The Read And Weep Bundle: Anonymous, Perfectly Hopeless, Run (38 page)

“What?” I asked confused.

“How do you feel about me?” I shook my head at how stupid he could be. Blood stained his shirt, but he wanted to talk about feelings as if he wasn’t bleeding all over the place.

“I’m happy when you’re around. I like being with you.” My words pained me. They hurt to say aloud.

“Ok,” he said taking my hand in his. We walked slowly back to the motel.

I did my best to clean his wounds.

“Back in New Mexico, there was this guy who offered to teach me to fight. I wonder if I should have taken him up on that offer now,” he said wincing as I cleaned his cut with soap and water—it was all we had.

“I’ve seen you fight. Sometimes those foreigners are really skilled,” I said, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. I bit my lip, blotting his face with a towel, a smirk pulling up the corners of my mouth.

Mason’s eyes grew wide as he caught on to my amusement. “Kendall!”

I turned away, throwing my hand up to stop him from lecturing me, laughter escaped my lips. There was no stopping it. I threw myself down on the bed, burying my head into the pillows.

“I’m sorry, Mason. I really don’t think it’s funny,” I said through another fit of laughter. I closed my eyes afraid to look at him anymore. It was just too much.

“You’re a mean girl, Kendall. I should crack you in the face,” he said, jokingly.

I sat up finally, looking around the room. I knew we were going to be leaving. “Do you think she will follow us?” My stomach was starting to feel sick all over again. I didn’t want to say goodbye already.

“I don’t know, “he admitted, I could tell he didn’t want to. “If they did what they usually do then no she won’t follow. She won’t travel with a group. She thinks that’s what gets you caught.”

“Then we have an answer, because Wanda would never let someone live that would rat her out.” I was near tears. I jumped up, and ran for the bathroom, slamming the door in a hurry to get away from everything.

“Kendall.” Mason called from the other side of the door. The sound of his fist against the door made me cry even harder. I wiped every tear that fell, my breath short and quick.

I knew Mason. And at that moment I knew he was on the other side of the door with his forehead pressed against it. Irritated beyond belief because he hated to see me cry, I hated crying.

“Kendall will you come out? Come out and let’s talk about this,” he coaxed.

I stared into the mirror, my hair wild from the run. The wind made me look like I just rolled out of bed. My eyes were red and filled with tears. I shook my head.

“Boy you can sure be a baby,” I muttered to my reflection. I splashed some water on my cheeks. Crying never fixed anything. I should have learned that a long time ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said the instant I showed my puffy face. I sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching my stomach. I felt like puking. The nerves were just too much.

“It’s not your fault, Mason. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want to go. I don’t want to be all alone again,” I explained.

“How much money do you have on you?” he asked, hurrying to the window. He pushed the curtains aside looking out the window in a hurry.

“Like fifty dollars,” I told him.

He slipped a hand in the front pocket of his jeans, fumbling for a minute before he found a small manila envelope. He shook the contents into his palm and shoved it in my face.

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

He laughed loudly, his eyes filled with determination and confidence. “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 grabbed a hold of me and planted a kiss on my lips, and then pushed me back down on the bed kissing my whole face.

“What are you saying, Mason?” I asked, aggravated and thrilled at the same time. I pushed him away, waiting for an answer. He sat up, putting 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 still scary. Mason and I taking off was no better
than where we stood right now with the law. “What kind of life could we really have?”

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

“Wanda and Payton will go ballistic.” I was beginning to panic at just the thought of it.

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

“I don’t know,” I said, my heart was racing. He ran his hand through 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, think about yourself. This shit does not get better, Kendall.”

“I know.” I sighed.

“Just imagine what it could be like. We could go where we wanted. We wouldn’t have to do anything like this ever again,” he said, hardly able to contain his excitement on the thought of us taking off.

The doorknob rattled and the door opened. In walked Wanda and Payton, Payton snatched the envelope from Mason’s grip. I looked at Mason, all the happiness instantly vanished. It was as if someone stuck a pin in him and let all the hope escape his body.

Payton headed for the bathroom, she didn’t look at either of us. I looked at Wanda, her hands were dirty and her hair was a mess. Several strands were out of place from the braid I had made. There were claw marks down her arms; she rubbed at them gingerly as she pulled off ring after ring, setting them down on the dresser.

“We are going to clean up and then we are out of here,” she said to me, her head dropping 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 some kind of answer from her.

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

“Mason and Payton are two people. I think we would be better off with them.” I argued.

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

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

Payton flew from the bathroom like a charging bull. She snatched him up by the collar shoving him, her small size not a thought in her mind as she stared up at him. “Shut your mouth! You’re worrying about the wrong things. And I’ll lay you out, Mason Vaughn!”

I clutched the comforter in angst, I felt horrible for him.

“No. I’m not going to shut my mouth. We go to Alabama or I am done with this bullshit.” He told her. He didn’t move a muscle, just stood there. That was how much respect he had for that vile woman.

“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 will turn you all in.” He was serious and so stern I believed every word coming from his mouth.

Payton’s eyes darkened, she stared up at him. “You can’t see Kendall in prison.” She challenged.

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 yelled, she threw up her hands in defeat and stomped away from him. I looked at Mason in awe.

“Is it Alabama?” he asked.

“Yes, Mason, its Alabama. I should shoot you in the god damn head. I don’t know what son treats his mother like this.” Her fit continued right out the door.

Aunt Wanda stared Mason down. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. I was sure it was something awful though and something I didn’t want to know about. She slammed the door, leaving us alone, which gave us time to celebrate. Mason lifted me off the ground, giving me the biggest hug he could muster. I squeezed him tight, elated.

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

We pulled it together and headed out the door to the
“bitter sisters”.

Alabama, the yellow hammer 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 abandoned.

His knees dug into the passenger seat in front of him. Payton ignored him. She was still upset about Mason’s defiance. She turned away from us all, her golden brown hair falling against the side of her face.

She was a beautiful woman. Barely forty, I imagined she could have done anything she wanted at one time in her life. Why she chose this lifestyle I wasn’t sure.

Her body was tan, tall and shapely. She was oblivious to the nasty facade she lugged around incessantly. She always showed her ugly side. So much so it was hard to appreciate she was even beautiful. Her sharp jaw, her beautiful slim nose, she was perfect. She was beautiful.

As she rested her chin against her palm I was reminded that Mason had her eyes—clear and green. Along with her nose and chin, even the
shape of his lips was similar to hers.

“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 his head back against the seat.

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

“Then we should be right at home,” Mason said, laughing. I smirked, looking out my window. The joke was to true to be funny, but sometimes it was better to just laugh anyways.

Several hours later we were pulling onto a drawn out driveway, to a graceful white house. The house was old, but well maintained. Dark hunter green shutters made it look that more refined. The brick chimney on one side jutted straight to the sky.

Its porch was enclosed, but not completely, it gave way to tall stairs 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 to lay eyes on Mason and I. Mason was still asleep. She rolled her eyes, making it quick. “I’ll do the talking. Keep your mouth shut. If they ask, Payton and Mason are relatives. No specifics,” she explained, pointing a thin finger at me.

Payton slapped Mason in the leg waking him up.

“Listen before you screw everything up. We are all related, you got that?” She glared at him.

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

“I mean it, Mason. That means no touchy feely shit with Kendall,” she warned him. She had the evilest look on her face.

“We’re in Alabama. They probably all date their sister. Who the hell cares what they think about us,” he said, climbing out of the car. Payton was incensed. 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.

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

Aunt Wanda fluffed her hair and stabbed the doorbell with her long nail. I tried to keep it together. The moment I met someone new was always the hardest for me. It only took a couple minutes to figure someone out. Sometimes it was fun and sometimes sad. Sad because it told me what kind of situation we were heading into.

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, his voice animated and if I didn’t know better he was happy to see her.

Mason looked away, stifling a laugh trying to escape. 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. 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.

He had a peculiar nose, not deformed or scarred, just terribly flared nostrils. They rose higher than most people’s. His lips were larger than most men his age. And he had blue eyes, as blue as the sky. Quick and questioning eyes, the kind that made you think he was always trying to see past the surface. Sometimes my accuracy was so spot on, I wondered if I was a genius. He was someone with a lot of confidence. I could tell by the way he stood before us, one hand on the door the other at his hip. His stare held a lot of clout. This baffled me, 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, his tall frame welcomed us into his home. He winked at me and gave me his best smile. I smiled back, afraid to act strange in this man’s presence.

Mason looked around not trying to be understated at all. Payton elbowed him in the side, but kept 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 get up to date with a good meal,” he let us all know.

“That sounds great, Roger. Is there somewhere we can put our things?” Aunt Wanda asked pleasantly. I almost choked. Roger took her by the elbow and guided her through the hallway.

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

We headed through the kitchen. The aroma of rich foods slapped my nose, my stomach cried out. 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 rattled, moving across the lawn to a small white duplex off in the distance, a long staircase on the left side lead 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 shook my head that I understood and slung my duffle bag over my shoulder. Suddenly someone’s hand fell on my shoulder. It was Roger. “What’s this one’s name again? This is your niece right, Wanda?” He smiled a lopsided grin and looked me over.

“This is Joy-Ann’s daughter, Kendall,” she said clear as day. Not like usual. Usually she sounded like she was spitting nails when she said her name.

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

I fumbled for words. My mouth parched suddenly, Aunt Wanda chuckled, breaking the shock coursing my veins.

“Yeah, she’s got a lot of Joy in her,” she said, she said her goodbye 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 be 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. Somehow he was fond of Wanda and my mother. Why years later he still was fond of them I probably would never know.

“Clean up and head down for breakfast. Keep it together,” she said pointing in my direction as an unspoken warning.

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. Mason’s voice was louder which told me he was now inside the bathroom.

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

I rinsed my hair, wishing I could have a few moments of serenity.

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

I turned the water off confused by the question.

“He was being a nice man. I’ve met a lot of men and I can honestly say 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 would say it was more like subtle flirtation,” he said. “Older men are perverts. And don’t think they won’t act on it because their married.”

I wrapped the towel around me and stepped out of the shower. Mason knew how to be ignorant. I nodded, humoring him, even if I didn’t agree I would pretend to for the sake of arguing.

“I wanted to point that out. Wanda and this sweet lady act is making me lose my appetite, 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 pink camisole with a pair of flip flops and that was all it took for me to feel new again.

I walked back to the house. I felt a little odd, but I knew I could make it through anything. The smells were enough to convince me too.

“Come on in,” Roger said from the kitchen. He took his hand off the counter, giving me another one of his big 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 such the happy bunch. I looked her over. She barely was five feet tall. It was unusual that someone was shorter then I was.

“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 on my hand.

I did my best to smile. Mason came in the door, his hands deep in his pockets. He took in everything that was going on in silence.

“I made all the fixins,” she said with such a twang she put mine to shame. She was very easy going almost carefree. With a smile that could melt the sun. But like Roger, the way she carried herself as she went about the kitchen proved she was one tough cookie. She walked and cooked and did everything with confidence. It was clear neither one of them were stupid.

“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. It showed me they had vintage taste.

“Noah and Lainey!” She hollered, catching everyone’s attention. I looked at Wanda unsure who these people were. She ignored me and carried on with her conversation she was having with Roger.

“Gees, I’m sorry, Momma,” a girl said, coming in the dining room, her voice high and cheery, her hair was long, strawberry blonde, so shiny. 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 in silence.

“He said he was coming,” she said, looking at us now. She stuck out her hand, letting out a small giggle. “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 hair from her shoulders looking at Mason now. Her ruby red lips almost pouting. 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 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 thing she had ever seen before.

“I’m twenty and Mason is twenty-two,” I said, taking in her big white teeth that were a little too perfect if you asked me. She got her lips from her father—if that was who he was to her. I assumed he was seeing they were perfect. She was a ball of energy. I was certain every boy in the 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 told her, watching her narrowly as he spoke.

“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 cocky blonde, caught off guard by his ominous personality.

His hair was dirty dish water blonde, all gelled and tousled. He had a prominent jaw line, sleek nose and baby blues. When he talked, his gaze shifted from the floor back up to the person he was addressing.