My thoughts whirled, and it only took me a couple of seconds to make some connections.
A few weeks ago, when we’d found the material about Romeo and his past on my mother’s computer, we’d been shocked to find out that he was not only a convict, but an escaped convict who’d covered up his own escape and ‘death.’
The thought that maybe Creed had the same kind of past as Romeo consumed my thoughts as he drove away from the house that’d once been a home to me.
Why else would he be here ‘doing weekly check-ins with Romeo and Apollo’ if he wasn’t a part of something more? Who the heck even did weekly check-ins, anyway?
And what was up with his sister?
What little he’d shared, him and his sister had been close once upon a time.
I’d asked a follow-up question of ‘is she was dead,’ and he’d blanched before saying, “No, she’s fine. She lives in Alabama.”
Which had, inevitably, been the final nail in the coffin.
Putting two and two together, I’d come up with four. Four being he’d been a part of the same prison break—or something very similar to it—that Romeo had been.
“I meant to come by earlier to tell you about what your stepdad was doing,” he said.
I stiffened.
“The county sheriff gave him a warning not to be sleeping in that neighborhood again,” he said. “He seemed to understand and heed it, because he left almost immediately after he was warned. If you see him out there again, let me know, and I’ll have my buddy take care of it.”
“Thanks,” I muttered darkly.
It creeped me out that he was out there sleeping on my street.
It creeped me out even more that he’d come to me of all people.
I mean, he and my mom had made it their life’s mission to make my life a living hell.
Tom may not have joined in on the beratement and verbal abuse over the years, but there was no way you could convince me that he had no clue what my mother was doing to us.
Honestly, I felt like he was just as dangerous as my own mother had been.
Five minutes later, he pulled into my driveway and went to get out.
I stilled him with a hand on his arm and said, “Thanks for the ride.”
He went to open the door, but I bailed, heading straight for my house.
I shouldered the front door open, then slammed the door closed behind me.
Only when the door was locked did I take a breath.
I didn’t know what it was about Creed that made me metaphorically hyperventilate around him.
Whatever it was, I needed to ignore it. Bury it into the deepest parts of my soul and forget about it.
Because there was no way in hell he would ever want anything to do with me.
Seven
Not bossy. Just aggressively helpful.
—Birdee to Creed
Creed
