Page 21 of Outlaws' Single Mom
“I just want to look around and see what needs to be done,” I say. “It won’t take long.”
He grimaces, but finally nods. “Fine, fine. I don’t want trouble with the Sons. Jay’s out on a job, anyway. Follow me, but be quick, okay?”
He leads us out a door in the back and into a stairwell to the second floor. The paint is chipping off the walls and it smells like mildew and dust. At a little landing on top there are a couple of doors. The owner unlocks the one on the left then steps aside. “Listen, I really am sorry about your sister. She was with us for years, you know? I dunno if Jay is taking over the lease, so you got at least until the end of the month before you need to worry about gettin’ her stuff out. If it’s a problem, talk to me and I’ll make you a good deal on taking care of everything for you.”
“Um, thanks. I guess.”
He scuttles back down the stairs, and when he's out of sight, Stiff finally moves away, dropping the protective boyfriend act. I miss the weight of his arm, but there isn’t time to dwell too much on why.
“Wait here,” Jackal orders. He steps into the apartment first, followed by Stiff, while Lash stays next to me. After a minute, they come back out. He nods. “All clear.”
The door opens into the kitchen. It’s not great, but isn’t as bad as I feared. There are crusty dishes in the sink and an overflowing bag full of laundry in thecorner. What’s left of a bowl of cereal is on the chipped table that separates the kitchenette from the living room, next to a couple of empty beer bottles and a full ashtray. Layers of dirty fingerprints have discolored all the cupboards near the handles. But there’s a cute towel hanging from the stove handle with red, orange and yellow leaves printed on it, and a mug by the sink with a heart shaped handle.
The yellow curtained window was hers.
God, she was so happy when she first moved here. Looking back, it would’ve been not long before she got pregnant. I remember helping her pick up the kitchen table from someone who was giving it away. I wonder how different her life would’ve been if she’d never met Jay. Or if it would’ve mattered at all. He was one of the stones around her neck, but not the first. Maybe if it wasn’t him, it would’ve been something else, someone else.
“Where do we start?” Stiff looks around, taking the place in.
“Let me look around a little first.”
He and Jackal both nod, leaving me to roam.
There’s not much to see. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, and one bedroom with pink roses hanging from a nail on the door.
Just like the kitchen, the bedroom is in a state that’s just on the wrong side of lived-in. Men’s clothes are strewn over one side of the bed, and a pair of shoes that must be Jay’s are on the floor. The bed isn’t made, and the sheets are a shade of purple just a little darker than my sweatshirt. There's a vanity and a chair, with makeup strewn over the top and a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. Inside a drawer is a green velvet jewelry box. I take it out carefully, reminded of Logan’s treasure case.
The contents hit me like a punch in the chest. There's a lock of dark blond hair, held together with a piece of tape and kept in a little plastic bag. I recognize it immediately. We each have one that we kept after Logan’s first haircut. Next to it is a silver locket Mom used to wear. I slip both into my pocket, not wanting to risk Jay taking the necklace downstairs to hock for cash.
I'm glad the bikers are waiting out in the living room giving me my space, but even though they're right out there, a feeling of intense loneliness rolls overme like an avalanche. “Why?” I whisper to the ghost of my sister’s memory.
If the place had been totally trashed, then maybe I’d be willing to believe she was in such a bad state that I’m wrong, and she really was to blame for everything. But it’s not. It could use a good cleaning, and to kick out the slob that’s probably not paying rent, but it doesn’t look like she was strung out or planning to take off. Did Jay finally snap? That doesn't explain her grabbing Logan instead of coming to me for help.
I don't get it.
I dig around a little more while trying to get my emotions back under control, but I don't find anything else that matters. Some weed and a few edibles in her underwear drawer, but no sign of the hard drugs that Officer Dillard claimed she was on. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible, but it doesn't feel right.
Georgia, what were you running away from?
A door opens in the other room. “Hey! Where the fuck are you going?” Jackal yells.
Rushing out, I only catch Stiff's back as he disappears out of the apartment. Jackal's boots are already clomping down the stairs, leaving me and Lash alone in the kitchen. I look out the window and see Stiff and Jackal chasing someone into an alley. I move towards the door, but Lash stops me. “Stay put. Stiff and Jackal are on it.”
“It’s probably just Jay.”
“Yeah, so then there’s nothing to worry about.” His grin has an edge to it. “That’s why we’re here, right?”
13
JACKAL
This fucker’squick on his feet. But I’m quicker.
He darts into an alley, glancing over his shoulder to see how close we have. Grabbing the handle of a garbage can standing outside the backdoor of a restaurant, he flings it behind him, sending rotting garbage flying. For once I’m glad it’s cold, because the stench still sears the inside of my nose.
“For fuck’s sake!” Stiff swears as he dodges the trash.
Our mark bursts out of the alley onto the next street, sending a guy flying to his ass on the sidewalk. The collision slows him enough that my fingers brush his jacket, almost close enough to grab, but he veers left, sprinting as hard as he can. I can hear Stiff behindme, and I motion for him to go wide and come up the side, hoping to flank the asshole.
