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watching some shit on television. She’s always nested there when she is pissed at me or Old Man. It’s her safe spot, but this time she’s gone.
“What the fuck is going on?” Old Man asks from the kitchen.
Jazzy and I have lied to Old Man so many times in the past about our whereabouts or his missing money, but this time it felt really wrong to lie, almost like committing a crime. Old Man may not be the picture perfect dad, but he always took care of us and loves his daughter more than anything. If he knew of our plan to run away, he would have cut our legs off without a second thought. I do hope the poor sap who knocked up Jazzy runs fast, because he will be catching one of Old Man’s bullets to the ass otherwise.
“Girl, come clean, now,” he says as he walks closer.
Unable to look him in the eye, I try to tell him half the truth, or at least the most important part of the truth.
“I’m leaving, and Jazzy is pissed at me. I can’t stay here any longer, Old Man. I’d rather die than stay here,” I whisper, avoiding all eye contact.
“Lift your head up, child.”
If I’ve learned one thing, it’s to always listen to Old Man when he talks.
“Now, I know life has sucked for you. I’ve tried my fucking best to protect you.”
Now with tears streaming, I respond, “I know. I love you and Jazzy, but I can’t stay here. You can’t protect me from all of them. Moving across town or in here with you guys just isn’t enough. I have to go. Please don’t try to stop me.”
“Why isn’t that stubborn-ass child of mine running with you?”
“That’s her story to tell.”
“You two little fucking shits have always covered each other’s asses, but I’m not liking the sounds of this.”
“She’s hurt I’m leaving and not waiting for her. Take it easy on her.”
“So, am I to assume this is why you two have been stealing money from my jeans when you think I’m passed out?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You fucking call me Sir one more time, and I’ll beat your ass, child.”
I giggle at Old Man’s words, always so subtle.
“Thanks for everything. I wouldn’t be able to run if you hadn’t been protecting me all these years,” I say between a combination of tears and laughter from his threat.
“Here,” he says as he hands me a wad of hundred dollar bills. “Take it and don’t say shit about it. I’ll call a brother to come pick you up and drive you to the next town. I consider you my girl, and you’ll not be walking in the dark. No, you’ll be on the back of a bike, riding with one of my members to protect your ass.”
“Thank you,” is all I can manage to squeak out.
“And child, you best be checking yourself. If you think life here is rough, and I know you have your scars to prove it, you better keep your back to the motherfucking wall out in the real world. Don’t let anyone fuck with you, and if they do, you know my number and your way home.”
“Thank you, but I’m never coming back or calling you. This is the end for me.”
“Quit fucking thanking me. I’ll call Animal to come pick you up. You’ll be gone in fifteen minutes, lil’ sis. Just don’t fuck up your new life.”
“Never let Jazz forget how much I love her,” I whisper.
Out of Reach, by Missy Johnson
Out now at all major online retailors.
Synopsis
My best friend was dying and I was in love with his girl.
Andy and I had been best friends since we were eight-years old. Watching him slowly fade away, ever closer to his final breath, made me so incredibly angry. I knew there was nothing I could do to change it--I had given in to despair, but Andy had not. He had one last hand to play.
