Ginny came tearing to the door at a dead run with a backpack bouncing along in her wake and almost knocked the old lady down. “Thank you for the fun time, Missy C. Bernadette says thank you, too. She’s polite!”
Mrs. Carmine giggled, a breathy, weathered sound.
Keaton got out his wallet, but she waved him off as Ginny squeezed past to run outside with her dog.
“Bye, sweetheart!” She patted Keaton on the shoulder and tears were falling down her face as she shut the door.
My heart ached. I wasn’t sure I could sit there while he told Ginny her mother was dead. She was so little. At least I’d had a few more years with my mother before the drugs got her.
“What do I do to keep Ginny?” he whispered, glancing at me as if I had all the answers.
I squeezed my arm around his waist. “Leave here and stay alive,” I muttered. “The rest is just paperwork.”
“I can’t take Ginny from everything she knows!” He spun, swayed, and then stomped away from me, leaving me rushing to follow.
Ginny wandered back from wherever she’d been to walk at his side. “You’re bleeding, Bubba!” She slapped his arm. “Are you okay?”
I grabbed her pink backpack to save it from the dirt on the ground, and she smiled in thanks as I slung it over my shoulder.
She bounced and the skirt of her neon purple sundress fluttered in the wind, dancing around her ankles. Her flip-flops smacked a bit with each step she took, but then I realized aftera moment she was purposefully making that noise. Cute and absolutely maddeningly annoying all at once.
Keaton nodded, and she seemed to take that at face value. God, it must be nice to be young and still able to trust the world. Was there a way to keep from destroying that today?
When we got back to the trailer, she bolted inside with her massive dog following at her heels. She went directly to the dog’s food bowl. I couldn’t help but be curious as she went to a corner and began to drag a bag of food that probably weighed more than she did toward the bowl.
“I’ll—”
I didn’t get the word “help” out before she tipped the bag, sending dog food scattering, then dragged the bag upright again. The dog happily chased the pebbles of food around, and Keaton said nothing, so I had to assume this wasn’t unusual. Ginny rushed to the fridge and flung the door open, then pouted dramatically at Keaton.
“Bubba! Mommy didn’t get milk like she said. Bubba! She said she would! Mommy!” Her volume had me blinking.Ouch.She ran into the bedroom, and I danced around dog food to shut the fridge door. I was leery of the dog, but it only huffed. I patted one giant, furred shoulder. There was no freezer on the fridge, so I couldn’t get ice for Keaton’s head. I was starting to get itchy in this place. There was literally nothing we needed here.
Sighing, I went over to the foldout where he had dropped onto his ass the second he’d made it through the door. I set Ginny’s backpack beside him.
“Let me take you to the store.”
He crossed his arms and shook his head, and my frustration mounted, reaching the tipping point. He closed his eyes.
“Mommy!” Ginny tore through the living room to the bathroom and stood at the door, frowning. “Where is she?” She tilted her head. The question seemed to be an internal musing,but she spun on her heel and stared at us with her hands on her tiny hips.
“Let me take you to the grocery store. Or I could arrange groceries to be delivered?” I dragged my phone out of my pocket. “Get some ice sent, too.” I frowned at his bump.
He shook his head. “No one delivers here anymore. Someone got held up last month and then every place refused. Lots of people are mad about it, but no one cares what we think here.”
My gut sank, and I fell to a knee in front of him, resting my hand on his cheek. “Let me take you to my place. These guys are gunning for you specifically. I can help you. If you won’t do it foryou, do it for my peace of mind. Or Ginny’s safety.” I glanced at her, and she was staring at us in interest.
That seemed to be the exact wrong thing to say. He scrunched up his face. “Leave.”
“Why?” I was genuinely baffled.
“We can handle this.” He thumped a fist to the mattress.
“How?” I held up my hands. “How on earth are you going to handle any of this?”
“I don’t know, okay?” he shouted. I hated the way his eyes went glassy with unshed tears.
Anger reared its ugly head. “If you won’t be reasonable, I guess I’ll have to leave you here with no food and a little girl you want to keep. You also have no way to get to work, right? No one to watch Ginny except an old woman who probably needs someone to watchher. Makes total sense to tell me to go fuck myself.” I hopped to my feet and paced away, knowing I should keep my cool, but why wouldn’t he just listen to me? Take the help? Let me fix this?
Let me slit those fucking jackals in two who’d probably given his mother drugs. They’d made his life harder.
