For You(59)
Author: Mimi Strong

Things were definitely looking up for ol’ Sawyer Jones, so why did I feel like the ax was about to fall, and my heart was on the chopping block?

They came skipping out of the building, Bell leading the way in her purple leggings and pink skirt, her hair up in two pigtails. Aubrey had been so worried about introducing Bell to me, but Bell actually took to me way easier than Aubrey did.

My heart swelled with pride as I imagined watching Bell sing in Christmas pageants and then eventually graduate. By then, Aubrey and I would probably have another kid, and Bell would make such a great big sister. The new kid would have dark hair, and a girl would be cool, but a boy would probably be better so I wasn’t completely outnumbered.

I got out of the car and came around to open the doors for my ladies.

Bell climbed in and Aubrey followed, both of them sitting in the back seat.

“Am I your chauffeur?” I shook my head, pretending to be overworked. “I do not get paid enough!”

As Bell giggled and got her seat belt on, I stole a kiss from Aubrey. When we weren’t alone, the kisses always felt stolen, like she was embarrassed to be seen kissing me in public or even in front of Bell. That only made me want her kisses more.

Her hair smelled clean, and I lingered, unwilling to let go of her lips. Finally, she put her hands on my chest and shoved me out of the car.

“We’re going to be late,” she said.

“It’s a barbecue, not a boat cruise. They won’t leave without us.”

She gave me her stern look, the one I’d seen her use on Bell. It was equally effective on me, and I stopped my goofing around and circled around the car to act as chauffeur.

The vehicle itself had a scent of fast food, as if the owner had used it to store crumpled paper bags and garbage from all the chains. When the air conditioning came on, I always got a craving for french fries.

We drove over to Bruce’s house, and my mind floated around on the pleasant anticipation of grilled steaks and baked potatoes with all the fixings.

I rolled the car slowly up the street, looking for numbers. I’d worked for Bruce for about a year, and we were friendly, but I’d never been to his house. Now I was coming as a potential new family member. Life was funny, but sometimes things felt right. Like now.

I got out of the car and patted my pocket to make sure the ring was still there. The girls got out, but Aubrey seemed distracted. I knew she got stomach aches sometimes from worrying about money, so I asked if she was okay and she muttered that she was “just tired.”

I patted the square lump in my pocket again and we started to cross the street to Bruce’s house. Those delicious steaks were on my mind, and the ring, so when Aubrey tugged my hand and asked for the car keys, I didn’t think much of it.

“What did you forget? Go on ahead, I’ll run back to the car and get it for you.”

She looked at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot, and then she kissed me. Deeply. Right on the street in front of everyone.

“Sawyer,” she said, breathless. “If you love me, give me your keys. Then turn around and go to Bruce’s house like everything’s normal and tell them Bell got a stomach ache.”

“I don’t understand.” Was there a problem with Bell? No, she was busy, fascinated by some flowers blossoming along the edge of the sidewalk.

Aubrey kissed me again, then pulled back, her eyes pleading.

If I loved her, I’d give her my keys.

That’s what she’d said.

I reached into my pocket, past the ring box, and grabbed the keys for the Toyota.

She took them from me.

“Aubrey?”

She hustled Bell back toward the car, saying they had to run home to get something they’d forgotten.

Bell said, “Mom, what did we forget?”

Aubrey glanced back at me over her shoulder, looking so fragile and beautiful and scared. She was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but I still didn’t understand.

Then she got into the car and the two of them drove away.

That was when I realized that the other cars parked in front of Bruce’s house weren’t people coming to his barbecue. They were unmarked police cars, two of them.

I looked up to the front door of Bruce’s house and saw two police officers, the RCMP, unmistakable with their yellow-hued stripes down the outer edges of their pants, standing on the porch.

The red tail lights blinked out of sight. Aubrey was already gone.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bell was crying by the time we got back to the apartment in Sawyer’s car.

Her cries tore at my heart until I was numb.

I wasn’t thinking straight, just acting on instinct. The overwhelming urge to run.

Run.

Up in the apartment, I pulled the suitcases out from under the bed and started throwing things in. I needed time to think, and not the kind of time you have sitting in a holding cell, which was where I was so sure I was headed.

I could hear people down at the front door, loud male voices.

That was fast.

Had Uncle Bruce given them my address so easily? I didn’t have time to feel betrayed. I yanked out the bottom drawer of the dresser in Bell’s room and pulled off the cash I had taped to the bottom. We wouldn’t get far, but I had a few options, including a women’s shelter not far away. I had to pray Sawyer didn’t report his car as stolen in the meantime.

My cell phone kept ringing and beeping, so I turned it off. I unplugged the intercom, and heard only the sound of Bell having her tantrum.

“Why can’t we see Uncle Bruce?” she wailed. “I’m telling!”

Would the police be busting down my door any minute?

I stared at the packed bags. I’d been so stupid, settling down in one place. Now it was over.

I stood by the front door of the apartment and slid down to the floor, my back against the wall.

It was over.

The other times I ran away, I had nothing to leave behind. Now I had all these people who cared about me. Even Lana, with her ridiculous stories. What was the point in being alive if I couldn’t be around all these people?

Time was ticking.

I should have grabbed the packed suitcase and dragged Bell out the door.

But I didn’t.

I was twenty-one, and it was finally time to stop running and face whatever was in store for me. I wouldn’t die. I’d tell the truth, and I’d beg for mercy.

I sat there, drifting in and out of what felt like sleep but offered no relief.

An hour or more passed.

Someone knocked on the door.

I was too weak to move.

“Aubrey?”

My heart leaped to my throat.

“It’s Sawyer,” he said. “Your neighbor let me in downstairs. You have to open the door.”

“Are the police with you?”

“No.”