“Your father and I would have.”
“I know. I knew it then and I know it now. But I was an adult, and I had to make that decision. It wasn’t your responsibility to carry.”
Mom nodded and swallowed hard, her eyes growing glassy. “I always wished that I could’ve done more. Done something.”
“You did exactly what you needed to,” I argued. “You held my hand and you supported me, even if you didn’t agree. That’s all I needed.”
“I was terrified that you’d regret it,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, “and that it would make you spiral even worse than you already were.”
“I don’t think anything would’ve made me worse,” I replied. “God, I was snorting so much coke.” I shook my head. “That was part of the reason I made the decision to go through with it. Who knows how much damage I’d done by that point?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said with a huff. “I was doing anything and everything. I wanted to tear down the world, but I was content with self-destruction.”
“Jesus.”
“I’m past it,” I reminded her. “I’ve been past it for a long ass time.”
“You’re so much like me, you know?” She smiled sadly. “I wish that we could pass down all of our wisdom to our kids in a way that they’d actually pay attention. I never wanted you to go through the shit I went through.”
“We all have to figure things out ourselves,” I replied. “Thankfully, most of us do—eventually.”
“Ladybug,” my dad called, poking his head in the door. “I thought you might be in here. Everything alright?”
“It’s fine,” I replied as he came inside the room. “Just visiting.”
“What’d you do to Woody?” dad asked, stretching out on the bed with us, his back against the wall and legs crossed at the ankles. “He tore out of her like his ass was on fire.”
“You two are a bunch of Nosy Nancys,” I complained without heat.
“We’re your parents, we have the right.”
“The right to ask? Sure,” I joked. “The right to an answer?” I tilted my head from side to side like I wasn’t sure, snickering when he let out an annoyed huff.
“Plan tomorrow is to get to Eugene as fast as we can,” he said, changing the subject. “It’s gonna be another shitty drive, but nothin’ for it. Once we’re back home, we’ll take care of this shit for good.”
“I don’t know how you’ll do that,” I said quietly.
“You let your pop worry about that,” he replied. “You just keep your head down until we get you two safe.”
“I can’t believe they were tracking my phone,” I said, cringing. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“Forget it,” Dad replied with a wave of his hand. “None of us knew it. That shit is usually the way cops track people—not normal, run-of-the-mill fuckwads. Pure chance that they had clout at your cellphone company.”
“I guess I should’ve used throw-aways like you told me to.”
Dad laughed. “Are you tellin’ me I was right about somethin’? Ladybug, write this shit down, I wanna remember it.”
“Shut up,” I joked, nudging his leg with my foot.
“It’s gonna be okay, CeeCee,” he said, grabbing my foot and giving it a squeeze. “You’re with us now and everything’s gonna be fine.”
“I know,” I said, only partially lying. I didn’t know how he was ever going to make things okay again. It didn’t seem possible. But I did know that I felt safer now, especially in the clubhouse, than I had since it all began. There was a security that came with being surrounded by my people.
“We better let you get some rest,” my mom said, getting to her feet. “Ollie’s going to be hungry again before you know it.”
“Ollie?” I said in amusement.
“Olive is an old lady name,” she replied, lifting her hand to stop me as I started to argue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with old lady names. But she’s the size of a sack of flour—she needs a kid name.”
“Ollie’s a boy’s name,” my dad said, groaning as he got to his feet.
“Who says? I like Ollie.”
“Can we just call her Olive?” I asked as my dad slapped my mom on the ass.
“You can,” mom replied. She leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Love you, princess,” my dad said as he kissed the top of my head. “Get some rest.”
“Love you, too. I will.”
I nodded when my dad put his hand on the light switch and looked over his shoulder at me. Then let out a long breath as the room was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the moon shining in the window. Carefully, I slid down in bed, laying Olive between me and the wall.
“We’re almost home, kid,” I whispered, fixing the fold on her little hat. “then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do.”
Once I’d scooted away from her and got comfortable, I laid there thinking about what our life was going to look like once all of this was behind us, and how Mark would fit into that, if he fit in at all. I imagined the way my reappearance would piss people off back home, the shit I’d have to deal with and what I was willing to take before I pushed back. I wondered how I would fit back into our family. Eventually, though, I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and I passed out.
* * *
It wasn’t the cool air, or the lack of sounds, or the presence of someone else in the room with me that woke me up. It was the absence of light coming in from the window. Something was blocking it. Less than a second later, I felt a fist in my hair.
“Get up and keep your mouth shut,” a voice whispered into my ear, as he dragged me from the bed.
As I arched, trying to relieve the pressure on my scalp, I pulled the blankets up over my pillow.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he hissed as he pulled me painfully to my feet. “You think you’re safe here? You ain’t safe anywhere.”
His breath was hot and wet and as I turned my face, trying to get away from it, I caught a glimpse of a knife in his right hand.
“Baby ain’t in the crib. Where’s the baby?” he asked, the point of the knife poking through the clothing at my ribs. “Huh? Which room?”
Somehow, he hadn’t seen her. Deliberately keeping my eyes forward, I clenched my teeth and firmed my lips. The knife pressed closer and, magically, it strengthened me.
“I’m not playin’ around with you. Where’s the fuckin’ kid?”
Everything I’d done to that point, every mistake I’d made, every scrape I’d escaped from, every bridge I’d burned, every relationship I’d ruined and mended, every decision I’d ever made, coalesced into that single moment. He could do anything to me. I wasn’t going to say a single goddamn word. Not one.
Any parent would tell you that they’d die for their child. I was one of the few who would ever put that into action. And honestly, I was ready.