Run (5 page)

“Kendall,” Mason said, quietly pleading from the other side of the door. The sound of his voice made me cry even harder and I was now sobbing uncontrollably.

I knew Mason, and I knew he was on the other side of the door with his forehead pressed against it—frustrated because he hated to see me cry. Hell, I hated crying.

“Kendall, will you come out? Come out and let’s talk about this,” he said trying his hardest to get me to talk to him.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was wild from running. I shook my head—I was a mess.

“Boy you can sure be a baby,” I said to myself. I splashed some water on my cheeks.

Crying never fixed anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as soon as I showed myself. I sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching my stomach. My nerves were all over the place.

“It’s not your fault, Mason. This is all I’ve ever known. I’m scared.”

He slipped a hand in the front pocket of his jeans, fumbling for a minute before he pulled out an envelope. He shook the contents into his palm and showed me.

“What the heck?” I studied the diamond rings and loose stones.

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “All we have to do is make it out of here and find a crappy pawn shop. This could get us far…I know it could.” He pulled my face toward him and planted a kiss on my lips.

“What are you saying, Mason?” I asked, running a hand through my hair.

He put the jewelry back in the envelope. “I’m saying you don’t have to go with her. We can get out of here…just the two of us.”

I swallowed. The thought of it was enticing but scary. Mason and I taking off was no better than what was happening now. “What kind of life could we really have?”

“Whatever you want. I know it could be better than this,” he said, looking around the nasty room.

“Wanda and Payton will go ballistic.” My heart was beating a million beats just thinking about it.

“We know so much. What could they really do?” He grabbed my bag from the floor.

“I don’t know,” I said, my mouth going dry. He smoothed my hair. He knew how hard this was for me. Wanda was the only person I had—even if she was cruel.

“Stop thinking about her and think about yourself for a change. This shit does
not
get better, Kendall.”

“I know.” I sighed.

“Just imagine what it could be like. We could go wherever we wanted. We wouldn’t have to do anything like this ever again,” he said, squeezing my arm.

Just then, the door opened and Payton snatched the envelope from Mason’s grip. I watched Mason’s face change from hope to humiliation—his dreams of getting away shattered in just an instant. It was as if someone stuck a pin in him and his hopes deflated right before my eyes.

Payton headed for the bathroom not looking at either of us. Wanda walked in—her hands were dirty and her hair was a mess. The braid I’d made earlier nearly undone. I noticed the scratches on her arm as she pulled off ring after ring, setting them down on the dresser

“We’re going to clean up and then we are out of here,” she said, dropping her head down as she undid her hair.

I looked at Mason, biting my tongue. He shifted in his seat, taking a long breath and then he finally said something. “What’s the plan?” He leaned forward.

I followed his gaze to Wanda. She kicked her shoes off. “We leave Florida, go into Alabama. I know a couple there,” she said. Mason jumped up, irritated. He looked ready to explode.

“Are they coming with us?” I blurted before Mason tried to strangle her. We both waited for an answer from her.

“You’ll survive. These people are not the kind to invite a bunch of strangers into their home,” she said, blowing us both off.

“Mason and Payton are only two more people. I think we’d be better off
with
them,” I argued.

“Mason’s a big boy--he can take care of himself,” Wanda said, collecting her things. My heart sank. I stared at the floor, heartbroken at the thought of leaving Mason.

“This is fucked up,” Mason said. “We can all go together and stay somewhere else.”

Payton came out of the bathroom. She grabbed him by the shirt shoving him. “Shut your mouth! You’re worrying about the wrong things. And I’ll lay you out, Mason Vaughn!”

I gripped the comforter. I felt bad for him.

“No. I’m not shutting my mouth. We go to Alabama or I’m done with this bullshit,” he said.

“Who are you my god damn husband? We go where I say we go,” she said, slapping him in the side of his head.

“We go to Alabama or, so help me, I’ll turn you all in.” He was serious and I believed every word coming from his mouth.

Payton’s eyes darkened. “You can’t see Kendall in prison,” she said testing him.

Aunt Wanda stopped what she was doing, waiting for Payton to pull it together.

“I wouldn’t be the only one not seeing anything,” he said back.

“Get your shit!” she said. She shoved him out of her way   leaving the room and slamming the door behind her. I looked at Mason in disbelief.

He opened the door. Payton was outside…fuming. “Is it Alabama?”

“Yes, Mason, it’s Alabama. I should shoot you in the god damn head. I can’t believe my own son would treat me like this.” Aunt Wanda stared Mason down. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I was sure it was something awful, though, and something I didn’t want to know about. She slammed the door and left us alone, giving us a chance to celebrate.

Mason lifted me off the ground, giving me the biggest hug he could muster. I squeezed him back.

“It’s working out. Just a little while longer,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

Alabama, the Yellowhammer state. I knew nothing about the place.

“I heard they have Hitler’s typewriter here,” Mason said, breaking the silence that hung in all corners of the car. We were crammed in like sardines, the truck left behind.

Payton ignored him. She was still upset with him over his act of defiance back at the motel.

I watched her sulk, staring out the passenger-side window in the front seat. She was a beautiful woman…barely forty. I imagined she could have done anything she wanted to at one time in her life. Why she’d chosen this path, I wasn’t sure.

She was oblivious to just how awful she really was and how ugly it made her.

As she rested her chin against her palm I was reminded that Mason had her eyes.

“What would Alabama want with his typewriter?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Mason placed his hand on top of mine and smirked. “I don’t know, but that’s got to say something about them.” He leaned back.

“What does it say? That they welcome psychopaths and their writing utensils?” I said.

“Then we should be right at home,” Mason said, and he started to laugh. I smirked as I looked out my window.

Several hours later, we were pulling into a long driveway, toward a white house. The house was old but well maintained. The brick chimney on one side jutted straight to the sky.

The porch was enclosed giving way to a beautiful staircase that lead up to the front door.

I counted fifteen windows just on the front of the house.

Aunt Wanda twisted around in her seat. Mason was still asleep. “I’ll do the talking. Keep your mouth shut. If they ask, Payton and Mason are relatives. No specifics,” she explained, pointing a finger at me.

Payton slapped Mason in the leg waking him up. “Listen…before you screw everything up! We’re all related, you got that?” She glared at him.

Mason yawned and checked out the house through his window. “Yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, Mason. That means no touchy feely with Kendall,” she warned him.

“We’re in Alabama—doesn’t everyone date their sister here? Who the hell cares what they think about us,” he said, climbing out of the car.

Payton let out a sharp breath as she  got out of the car. Mason was moving further and further from her clutch. I was proud of him, but part of me worried he was going to push it too far.

Mason and I followed behind the two of them. Aunt Wanda never said who these people were, so I had no idea what to expect. From the looks of their home, they were well off…and possibly normal.

Aunt Wanda fluffed her hair and stabbed the doorbell with her long nail.

The door opened. I looked at my feet, afraid to look at the person standing before us.

“Well, if it isn’t Wanda Oaks in the flesh,” the man said. It sounded like he was actually happy to see her.

Mason looked away, stifling the laugh trying to escape his throat. Aunt Wanda accepted his embrace. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two of them. He was around her age, a head full of thick brown hair. He looked like the kind of guy that prided himself in his hair. I imagined when he got out of the shower he probably slicked it back with the comb all nice and neat.

The way he stood before us, I could tell he was a confident person. Why did such a person like Aunt Wanda?

“We weren’t sure you would make it in time for breakfast,” he said, moving to the side, welcoming us into his home. He winked at me and smiled. I smiled back, afraid to act strange in his presence.

Mason looked around. Payton elbowed him in the side keeping her eyes on Roger.

“Anna is just finishing up breakfast. And as soon as she is done we can all sit around the table and catch up while eating a good meal,” he let us all know.

“That sounds great, Roger. Is there somewhere we can put our things?” Aunt Wanda asked.

I almost choked. Roger took her by the elbow and guided her through the hallway.

“Ya’ll can follow me. I’ll get everyone settled,” he said over his shoulder to the rest of us.

We headed through the kitchen. The aroma of rich foods invaded my senses. I caught a glimpse of a petite blonde slaving over the stove.

“We have a guest house. It’s rather nice…lots of renovations. It should suit the four of you well,” he said, moving across the lawn. We stopped in front of a white duplex. A long staircase on the left led straight to the second floor.

“There are two beds upstairs and three beds down, whatever you like. I’ll get out of your hair.” He smiled.

I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and he touched my shoulder.  Looking to Wanda, he said, “What’s this one’s name again? This is your niece right, Wanda?” He smiled, looking me over.

“This is Joy-Ann’s daughter, Kendall,” she said. She usually sounded like she was chewing nails when she said my mother’s name, but not this time. That was unusual.

“Nice to meet you, Kendall. You sure do favor your mother, don’t you?” He brushed my hair away from my shoulder and his finger grazed my earlobe.

I was parched and fumbled for words.

“Yeah, she’s got a lot of Joy in her,” Wanda said, speaking for me. She said her goodbyes and shoved me up the stairs once Roger was out of sight.

“Roger knows my mom?” I asked, once we were in inside.

Aunt Wanda dropped her suitcase on the floor. She squirmed out of her fake sweetness, shedding it like a snake sheds its skin. It had to be hard for her. Who knew a woman so horrible even knew how to act nice.

“Roger grew up in our hometown. His family and ours knew each other.” She left it at that.

I didn’t remember ever seeing Roger. So I took her word. For some reason, he was fond of Wanda and my mother. I’d probably never know why he was still so fond of them years later.

“Clean up and head down for breakfast. Keep it together,” she said.

I closed the door after Wanda headed back to the house. I yanked the rubber band from my hair and let it fall down my back. I pulled some clean clothes from my bag and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.

“Kendall, you in here?” Mason called from the doorway.

I ran my hands down my face and through my hair, letting the soap suds slip down my body. I was enjoying the moment.

“I’m taking a shower, what’s wrong?” I called, waiting for a reply.

“I guess this is better than a motel,” he said.

I rinsed my hair, wishing I could have a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself.

“Did you see the way he looked at you? What’s up with that?” Mason asked.

I turned the water off, confused by the question.

“He was being nice, Mason.” I grabbed the towel he was offering.

“I’ve met a lot of people too and I’m not stupid. I’d say it was more like subtle flirtation,” he said. “Older men can be perverts. And don’t think they won’t act on it because they’re married.”

I wrapped the towel around me and stepped out of the shower. I nodded, humoring him. Even though I didn’t agree with him, I’d pretend to, to avoid arguing.

“Well, I just wanted to point that out. Wanda and this sweet lady act is making me sick. I don’t know how much food I can stomach. See you downstairs.” He started out of the bathroom. I laughed, shutting the door and dropping my towel.

“Mason, you are something else,” I said, rubbing the mirror to reveal my face. I looked a ton better now that I was showered. My eyes were brighter and my skin was glowing. Not dull and dry from the two-day car ride.

I threw on my jean shorts and a pink camisole, along with a pair of flip flops.

I walked back to the house. I felt a little uncomfortable, but I knew I could make it through just about anything. The smells coming from the kitchen were certainly an inspiration.

“Come on in,” Roger said from the kitchen. He took his hand off the counter, giving me another one of his smiles, his other hand clutching a coffee mug.

A tiny blonde came into the kitchen, her smile as big as Roger’s. These people were a happy bunch. I looked her over. She was barely five feet tall.

“This is Anna, my wife,” Roger said, sparking Anna’s attention. She took my hand, squeezing it with eagerness.

“You’re beautiful. And I love that name of yours,” she said, not releasing her grip.

I did my best to smile. Mason came in the door, his hands deep in his pockets.

“I made all the fixins,” she said with a southern twang that put my accent to shame. She seemed easygoing and had a warm smile. Like Roger, she carried herself with confidence. “You want to help with the dishes?” she asked the two of us immediately. She filled Mason’s hands with dishes before he could even object. He raised an eyebrow, following her orders. I took the glasses making my way into the dining room.

The curtains were drawn letting the sunshine spill into the old-fashioned room. It was rather charming and sophisticated.

“Noah and Lainey!” she called, catching everyone’s attention. I looked at Wanda. She ignored me and carried on with the conversation she was having with Roger.

“Geez, I’m sorry, Momma,” a girl said, coming in the dining room. She kept the smile on her face as she found her seat at the huge table.

“Where’s your brother?” Anna asked, setting the plates down.

Mason sat down next to me.

“He said he was coming,” she said, looking at us now. She stuck out her hand, giggling. “I’m Lainey.”

I shook her hand, wondering why these people were so pleasant—and touchy.

“Kendall,” I said, forcing another smile.

She pushed her blonde hair from her shoulders looking at Mason now. I wanted to roll my eyes at how infuriatingly cute she was.

“And what’s his name? He doesn’t say much does he?” She furrowed her cute little eyebrows. Mason cleared his throat, extending a hand. She giggled again and shook it.

“Mason,” he told her, smiling his usual smile. I could feel Aunt Wanda’s stare from the other end of the table. I knew she wanted me to keep cool and not get jealous.

“How old are ya’ll?” She poured a glass of ice tea, watching us as if we were the most interesting people  she’d ever met.

“I’m twenty and Mason is twenty-two,” I said, taking in her big white teeth. If you asked me, they looked a little too perfect. It wouldn’t surprise me if every boy in town had a thing for her. I was trying to like her, but it was difficult.

“Yeah, I turn twenty-three in a month,” he said.

“Well, I’m eighteen and Noah, my brother, he’s—”

“Twenty-one,” Noah said interrupting.  He took a seat. I shot a look at the blond, caught off guard when he sat down without so much as a smile.

When he talked, his gaze shifted from the floor back up to the person he was addressing.

“Hi, I’m Noah, nice to meet you.” He moved his gaze to Mason. “You, too.” He rested his napkin in his lap.

“Kendall,” I said, looking at my food. I recognized his type. He looked like the overly confident kid who thought any girl would be lucky to have him.

“Well, let’s eat,” Anna said, coming back into the room with a fresh basket of biscuits. She pulled her apron strings, hung her apron over the back of her chair, and took a seat.

This was one of those times when I hoped and prayed everything would turn out all right.

Everyone dove right in as the food Anna had prepared was passed around the table—sausage links, eggs, pancakes, waffles, hash browns, and biscuits.  Anna sure knew how to cook.

She sipped her coffee as she watched everyone enjoy their meal.

“So tell me Wanda, what’s it like back home?” Roger asked, as he buttered his biscuit. I looked at Wanda. She took a mouthful of food, chewing slowly.

As more time ticked by Aunt Wanda still had provided no reply. Now everyone’s eyes were on her.

Payton fidgeted in her chair. Anna stood, quickly taking empty dishes from the table. I caught Lainey and Noah staring at me.

“Well, I don’t know, Roger. That town will never change. You know that. Always the same and always will be,” Aunt Wanda said, as she picked up her glass of orange juice.

Anna returned, carrying a basket of muffins. Her need to feed everyone seemed never-ending.

“Fresh blueberry,” she told me. I took one with a smile. I wondered how Lainey stayed so thin with a mother who cooked all the time.

“So what sort of things are you guys into back home?” Anna asked, sitting back down.

I looked at Mason, hoping he would take his turn and say something. He wasn’t looking too willing though.

“I like to hike and swim…anything outdoors, really,” I stammered.

Anna accepted everything I said, her eyes warm. She touched my arm, and said, “Well, I’ll tell you, Kendall. Alabama is known for great swimming holes. And I know just the two people who could take you guys out,” she said, casting a look at Lainey and Noah.

Lainey perked up. Noah acted oblivious.