“Home free!”
He gave her a high five, jangled his keys. “See you around this weekend?”
“Hope so.”
“Night, Becks.”
“Night, JJ.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Josh.”
He stood a respectable distance away as she got into the car, waited as she turned the key and drove off back to Granny’s. Through the rearview mirror, she watched him wave as she pulled away, the memory of his warm hand covering hers a comfort asshe navigated the empty streets of Dahlia, a million miles from everything she’d ever been.
CHAPTER 30
Devon
Devon stood there, frozen in place, ears ringing from the mighty crash of Memaw’s china onto the kitchen linoleum.
“Don’t you dare!” Memaw’s eyes were wild and she held another heavy bowl, glared at her son. The roar in Devon’s ears grew louder, and he knew then the sound wasn’t the plates she’d dropped in anger, knew it wasn’t a car outside or anything but his own pent-up rage, threatening to boil over and destroy everything.
Only he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch.
T looked like he wanted to either run or smack her something fierce. One foot was poised, as if he wanted to hightail it out of there, leave the crazy far behind. The other, the one next to his tightly balled fist, was firmly planted. As Devon watched, T’s jaw clenched, and he could see the tendons in his uncle’s neck tighten like long, skinny bands.
“Maw, I’m warning you…”
The roaring got louder.
“You have no right, Terrence Jackson Robinson, no right at all to come in here and warn me. I might be an old woman, but I’ve seenmore than you’ve ever seen, and I’m sick and tired of—”
“That’s enough.”
T stepped forward, and the heavy bowl she was holding dropped, shards of white porcelain flinging across the kitchen like someone had left the blender on while making pancakes. One shot out, grazed T’s leg, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Simmer down, Maw, or …”
“Or what? You’re gonna punch an old woman, punch your own mama like you hurt your nephew? Your sister’s looking down from heaven right now …”
Someone was muttering stop it, stop it now, stop it right now, but it wasn’t T or Memaw, wasn’t anyone else in the room as far as he could tell, and almost like he was watching the room from above he suddenly realized the words were coming from his own lips and then they were hollering and screaming and he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t hold them back. The roaring in his ears exploded and he was on T now, standing between T and Memaw and screaming it out with all he had in him.
“Stop!”
And then Memaw staggered, like she’d lost all her breath in an instant.
“Maw?” T was staring at her, and Devon turned to look as Memaw sank to her knees, there among the shattered china dishes, clutching her chest.
“Memaw?” Devon had her in his arms now, and T was pushing him aside, shaking his mother’s weak frame.
“Maw, what’s wrong? Can you hear me?”
Wild-eyed, T turned to Devon. The look on his uncle’s face was pure, murderous fury.
“Call an ambulance. Now. And then get out for good. Don’t you ever come back or mark my words, boy. I’ll beat you. I’ll straight-up kill you.”
T shouted a few things after that, but Devon didn’t stick around to hear. He just ran. Ran next door to Mrs. Brown’s, used her phone, then ran to the trees, where he watched, numb.
Frozen.
Waiting.
