Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Whatever,” West lilts, sounding as amused as Felicia. “Better be one heck of a reason, putting us all at risk of goin’ to jail like this.”
“Hey, we only made a citizen’s arrest,” I defend. “She was trespassin’ on our property.”
“Not sure they’ll see it that way seein’ as she’s your momma,” West jests and on the count of three, he opens the boot and they grab my flailing mother and carry her to the house. Felicia and I survey the area to be sure there are no witnesses.
“What’s going on, Immy?” Felicia asks and I nod for her to follow.
There’s no screaming when we get inside and I quickly learn that’s because Kane and his daddy have tied my mother bitch to a chair and have slapped a piece of tape over her mouth. The industrial kind. That’s going to tear her lips off. Damn.
“Okay so somebody needs to start talkin’,” Felicia demands and Kane folds his arms across his chest. “This is seriously crazy.”
“Oh we know,” Kane murmurs and all eyes fly to him. “I’m gonna cut to the quick, save the full length of the story because we’re runnin’ short on time what with all the noise she made.”
“We promise to fill you in on all the details after we have what we need from her.”
“Right, well, shall I make coffee or somethin’?” Felicia asks, looking confused.
“Naw, but y’all should probably take a seat.”
They both remain standing and I find this whole scene so bizarre. My mom is making muffled noises beyond her mask, tears in her angry hazel eyes, and I don’t actually care at all. I will do anything to find my kid, she needs to learn that and fast.
“Me and Immy have a kid,” Kane states, his tone firm and confident. To say West and Felicia’s jaws drop would be an understatement. “She would’a just turned eight.”
“WHAT?” West booms, looking at me accusingly.
“No, dad,” Kane warns. “It ain’t like that.”
“Then what’s it like?” Felicia, forever the soothing voice of reason asks while calming her husband with a hand on his chest.
“I didn’t leave on my own accord,” I explain, biting my lip and sneering at my mother again. “Mee-maw found out I was pregnant after that accident I had with my junky brother, and she immediately sent me away to Righteous Hill to save her from scandal, and also so people wouldn’t expect her to take on my kid if I became a deadbeat momma like this whore.”
Mom makes a noise of protest but then falls silent when I kick the leg of her chair. Pain radiates through my foot but it was worth it to see her panic and think I might tip her backwards.
“They kept me there against my will, forcibly removed my baby via a messy caesarian section and didn’t wake me up until long after she was gone. I never got to see her, never got to hold her, and until now the only person who knew of her whereabouts is dead. They sold her, but we don’t know who to. The trail is dry.”
Kane nods and continues, “I only found out when I went to Chicago. I’ve been speaking to the agent in charge of the case but the trail is as dead as this bitch will be if she doesn’t talk.”
“She said if I gave her my mee-maw’s house she’d give me the information I need to find my kid.”
“Our kid,” Kane corrects and I smile at him sadly.
“And why the fuck didn’t anybody tell us we have a kidnapped grandbaby out there?” West booms, face turning red.
“Don’t raise your voice,” Kane warns, yanking me into his side. “It’s complex and difficult and it needs more time talking about than a few seconds. Okay?”
West looks devastated but he nods, and then he rips the tape from my mother’s mouth and holds up his hand. “So you know where my grandbaby is?”
My mom shakes her head. “Don’t do this. It ain’t fair. I just need a little somethin’ to get me by.”
“Ain’t one for hittin’ women,” West snarls, “Don’t wanna start now.”
“Sweety,” Felicia whispers and pulls West’s face her way. “Let me.”
“Don’t want you hurtin’ your wrist again.”
That’s sweet… fucked up, but sweet.
“I ain’t gonna hit her. Hitting her won’t do shit she’s got too many balloons in her face.” She reaches into West’s pocket while speaking, her tone as sweet as sugar. “I’ve got something more persuasive in mind.” She flicks open the lighter and holds the flame to my momma’s face. “Stop your wailin’, I ain’t gonna burn your skin, just your hair. It won’t hurt none but I imagine you’ll look uglier than you do now and somethin’ tells me, looking at your fucked up face, that you wouldn’t do well lookin’ ugly.”
“Uglier,” I correct, and Mom’s face becomes a glare.