Page 9 of Pack Owned
The bell over the door sounds, and my head jerks up. Instead of Gary, my mom walks in with her eyes red, and she meets my stare in something that doesn’t look like relief or happiness. Her posture tells me this isn’t a rescue mission, it’s a retrieval, and I’m about to get my ass chewed. She marches over to the deputy, glaring at him until he turns red and says ‘thanks’ to whoever he’s talking to.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asks.
“I’m here to check out my daughter.” She doesn’t even glance at me. “Kayla.”
“Mom, I’m sor?—”
“That’s enough.” She turns back to the deputy. “I assume there are papers to sign her out?”
He hands her a file, and she doesn’t even read it, just scribbles her signature on several pages, then hands him her credit card to pay the fine. I don’t ask how much cause I already feel like shit.
“All done.” He hands her back her card. After a nod, she marches over to me, and I swallow the lump pressing into my throat. She jerks my arm, pushing the car keys in my hand. “Go and wait for me in the car. I’ll be right outside. I need a cigarette.” Mom hasn’t smoked in over a year.
With my shoulders cramped from the tension, I say bye to my friends, then head to the car. A tiny, choked sound escapes me when I see Gary’s not here. But he’ll be at home. Waiting.
Outside, the moon hangs full and round overhead, with stars twinkling like nothing’s fucked up like my life. My fingers tremble and the keys jingle as I walk to the parking spot, passing three cops having a cigarette. I slide into Mom’s car, the cold leather of the passenger seat chilling the back of my legs. The thought of chucking the keys into the gutter is tempting, but it would only buy me a few minutes.
Taking deep, shaky breaths, I try to find a smidge of control and not have a breakdown right here. I roll down the window, letting the night breeze carry in the smells of city life and fast food—all of it like a slap of ‘normal’ against my face, reminding me that there’s a world that’s not chained up like I am.
From the glass doors of the police station, I can make out Casey and Jess. Both of them look concerned. I give them a feeble wave and mouth, “See ya,” since there’s no way they’d ever hear me.
A cloud darkens the moon, and it feels like Gary’s shadow is looming over me right now in the parking lot, even though he’s miles away. I start the engine to turn on the radio to get my thoughts to focus on some music rather than all the times I’ve crept around my own home, trying not to wake Gary if he’s passed out on the couch.
Mom’s heels click against the pavement like a countdown to when I have to have my mask in place, play the part she’s familiar with, and not rock the boat.
She slides into the driver’s seat and flips off the radio. Her hands grip the wheel, knuckles whiter than her purse.
“Let’s go,” she finally says, her voice devoid of warmth, like she’s ordering a coffee she doesn’t really want.
“Mom, I…” The words tangle in my throat, and I’ve no idea how to tell her that I can’t go back home. My breaths freeze in my chest, and I feel as if my heart is going to bust out of my chest, like I’m having a heart attack or something. “I-I can’t… can’t go back there… Gary’s been in my room when you’re not home.” I clench my hands on the edge of my black dress, trying to squeeze the words passed the burning lump in my throat. My stomach knots up, and I force myself not to vomit. “Gary…”
She sighs, her expression softening slightly. “I know this has been hard on you, Kayla. Gary’s moving in has been an adjustment for all of us.” Gary seemed to know how to push my mom’s buttons, as though he knew she blamed herself for Dad’s death and had some sick addiction to him.
I try again. “You don’t understand. Gary?—”
“He’s concerned about you, and after what happened tonight, I’m inclined to agree.” She takes a deep breath. “I think… we could all use a little space. It was just the two of us for so long. Having Gary there all the time is a huge adjustment. You spending a few days with Bea will do us all some good.”
A spark of hope ignites in my chest. “Aunt Bea?” The woman was older than sin and didn’t even have a TV or WiFi, but hell, I’d take it. “Sure. Um, how long?”
“A few days?”
“Okay.” I try again to explain to Mom about Gary, but she brushes me off. Right now, I’m going to enjoy the sanctuary of not having him around.
I stare out the window, not really seeing anything. Each passing mile feels like they’re taunting me, whispering, “You’re stuck, Kayla. Stuck in a trap you can’t break.”
Three days later, there’s a knock on my Aunt Bea’s door, and my stomach is all of a sudden in my throat.
“Dear, can you grab that?” Aunt Bea calls from the laundry room.
I tell myself that maybe it’s a Mormon coming to sell me their religion, or it could be Casey, Danica, or Jess—not that they aren’t grounded like me after getting caught at the club.
I open the door, and my freaking stepdad is standing there grinning at me. My stomach drops. Whatever he says, I’m not going back with him. I’m not going to let him terrorize me or lay a fucking finger on me.
My back is rigid as I say, “What do you want?”
“Have you learned your lesson, Kayla?” he asks as if I’m a damn child and he’s the dutiful father figure.
Fuck that shit. “Nope.” I grin, forcing myself not to run.
