Page 55 of Run For Me
“I’ll be there when I’m there!” I end the call and whip my phone across the room. It dents the wall, then drops to the floor. And she can have fun paying to get that fixed, too.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s almost nine. There is no way I’ll make it to my mother’s house, help her with what she needs, and make it back in time.
But if Sailor can give me an extra hour, I may be able to make it work…
I hurry to my phone, pick it up, and call her.
She answers on the first ring.
“Hello?”
I sigh, looking upwards. Her voice… it’s refreshing. Like cold water on a hot day.
“Something came up and I need to—”
“Oh, okay. It’s fine…”
“No, listen to me. I’m not canceling.”
“You’re not?” She sounds surprised. Like she expected me to—was anticipating it. Maybe wanted it.
“Wait, did you want me to?”
“No, of course not. I’m just… nervous.”
That’s relieving. Nervous is good. I like that she’s nervous.
“I just need another hour. Eleven at the park. Eleven-ten, you can go into the woods.” She’s quiet. I don’t even hear her breathing. “Sailor?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll meet you then.”
Why does she sound unsure?
“If you’ve changed your mind, you can tell me. You have to tell me.”
“I haven’t!” She doesn’t sound mad, but eager. Still nervous.
“I don’t think I’ve said that, and I want you to know that if you have changed your mind, all you have to do is tell me. At any point, no matter what.”
I wait a beat for her to answer.
“Don’t go soft on me now, JT. You’re the man of my dreams, remember?”
Yeah, I remember. But I also know what it’s like to be caught in the spider’s web and not be able to get the fuck out.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Him
My mother lives forty-five minutes away in Sammamish. Her 3.5-million-dollar cozy house sits on 2.5 acres of land, which gives her plenty of room to do as she pleases without neighbors bothering her. The in-law unit was promised to me when she first moved in, but then I pissed her off, so she hired a full-time housemaid who never gets a day off but gets the in-law and a hefty salary. Probably a blessing in disguise, because if I lived so close to my mother, she’d conveniently go missing, and I’d be too enraged to be careful, so I’d no doubt be the prime suspect—and not by the cops. The people she has in her back pocket are way worse than the cops.
I blast my playlist as I drive, a heavy mix of Lorna Shore, Chelsea Grin, Oceano, and The Art Is Murder. Music helps me keep a clear head, which is necessary when dealing with the woman who birthed me. Had we not shared the same disdain for the human population, the precise shade of ocean blue eyes, and a prominent cupid’s bow in our top lips, I’d think I was adopted—though, I think cursed would be a better word to use, as myparents are hell. The only thing I am grateful for is that they stopped at me.
Had they had another, I can’t imagine what would be worse. Someone who acts just like them, or someone who hates them as much as I do, that I would then feel obligated to take under my wing. The less responsibility I have, the better.
Focusing on the music, I try to clear my head but can’t shake the annoyance over having to push the time with Sailor. For the first time in a long time, I was excited about something. It’s just my luck that my mother would fuck that up. Whatever she needs better be quick, because I refuse to cancel completely on Sailor. But I know it won’t be quick, because I know her. She has plenty of people she could call for help, people who would drop to their knees and beg for her to breathe in their direction. Yet, she called me. Meaning, she’s up to something.
It’s not that I fear my mother, I don’t think I fear anything. I just know what she’s capable of, and I know if I piss her off, I’ll lose my life. It may not be the best, but I don’t mind it, and I’d prefer to see my thirties, if I can help it.
