My friends at school had bailed on me. My father had promised his soul to my mom and then had bailed on us. Someday, I would make that same promise, and I hoped like hell I’d never have to break it.
“Mom, what can I do? What can we do so you can breathe again?”
Tears rolled down her face in waves, and her bottom lip trembled. “Move.”
My mind fought to catch up to her word. “To where?”
She shook her head in building frustration. “I don’t know, and I don’t care, but I have to get out of here! I think it’s my only chance!” She began to unravel. “I-I am fighting to live—”
Desperate not to let even another piece of her sanity slip away, I grabbed her, trying to hold her together. “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll go. I’ll find somewhere, and we’ll go.”
I held her tightly, but my mom still fell to pieces in my arms that night.
Chapter Two
Summer came, the school year ended, our house sold, and that meant it was moving time. We moved from Atlanta to a small town south of there. Atlanta lacked the accents and manners usually associated with good old Southern folks, and I believed a little country town where nobody knew us was just what we needed. Apparently, my mom agreed because she packed up boxes and hired movers.
Good-byes were incredibly easy with no family or friends to speak of besides Coach. Tara tried to bring on the waterworks and the dramatics with my departure, but I refused to be fooled twice by alligator tears. I did, however, accept the good-bye fuck she offered. Even though the sex lacked the excitement and thrill it used to have, it was all worth it when I stepped out of the school broom closet, buttoning my pants, with Tara following, adjusting her shirt.
Smith, her current sucker, was standing by her locker when we walked out, his jaw dropping. In a sweet-revenge kind of way, I returned the smirk he’d given me earlier that year. “Hey, Smith!” I sang out.
Tara froze. “Busted!” I whispered in her ear—loud enough so he could hear, of course, “Thanks for the good time, babe.” Then I looked at him and said, “Take care, Smith,” as I departed with a happy strut.
Final round? Won by Maverick. Score!
Mom and I, with Bailey in tow, ran as fast as we could from our devastating past, but some things you just can’t escape. Grieving is one of them. No distance was great enough for my mom to forget my dad and all he’d been to her.
We painted walls and organized furniture, but with every box we unpacked, memories pelted us. Even though we hadn’t left a forwarding address, slowly but surely, misery appeared on our doorstep, and my mom sank even deeper into grief. Nothing had changed. She was still alone.
The only difference was now Bailey and I were as alone as Mom was. We had no friends and nothing familiar, just a depressing home environment. New walls could not shield us from our terrible loss.
With the inside of our new home all set, it was time to tackle disaster number two: the outside. I was so thankful for being outside in the sun while taking care of the yard. For mowing the lawn, I took off my shirt to soak in warming rays and shook off the fog that lingered around Mom. Our new home, which sat on two acres, was a rundown two-story wooden house with light-blue paint chipping away.
Coach’s wife had told us what to look for: a low-priced house with cosmetic issues only. The realtor had said, “It’s a fixer-upper but will give you a good return with some TLC, when you decide to sell it. You good with a hammer?”
I had nodded and instantly tried to shut down my thoughts of how Dad had taught me to do my own repairs. As soon as he entered my mind, I felt a pain I wasn’t ready to deal with. There was already too much on my plate, and I was just trying to survive.
After an inspection declared the house had solid walls, no termites, no problems with plumbing or electrical, and only cosmetic issues, my lawyer approved it, and I bought our new house. With the money from the sale of our much nicer home, I paid in cash and put the rest toward the investments my lawyer had made with the settlement money. She’d told me my dad had a substantial nest egg, and if we budgeted properly, we could live off that for quite some time.
Our few neighbors lived in old homes similar to ours, but those had been properly kept over the years. I became entranced by the inviting dirt road and wondered what our new town had to offer.
Little Peanut, running across the yard, pulled me back to reality. She had a glass in her hand that spilled liquid with her every step. “I made you sweet tea!” As she leapt into my arms, the remaining fluid dripped down my arm.
“You did?”
She nodded while handing me a mostly empty glass with a concerning amount of sugar clumped at the bottom. Not daring to deny her hard work, I tilted the glass and accepted my sugar rush with a wink and a smile.
“You’wre sweaty.” Bailey winced, looking at her wet hands.
Still trying to swallow sugar goo, I agreed. “Yes, I think I need a shower when I’m done.”
Little fingers nervously tangled in the hair coming down the back of my neck. “Arwe you almost done?”
I knew why she asked, so I nodded. “You okay?”
A guilty whisper came to my ear. “Mommy is sad again.”
Just like me, Bailey didn’t want to feel the darkness consuming my mom’s afternoon. The sweet kid needed a distraction. “Wanna help me?” She excitedly nodded, so I teased, “I don’t know if you can handle it—”
Before I could finish, she yelled, “I can! I can!”
Bailey was adorable as she ran around the dilapidated front yard, picking up sticks so our push mower wouldn’t get jammed up. She proudly showed me her overflowing arms. “Look how strong I am, Mavowick! I’m just like you.”
After my shower, I cooked chicken and steamed broccoli. Bailey sat in her booster seat, attached to a dining-room chair, and chomped away. Mom nibbled, forcing herself to eat so I wouldn’t worry. She had dropped at least ten pounds with her lack of appetite. Seeing how she was only a buck fifteen to start with, that was a lot of weight to lose. Bailey stopped chewing the food in her mouth when our mom said, “I think I’m going to get some rest.”
It was only seven o’ clock. My stomach clenched. “I’ll take care of your plate.”
Bailey went a little pale as she watched Mom walk up the stairs.
“Peeeanut,” I sang out to her from my squeaking dining-room chair.
Worried little hazel eyes looked at me. I wondered if that was how my eyes looked.
“I feel like licorice.” I grinned because I was pulling out the big guns.
Worry left the little eyes, which were quickly lighting up. “But I’m in my pajamas.”
“Oh well. If you’re not wearing slippers, we can’t go to the mini-mart.”
She jumped off the booster chair and ran on petite legs to the front door and back to me in a flash. Bailey stood with a smile and Scooby Doo slippers in her hands.
I buckled a happy girl with funny-looking slippers into her car seat. I could have bought a new truck with the settlement, but this one was my dad’s truck. If the old green Ford was good enough for him, it was more than good enough for me. I used to envy friends with new cars. My father had told me I would appreciate the nickels in my pocket. He was right; I did.
The local mini-mart, Gas & Chic, was a lifeline after the grocery store shut down for the night. A local guy at the hardware store had told me that Gas & Chic had the best fried chicken around. He also said he’d never admit that to his mama because she would hit him upside his head with her “chicken frying” pan. Yeah, that character had me laughing out loud.
Looking out my dad’s windshield, I exhaled heavily when I saw a couple guys my own age. Being the new kid in town for my senior year wasn’t going to be easy. I opened my door, hoping the local boys wouldn’t choose to give me a hard time with my Peanut present; I didn’t want her to witness me killing some punk for upsetting her.
A shorter, stocky kid with a cowboy hat went into the store while I walked around the front
of the truck to get Bailey. The other dude, a lanky character, was yelling into his cell phone and pacing by an old Chevy truck. “Yes, I hear ya, girl! The whole world can hear ya carrying on!” They both appeared to be my age.
School having not started yet gave me the solitude I desired. If my so-called friends in Atlanta couldn’t understand my situation with Bailey, no teenage strangers would. A plan to keep my distance was in place. I preferred not to experience any more rejection or ridicule.
Inside the store, Bailey’s fingers snatched up a small package of red licorice, but her eyes kept glancing at the larger package. I chuckled and pointed. “You want that one?” Her pixie face peered up at me, and she hesitantly nodded with shameful eyes. What child at such a young age could already have the heart to try to save money for her family? My little sister. I was so fucking proud of that little girl.
I knelt down. “You have been such a good girl helping me with yard work today that I think you deserve the big one.”
She gasped as if I had just offered her the world. I would if I could.
“But you have to share,” I warned. She was more than willing, of course.
With one of her hands in my palm and the other holding a half-chewed piece of licorice, we stood in line to pay. Bailey looked all around, inspecting her surroundings as she waited patiently for me to finish purchasing her treat. “Do you like licorwice?” Bailey asked someone behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the young guy in the cowboy hat.
After preparing for him to be a jerk about it and ignore Bailey, I mentally sighed with relief when he smiled at her. “It’s one of the best candies in the world.” His country accent was thick as could be.
Bailey started nervously gathering her nightgown in her hand, practically exposing her Dora panties as she bashfully twisted her body and PJs from left to right. “Mavowick says I should sharwe. I would like to sharwe with you.”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one Bailey could win over. Cowboy Hat balanced his items for purchase in one arm and squatted to her level. “You have made my night, Scooby Doo. Who’s Mav-o-wick?”
Bailey let go of her PJs and hugged my leg. With her cheek on my thigh, she peered up to me. “My big brwotho.”
My hand with her licorice package rested on her back as the other reached around to shake his, introducing myself. “Maverick Hutton. How’s it going?”
Cowboy Hat stood and shook my offered hand. “Cole Coleman. Hey, you the ones who just moved in on Beacon Street?”
Here we go.
I nodded. “A couple months ago.”
“How ya likin’ it here so far?”
Handing over cash to the man at the register, I answered, “Still settling in. Haven’t had a chance to see much.”
Cole Coleman laughed as he approached the counter. “Not much to see, my friend.” Paying for his drink, he said, “But we find ways to stay entertained.” The cashier huffed and rolled his eyes, and Cole laughed at him. “Bill, at least I stopped stealing beer!”
Bill shook his head. “Only after your mama threatened to burn down my damn store.”
I lifted an eyebrow as Cole received his change. He grinned, proving his guilt. “My mama is on my ass like no other.”
An unexpected pang of jealousy stung my chest when I thought how my mom couldn’t care less. As we moved out of the way for the next customer, Bailey reached her arms up. She wanted to be a part of the conversation and was not succeeding from the ground level. I picked her up, propping her on the lower part of my arm like my dad used to do. He’d once told me, “This way, her little dress doesn’t ride up. Every time your mama sticks Peanut on her hip, her little butt is exposed for pervs to see.”
Bailey pulled out another piece of licorice and handed Cole what she had promised. He accepted it. “Thank you, ma’am.” Taking a bite, he asked me, “You still in school?”
“Yeah. A senior.”
“Hey, me too. Waited all my life for this year.”
Me too. Too bad it’s gonna suck!
Heading back outside, the lanky guy met up with us. He had on beat-up cowboy boots that were so big they looked like skis. I was six foot one, but this skinny guy had me beat by another two inches. It made him and stocky-cowboy Cole look like a comical pair.
Lanky’s darker hair was tussled, and his fingers kept nervously running through it while he yelled into his cell. “Damn, female! I’m coming!” He ended the call, telling Cole, “My ball and chain is all over my shit. We gotta go.”
Cole ignored Lanky, as if that kind of bitching was nothing new, and introduced us. “This is Maverick.” Then he winked at Bailey. “And this little one here, who is more than willing to share her candy, is…” He smiled at Peanut, waiting for her to tell him her name.
She shyly leaned her head into my shoulder and spoke around the licorice in her mouth. “Bailwey. I’m Bailwey.” She laid her palm on my cheek. “This is my big brwother, Mavowick.”
“Hi, Bailey,” Lanky said, not judging her impediment. Then he put out his hand for me to shake. “Big-brother Maverick, nice to meet you. I’m Houston. My mom dreams of the big cities, but I like small towns, so call me Hu.”
I busted out laughing. “What an introduction.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “Hu don’t get out much.”
“I’m never getting out again if my ass don’t show up at Bryce’s in five minutes.”
Cole pulled his keys from his pocket. “All right. All right. We’re out.”
Stepping backward toward my truck, I said, “Nice to meet you both. Take care.” There was an ache of envy for the night they were getting to have, but the angel in my arms was enough to snuff it out.
About to put Bailey in her car seat, I heard from behind me, “Maverick, why don’t you come and meet some local folk, hang out for a bit?”
I turned with regret, because after meeting these clowns, that would have rocked. I pointed to Bailey in my arms. “Got the little sister tonight.” Expecting that to be the end of the conversation, I turned back to my truck to load up Bailey.
“So? Bring her,” Cole rebutted. “Jazebelle has her sibling. We’re laying low tonight.”
I didn’t know how much I wanted a new group of friends till I heard the offer. As I was eying the soda bottles in Cole’s bag, thinking it didn’t look to be a heavy-drinking event, Bailey asked me, “What’s a sibwing, Mavowick?”
I kissed her little cheek. “A brother or sister. You’re my sibling, like I am yours.”
She looked to Cole. “A wittle sibwing?”
“Little. Use your L, Peanut,” I whispered, hoping these guys would continue their patience with her because Ls just needed a friendly reminder for Bailey to try harder.
The guys waited as Bailey shaped her lips and communicated with her tongue. “A l-little sibling?”
Acting completely unaware of what he just witnessed, Cole said, “Yep, a little girl to play with.”
Gasp!
I laughed. “Does that mean you want to go?”
Anxiously nodding, Bailey leapt from my arms and into her car seat. I tried catching her as I said to Cole, “I think that’s a yes. I’ll follow you.” As I buckled Bailey in, she smiled and chomped away on her treat. Some kids her age would have been in booster seats, but Peanut was just too little. My dad had said, “Until she’s bigger, we must always buckle her and check that she’s in tight. You never know what asshole might crash into you.”
I thought about the asshole that took his life. Drinking and driving fucking sucks.
I followed Cole’s muddy white Chevy crew-cab dually to a house down a dirt road. Everyone seemed to live on a dirt road, including me. Grabbing Peanut from my truck, I heard, “Bailey, don’t forget your licorice!”
She excitedly crawled into my arms, waving her candy. “I didn’t, Cole!”
As he opened the door to the modest one-story country home, I noticed no one was in the front living room. I heard music playing, but it wasn’t too loud. The only l
oud thing came from a heavyset brunette, yelling to Hu from a couch. “My God! It’s about time!”
Oh, that must be the ball ’n chain.
Hu left us to hand her a Coke and a candy bar. “I said I was coming! Damn.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “It’s never ending.” Then he took off his cowboy hat and set it on an old entertainment center before leading us into the kitchen.
Two guys and three girls were sitting around a table next to the kitchen, playing a card game. Two guys who looked identical stood behind one of the girls, who had short black hair. She was saying something to a guy in a baseball cap sitting to her right. The twins behind her were laughing at her comments and drinking beer.
“Shut UP! I have three bucks in this game,” the guy wearing the baseball hat jokingly yelled to her in the ongoing conversation. I couldn’t help but chuckle as everyone booed him.
“We’re big spenders,” Cole explained to me then said to everyone else, “Hey, gamblers and sinners, this is Maverick and Bailey.”
The girl with short black hair shrieked. I almost jumped at her reaction, but what she had to say set me at ease. “A playmate! Hailey! Come meet Bailey.” Then she looked back at me and Bailey. “Hi, I’m Jazebelle.” Jazebelle looked as though she was always willing to have fun. Her smile lit up the room. She was cute, a little too small—all the way around for my taste, but definitely cute. I wouldn’t have gone there anyways because the two behind her seemed to be competing for the vicinity around her.
“Maverick. Nice to meet you.” I asked Bailey, “Can you say hi?”
She shook her head but gave a little wave. Jazebelle kept smiling and waved back. “You are too cute, Bailey. Who’s holding you?”
Bailey’s little palm lay on my cheek, rubbing the hair on my face, as she whispered, “My big brwotho.”
An attractive dark-blond girl to the left of Jazebelle looked up and over her cards. “Bailey and Hailey? God, that sounds adorable.” She was more my style. Sorry, but that was the truth. I hadn’t been laid in a couple of months; therefore, every female within a twenty-mile radius had become a possible prospect and got inspected as such. The blonde had a subdued yet sharp-minded feel about her. “Mavy, you the new guy on Beacon Street?”
Steal Me (Haunted Roads Book 1) Page 2