“I’m not going anywhere.Youare.”
“Where am I going?”
“To your new home.”
I’m so confused by his words I don’t say anything for a few seconds, and once my brain catches up, I’m even more confused. “New home?” I shake my head slightly. “This is my home.”
“It is not.” His ruddy face glowers down at me, but there’s a spark of glee in his mean eyes. “This ismymother’s house which means it’s nowmine.”
Oh!
I look at the door behind Warren. At the groceries I’m carrying. The porch where I spent so much of my life. It’s then I see the bags.
Trash bags. Several of them.
The ones I use to collect leaves from the yard in the fall. Except I haven’t raked leaves in weeks. Not since the last ones slipped from their branches.
“Don’t look so worried. I found you a job,” he says smugly. “One you’re well suited for.”
Suited for? I’ve never had a job, never worked.
“You’ll do exactly what you’ve always done. Theonlything you’re good for,” he adds with a sneer. “Cleaning up after someone else.”
“Oh.” Bile rises in my throat. The idea of doing what I did for my aunt for as long as I can remember makes sick. I swallow the urge down along with the ‘no’ perched on the tip my tongue.
I don’t want to take care of someone else again. I want to find a job like a normal twenty-year-old. I want to see about doing some college classes. I want to?—
“Take those groceries inside and unpack them. When you’re done, I’ll drive you to your new home.”
“They’re mine. I paid for them,” I say with a small amount of anger. “I’ll take them with me.”
“You will not take my mother’s?—”
“Ipaid for them. Not her.” I already told him that. Besides, he should know without me saying a word because the minute hismother died, he shut down all her accounts and took the money she kept on hand out of the jewelry box in her room. He cleaned out the jewelry, too.
“Well.” He puffs his chest out like it has a chance of sticking out further than his belly, “Let’s hope your new employer doesn’t mind backtalk.”
I open my mouth to speak but he keeps going.
“Bring the bags to the car.” He waves at the trash bags on the porch. “Those too.”
It’s then I finally get a clue. All my things are in those bags. All my belongings stuffed into plastic bags like everything I own is trash. Like I’m trash. Not that I have a suitcase or anything else to move them in, but boxes would have been nice…I sigh.
I shouldn’t expect anything different. I know what Warren is like. He was horrible to his mother, to me, and I’m pretty sure he was just as horrible to his wife and children. Probably why he’s divorced and rarely sees his kids.
I’ve never judged him or been nasty in return, even when I wanted to slap him for the way he talked to his mother. Aunt Bethany might not have been the most affectionate or welcoming woman, but she wasn’t mean or nasty the way Warren is. And she was his mother—shouldn’t that have warranted his respect if not love?
“Get a move on.” He shoves my shoulder, making me stumble forward. “I already told you I don’t have all day to drive you around.”
I want to tell him where he can stick his ride. Except I don’t even know where I’m going. And I’m afraid to ask.
I have no option than to do what I’m told right now. But I’ll use however long it takes to get to my new home to strengthen my resolve—make a plan.
I might not have a choice now, especially seeing how I just put a big dent in my meager savings, but I will have one.
Soon.
I’ll make sure of it.
