Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I pay the cabbie once I get back to the motel, tipping well like I promised. Elio was generous with the cash he tossed my way, but it’s not like it’s enough to start a new life.
I try to crush the hope inside of me, knowing that I’ll never see my brother again, that considering him dead is my best bet, but I was proven wrong once before.
I just can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that I’m completely alone in the world. With my father’s death, something that is affecting me less than it probably should, and Elio leaving again, I literally have no one. I’ve felt helpless and alone many times in my life, but right now, the desolation feels all encompassing. It has me questioning what the point of survival is. I’m not insane enough to go back to Chicago. I’ll run the skin off the soles of my feet in order to stay free of Alessio, but I don’t exactly have hope or plans for my future either.
I close myself in the motel room, flipping the latch for the lock and making sure to fix the curtains so no one can peek inside, before falling to the bed.
Knowing I’m not above asking for help, I formulate a plan to go back to that office and see if there’s anything those people will be willing to help me with. Too bad it’s Friday night and they’ll most likely not return until Monday. I can wait. It gives Elio more time to change his mind and come back to get me.
Chapter 31
Hollis
My truck rolls to a stop half a block away from the small house.
It should feel like home. It doesn’t.
It never did.
Many people say home is in your heart, where you feel most protected, most able to be yourself.
I haven’t felt that since before Dad started drinking.
Being told this is your new home, doesn’t make it so.
A dog barks in the distance as I climb out of my truck, but it’s not close enough to draw attention to me.
I don’t bother knocking on the door after approaching the house. I can’t turn the handle and just walk in as one would expect of their childhood home.
I’m not welcome here. I haven’t been for many years.
My mother, my protector, cast me out the day I took matters into my own hands against her second husband.
She had a problem with my father’s drinking but never once voiced an ill opinion of my stepfather when he struck her.
It never made sense to me as a child, and even now as an adult, I still don’t understand.
She never left him. He left her, and she hates me for it.
I don’t turn back to look when the front door opens, my seated figure casting shadows on the front lawn.
“She will shit a brick if she catches you out here, junior.”
“Stop cussing,” I admonish, still smiling as my little brother takes a seat beside me.
At thirteen, he has gotten too old to welcome me with a hug. I miss those days. True affection isn’t something I ever get.
Mimicking my position, he places his elbows on his knees and stares out into the darkness.
“Been a while since you’ve stopped by.”
I feel like an asshole, but it’s hard to make the effort when I know I’m going to leave with a bigger hole in my heart than I arrived with.
“Sorry, bud.”
I refuse to tell him this may be the last time he sees me. I don’t want to cloud his young mind with the danger I’m facing in Chicago. It was a rule that neither Ellie nor Patrick’s name were mentioned at my mother’s house. She said it was too painful. She lost too much with the teenage girl’s death, including her husband and the financial stability she had. Life after Ellie was too much of a struggle, so she felt ignoring it would make it all better.
“I understand you’re busy. I watched the race last weekend, but I didn’t see you once on TV.”
At some point in my visits, Connor got the idea in his head that I work the pits for a NASCAR racing team. I never corrected him.
“I was off last week,” I lie easily. “Took some vacation time.”
He nods, his eyes still locked on anything other than me.
“Did you go to the beach? I’d rather go to the beach than come here, too.”
I know it’s a tiny dig at my continued absence. The kid is in one of his moods where he can’t seem to understand that he isn’t the center of the universe. He’s probably been too sheltered by my mom, and I don’t see it as a terrible thing. There’s so much evil in the world. He’ll find out about that shit all too soon. The longer it can be postponed, the better, as far as I’m concerned.