Page 77 of Restless
Thesewere the motherfuckers she wanted to stay with? Her mother was an abused, malnourished drug addict, a foot away from the grave, while her father was a fucking bullying fuckhead, hiding behind a badge and a gun.
“How’s the project coming along, Molls?” Deputy Harris asked, strolling to the little table where all of CJ’s hard work sat.
Before the motherfucker starting ripping apart the cardboard pieces, CJ knew what he intended and balled his fists at his sides to keep from throwing a punch. Each piece he tore, he threw at CJ’s feet. When the hydraulic claw was completely destroyed, he smiled.
“Guess not that good,” he said, and walked out of the room, leaving Molly in tears and CJ so fucking mad he was glad he wasn’t armed because he would’ve shot that motherfucker.
CJ turned to Molly.
Raising her arms above her head, she cried out in fear. “Don’t hit me.”
He wouldn’t dignify her words with a response, although she probably needed comfort right now, but so did he.
His entire fucking world was falling the fuck apart. A fucking fuckhead destroyed the one thing that was finally going right.
He backed away from her and right into her mother. Shelookedlike a bag of bones covered by skin. Shefeltlike a skeleton. Another bit of gas exploded from her, louder and smellier than the others.
“I’m hungry,” she said, her breath as foul as her farts.
“Nora!” Tom Harris called.
CJ didn’t trust he’d escape with his life if he had another run in with Molly’s father. He wished he could help her and her mother, but he didn’t know how.
“I’ll have food sent over,” he promised.
“For Daddy, too,” Molly called, a plea.
He didn’t want to spend his fucking money on that motherfucker. However, he knew if he didn’t, Molly and her mother would either have to give him the lion’s share or go without.
“Fine,” he grumbled, and stalked to the front door, careful not to step on Mrs. Harris’s threadbare skirt, shirt, bra, and panties, and grateful when he rode away and left that house in the distance.
Chapter Fourteen
The next evening, Harley sat in the dining nook of her family’s kitchen. The table stood in front of a curving booth, with Daddy’s chair at the head, and four chairs on the opposite side. Whether seated in the booth or in a chair, outside was visible with a panoramic view of the back gardens and the walkway that led to Lolly and Pop’s house.
At least twice a week, her grandparents dined with them. Once a week had been the family dinner at Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher’s, impossible while she was still in the hospital. Usually, there was laughter and jokes and warmth.
Tonight was the first time Daddy had sat down to eat a meal with them since the big blowup three days before. Though he was talking to Lou and Kaleb, Daddy didn’t have much to say to either Harley or Mommie.
Although her mother kept her expression closed, Harley was both hurt and angry at her father’s treatment. He was as bad as CJ, who hadn’t been at schoolagain today, although she overheard Jaleena Davis tell one of her friends that he’d texted her and asked if she could collect homework for him.
“The stew is good, Momma,” Kaleb said. He’d inherited most of Mommie’s genes, with greenish-brown eyes, cream-colored skin, and silky dark hair. “You haven’t cooked a homemade meal in a long time.”
Mommie winced and shifted in her seat. “Is the lamb tender, Lucas?”
“It’s fine, Bailey. The lamb’s still a little chewier than the beef, but it’s cool, baby.”
“I don’t prefer one or the other,” Lou said, copying their father’s mannerisms because why not? He was the one who looked most like Daddy, so it stood to reason he’d mimic him, too.
“What about you, hunny bunny?” Mommie pasted a smile on her lips and met Harley’s eyes. “Are you enjoying the food?”
Harley mixed gravy and rice, then shoved the food to the other side of her plate. She shrugged. “It’s delicious.”
Lou shook his head. “Have you even taken a mouthful?”
She shrugged again.
“Eat, sweet girl,” Mommie encouraged, and smiled at Daddy. “Tell her Lucas.”
