just being there.
Jo, thank you... for everything.
The day Something like Normal was conceived, was one of the best days of my life. I cannot begin to tell you how much I enjoyed writing this story, and I thank Limitless Publishing from the bottom of my heart, as they believed in me, and made my dream a reality.
All you amazing bloggers- honestly, you guys are MY rock stars! Keep doing what you're doing, as our love is a beautiful thing.
And lastly, thank YOU! To my amazing readers, YOU guys are the reason I'm lucky enough to be living my dream.
This Aussie loves you!
About the Author
Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne Rice, William Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson.
When she is not writing, Monica is busy, running her own business, but she always finds a balance between the two.
She enjoys writing honest, heartfelt and turbulent stories, hoping to leave an imprint on her readers, and her inspiration comes from everyday life. She is an Amazon bestselling author in both the US and UK.
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/authormonicajames
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/monicajames81
Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/author/show/6937440.Monica_James
Blog:
http://monicajames81.blogspot.com.au/