by eliza_000
Mr. Gordon winked again and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Karly alone with Emma. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Emma sighed and moaned over the rich, thick beverage. A stray sunbeam reflected off the mirror behind the counter and caught the gold strands in Emma’s abundant red curls. Karly studied the girl’s face with rapt fascination, drinking in every detail of the freckled cheeks and pale blue eyes. She was growing up so fast. Remorse and regret squeezed Karly’s heart. Poor decisions and unlucky circumstances had brought them to this moment. She shook them off, determined to make the most of their limited time together.
“You want one?” Emma raised a fair eyebrow and nodded toward the cookies. Crumbs sprayed the counter when she spoke.
“No, thanks,” Karly replied, restraining a smile. She was just so darn cute. “And don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s gross.” Emma opened her mouth and stuck out her cookie-covered tongue, eliciting a grimace from Karly. “Seriously. Don’t.”
Emma rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the hot chocolate.
“So how was school today?” At Emma’s insistence, Karly broke off a piece of one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge while she waited for an answer.
“Fine,” Emma said, avoiding her gaze.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. Stuff,” Emma replied. She swiveled on her barstool to face Karly. “Can we go to the arcade across the street?”
“Not today,” Karly said. Emma scowled. “Don’t change the subject. What happened at school today?”
The pert nose scrunched in irritation, an expression Karly recognized as one of her own. Emma swung her legs through the air, kicking the bar with pink and purple tennis shoes, until Karly placed a hand on her shoulder and frowned. Emma sighed dramatically, her shoulders drooping.
“Nothing happened. It was boring.” She returned to her hot chocolate, took a long drink, and smacked her lips in satisfaction. “Yummy-yum.”
“I saw Mrs. Pettigrew in the parking lot at the school while I was waiting for you. She said you’ve been late to school every day this week.” Karly squeezed Emma’s shoulder with enough pressure to cause the girl to scowl. “Look at me, Emma. What’s going on?”
Outside the store window, large snowflakes meandered through the air but couldn’t muster enough strength to coat the sidewalks. Emma stared out the window, brows furrowed, avoiding Karly’s gaze.
“Mom sleeps all the time, and she always forgets to wake me up in the morning,” Emma said with an apathetic shrug. The maturity in the gesture stabbed Karly in the heart. “I set the alarm on the phone like you showed me, but sometimes I forget to plug it into the charger.”
“She said you haven’t had any lunch all week either.” Despite the pink glow of Emma’s cheeks, the bones of her face showed through the milky skin. “What’s up with that?”
“Mom said there wasn’t any money.”
“What about Dad?” Karly swallowed hard, pushing back the anger erupting inside her.
“Uh, haven’t seen him all week,” Emma said. She took another sip of hot chocolate and smacked her lips together. “Can I have some more of this?”
“When’s the last time you ate, baby girl?” At the endearment, Emma stopped fidgeting and turned to face Karly. The embarrassment and hesitation in Emma’s eyes made Karly draw in a sharp breath. “It’s alright, Emma. You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I’m the one person in the world who will always, always be here for you.”
Emma rocketed off the barstool and into Karly’s arms with a force that nearly knocked them both onto the floor. Karly wrapped her arms tight around the thin body and squeezed with all her might, wishing she could pull the child inside her where nothing could ever hurt her. She buried her nose in the red ringlets and savored the scent of Emma’s strawberry shampoo while Emma clung to her.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Karly crooned, determined to hide her panic at this outburst. “Please tell me.”
“Dad never comes home anymore,” Emma said, her high-pitched voice muffled in Karly’s shoulder. “And Mom takes her medicine all the time. She said I’m a big girl now, and I’m not to bother her. That I can fix my own food if I’m hungry, but she never goes to the store. Sometimes the lady next door invites me to eat with her, though. She’s got a poodle named Tipsy.”
Oh, God. Karly hugged Emma closer while guilt and anger warred within her. The only person who could put a stop to this was her. She had to find a way to get Emma out of there, even if it meant quitting school and working minimum wage jobs for the rest of her life.
Chapter 6
When faced with an insurmountable obstacle, the only recourse was to get shit-faced drunk, a task Randy tackled with gusto following his departure from Pilar’s house. Two days later, he awoke in his apartment above Felony, clammy with sweat. His temples throbbed in time to his pulse. Every muscle in his body ached. He groaned and flopped an arm into dead space, his knuckles grazing the battered coffee table. No wonder he ached. In his drunken stupor, he never made it to the bedroom and spent the night on the freaking sofa.
The door to the apartment squeaked open. Jack entered, carrying a cardboard tray with two coffee cups and a bag of donuts. Randy sat up and placed his bare feet on the cool floor then scrubbed his face with both hands in a desperate attempt to sober up.
"You ever think about knocking?" He glared at Jack through bloodshot eyes.
"Why should I knock when I have a key?" Jack thrust the coffee toward him and raised his other hand to shield his eyes from Randy's nudity. "Geez, man! You got a zookeeper for that thing? Put it away, will you?"
Randy scowled, ignoring the coffee and the request. To calm his nerves, he lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. His stomach quivered in protest.
Jack set the coffee on the end table then took a seat in the lawn chair across from the sofa to enjoy his buddy's misery, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "What the hell happened to you last night, princess?"
"I don't remember a damn thing." Randy groaned again and gripped his forehead with both hands, ashes dropping from the cigarette still clenched in his fingers. “And stop calling me princess.”
“Last I saw, you were heading out the back with Amber.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Randy slid back down onto the couch and closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning. “Amber who?”
“The blonde chick, Amber Patrick,” Jack said with a smirk. “Nice shiner, by the way.”
Randy raised a hand to his face and winced as pain orbited around his left eye. “What the fuck?”
"So you don’t remember that either?” Jack said.
"Not really." A cold sweat beaded his brow. He wiped a hand across his forehead.
"Dude? Pants. You're going to give me an inferiority complex." Jack lounged back in the lawn chair, long legs outstretched, and eyed his friend. “You don’t remember someone dotting your eye. How’s that possible? Did she give you a roofie or something? I figured you were up here making the beast with two backs all night. I hope you wrapped that anaconda up in a raincoat.”
Randy stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray and took a swig of coffee. He had a vague recollection of running into Amber, going to another bar, and exchanging insults with some guy. The room swayed when he stood. For a minute, he thought he might upchuck on Jack's cowboy boots. When the nausea subsided, he pulled on a pair of gray sweats and a black T-shirt with the word Security printed in white on the back.
"No, she didn’t drug me, and I didn’t sleep with her. Not that it’s any of your business." Randy turned the conversation away from himself, swallowing hard against the bile in his throat. “You act like my grandpa. Next thing you’ll be telling me you’re getting married and moving to the suburbs.”
"So cynical," Jack said, but the grin on his face smacked of love. "What happened to you, man? You used to be all hearts and flowers and shit."
"My girlfriend got knocked up b
y someone else and left me. Shit like that turns a man off from love."
"Never too late, my friend. Love could be right around the corner for you."
"Now, I really am going to puke." He rifled through the pile of newspapers, magazines, and empty pizza boxes on the coffee table in a search for the aspirin bottle he’d left there yesterday.
With a sigh of pleasure, Jack lit up the last cigarette from the pack. "Maybe if you got laid, you'd quit being such a dick."
"Your preoccupation with my sex life freaks me out a little," Randy said. “Just because you have a cool girlfriend and you’re getting it every night doesn’t mean you have to rub it in. So lay off, will you?” He gripped his temples and groaned. “Where is the freaking aspirin?"
Jack grabbed the last donut from the bag. "Are you going to eat this or not?"
"Help yourself."
As his handsome face split into a mischievous grin, Jack pulled a bottle of aspirin from his pocket and tossed it at Randy. "I get it, dude. I do. This mess with Pilar and Caleb has you all stressed out. You helped me get my shit together when I found out about Chelsea. The least I can do is return the favor. So here’s my speech. Get a fucking grip. Chill the fuck out." Jack tipped the lawn chair back on two legs. It wobbled precariously under his weight. "You've always been the sensible one. Now you're acting like…like…"
"Like you?"
"No. Not like me. Like a fucking idiot." Jack scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. "You're twenty-six years old. With a kid. You and Pilar have been split up for almost a year now. I’m telling you to get the fuck over it and move on. Maybe it’s time to change things up a little. Get out of this ugly ass apartment. Find a real place.”
"What? And give up all this?" Both men laughed as Randy spread his arms to encompass the apartment above the bar, a non-descript space decorated with a ratty sofa, lawn chairs, and a cardboard box kitchen table. The one and only window, draped in a tattered bed sheet, offered a view of the brick wall next door. Rays of sunlight streamed around the edges of the makeshift curtain, illuminating dust motes in the air. “You lived here for almost a year. Are you dissing my crib?”
"Look, I don't give a rat's ass one way or the other. Party till you puke. But don't do it on my dime. We had another incident last night while you were off doing whatever it was you were doing. I needed you, man, and you were nowhere to be found." Jack’s brows furrowed in censure.
"Why didn't you say something last night?" A pang of guilt gripped Randy’s gut and sent a fresh stab of pain into his brain. After Caleb, his first priority was to keep the bar and its patrons safe.
"I didn't say anything because you were too fucked up to comprehend." Jack let the words sink in while he took another sip of his coffee.
"Dude, I’m truly sorry." He hung his head and shook it in sincere remorse. He took pride in his work, no matter how trivial it might seem to anyone else. "It won't happen again. So what went down?"
"That crazy fuck with the Mohawk was at it again. Chester caught him doing something shady in the men's room. Selling coke maybe? Anyway, he tried to bounce him. Shit got bad, and the dude broke a bottle over his head."
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, you know him. He's tough. Got a goose egg on the melon, but he'll be fine. Thing is, he quit. Said he wasn't bouncing a place like Felony without backup." Jack's dark eyes bore into him. The intensity made his ears ring. Only Jack could make him feel like he was in third grade again. "That leaves us with no one to bounce next weekend. And honestly, dude, I'm not sure you're up to it."
"I'm up to it. I've just been a little off my game." He clutched the aspirin bottle like an active hand grenade, with enough intensity to make his fingers ache. "Pilar's been all over my ass." He flicked the top off the aspirin bottle with his thumb, tossed a few caplets into his mouth, and washed them down with coffee. "I needed to blow off some steam. But I'm over it. No more distractions."
"She's getting married, you know." Jack's words fell on his ears like a bomb.
"What?" Randy sputtered. "To the asshat? And she didn’t tell me?"
"She wanted to tell you, but you've been acting like such a freak lately she was afraid you might go off…"
"Fuck." Randy threw the aspirin bottle at the wall. The lid popped off and the pills bounced onto the floor, rolling in every direction.
“…like that,” Jack said, nodding toward the aspirin strewn like confetti over the floor.
"Fuck," Randy said again. "I hate that guy."
"I know. I don't like him either.” Jack raised his hands, palms facing outward in a gesture of surrender. "He's good to your boy, though, right?"
Randy said nothing, too worked up for words. He drew a long breath in through his nose and exhaled through pursed lips in an attempt to calm the rage growing inside him. A second breath and then a third before the red-tinged periphery of his vision returned to normal. "I don't know. I guess so."
"Could be worse," Jack said with a philosophical shrug. "She could be with some street thug."
"Mitch is a thug," Randy said. "He's the worst kind. The kind with a badge."
"Well, there's not a fucking thing you can do about it, so you need to suck it up." Sympathy softened Jack’s words.
Randy sighed and hung his head. "If you're trying to make me feel better, dude, you're doing a piss poor job."
Chapter 7
When the next class came around, Karly arrived early and took a seat in the back of the room, away from the curious gazes and speculative stares. Randy entered a few minutes later, filling the doorway to the lecture hall with his tall, muscular frame. He wore his usual brown leather jacket with a gray hoodie underneath and faded jeans with a hole in the knee. The shadow on his jaw had darkened considerably since she last saw him. He scanned the room with menacing intent until his gaze met hers. He jerked his chin in greeting then strode down the steps to the front row and took a seat next to a cute girl with round brown eyes. Randy leaned down to whisper something in the girl’s ear. Jealousy shot through her. The girl responded with a bright smile and laid a hand on his chest in a way that suggested more than friendship.
Not my business, Karly thought and bent her head to the task of taking notes. Despite this declaration, her gaze continued to stray to the back of his auburn head and admire the way his broad shoulders filled out his T-shirt. Sensing her stare, he flicked a glance over his shoulder in her direction. Their eyes locked and held for a sizzling second. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a sexy smile.
An incoming text message vibrated her phone, forcing her to break the look. She opened the message to find a selfie of Emma standing in the schoolyard, long red curls tied into pigtails, a pink backpack over her shoulder and a huge grin on her face. The round blue eyes, so like her own except for the color, twinkled with excitement.
Emma: Thank u 4 the backpack. I miss you.
The prick of tears had Karly blinking rapidly. Emma’s huge, beautiful smile was enough to make her day. Her own smile widened as she typed a quick reply.
Karly: UR welcome baby girl. Love u bunches.
Emma’s immediate response washed away all the stress of Karly’s morning and brought her life into sharp perspective.
Emma: Love u more
Emma looked happy despite her adverse home life, and Karly intended to see that it continued. Whatever sacrifices she had to make were well worth one of those smiles. A renewed sense of determination swelled within her. Nothing mattered more than Emma. If she had to endure sleepless nights and forgo a social life, then so be it. Empowered by her declaration, she cast a final sidelong glance at Randy before turning her full attention to Professor Marks.
After class, a crisp and biting wind cut through her coat as she walked to the car. Deep in thought, she threw her backpack into the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel. Dead leaves skittered over the light dusting of snow in the tree-lined parking lot. Tiny confetti snowflakes danced through the air. When her gaze came to a stop on the da
shboard clock, she winced. Her next shift at the Thirsty Scotsman started in less than twenty minutes. If she didn’t get her ass in gear, she’d be late, and her boss, Scotty, was nearly as anal about punctuality as Professor Marks.
With the key in the ignition, she pumped the gas pedal three times and counted to three before she turned the key. This ritual had been successful in the past, but today the temperamental engine rattled and coughed. Nothing happened. She turned the key again and uttered a prayer. The words left frosty clouds in the cold atmosphere. After a third attempt, she popped the hood, jiggled the battery cables, and tried again. The engine groaned in protest, squealed like a cat caught in a trap, and backfired. The smell of burnt wiring and exhaust filled the inside of the car. Clenching her teeth, she went back to the engine and stared at it.
"What's wrong?" A warm hand touched her elbow, and a deep, rumbling voice rasped in her ear.
She jerked and banged her head on the underside of the hood. With a curse, she turned to see the responsible party and found Randy looming at her side in all his messy-haired bad boy deliciousness.
“Wow. That’s going to leave a mark. Are you okay?” Randy’s hand gripped her elbow, steadying her as he ran his gaze over her, assessing and questioning.
"This thing’s a piece of crap." She rubbed the knot on top of her head and winced. "It doesn't want to start in this cold weather."
“Me neither,” he said, amusement glimmering in his eyes.
With the air of an expert, he perused the dirty engine compartment. His long fingers jiggled the battery cables. A frown furrowed his brow. She leaned into the engine compartment with him and caught a whiff of his clean soap scent. Their gazes met over the carburetor. A hint of green and purple lurked below his left eye.
“Nice shiner,” she said.
"So I’ve heard. Occupational hazard." A grin curled his full lips. "Impressive, huh?"
“Only if the other guy looks worse.” She pulled her coat tighter about her as the wind whistled through the tree branches overhead. They were alone in the parking lot. Ominous clouds churned in a sky tinged with gray and lavender. Winter was eager to flex its muscle.