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Picking up the broken pieces of the cup, I nervously rushed through, “I’m here, Amber.”
“It…I…it’s…”
“What is it, Amber?” I pressed, “Talk to me.”
“Hello, Red.” Gripping a broken piece of coffee cup, I felt it cut through my flesh. Cold sweat seeped out of my forehead as I addressed the voice I never thought I’d hear again.
“Laz, don’t you fucking touch her!”
“Me? Nah, wouldn’t hurt her for the world. She’s my girl, Red. I take really good care of her.”
Blood pooled in my hand as I discarded the broken glass into the trash and braced myself on the counter, dread racing from the center of me throughout every limb, every nerve, and every fiber of my being.
“Don’t hurt her, Laz. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t hurt her.”
“From what I gather, you have about a thirteen hour drive. I’ll be sure to have a welcome home party well underway. You remember the place, right?” I heard Amber shriek in the background.
“Laz, please—”
The line went dead as I stood dazed in my kitchen, my past barreling over me like a tidal wave. Grabbing a kitchen towel, I wrapped my bleeding hand and took a deep breath. The Laz I’d left was a criminal and unpredictable, but a large part of me knew then he didn’t want to harm me. Then. The last time I saw him, I’d left him crying and bleeding in a hotel room, begging me not to leave.
What I was sure of was the man I’d just spoken to on the phone wanted nothing more than to hurt me. Now.
And I predicted he would be more caustic than the ghost I fought in my head.
Pushing down the terror that raced through me, I raced through my condo and pulled a bag from my closet, mindlessly shoved some clothes inside, grabbed some cash from my safe, then texted Nina.
Me: I need a few days.
Nina: It’s about damn time.
Functionally numb, I pulled out onto the street, leaving the life I’d built to face the one I’d left behind.
Adrenaline took the place of fear as I raced down the highway at neck breaking speed. Heavily armed and prepared to do whatever it took to resolve the situation, I pushed myself back to a mental state of ruthlessness that I hadn’t visited in years. The agony of not knowing what my sister faced fueled me as I thought of a thousand scenarios that Laz could come up with to punish me. My sister had finally given me the chance I’d been so desperate for, and I would not let her down. I hadn’t realized until I crossed the North Carolina border that I’d been seeking redemption. Connection and redemption were what I craved. My love and loyalty for my sister went beyond the simple reason of blood, but it was a selfish confirmation I needed from her. I wanted to prove to her and to myself, I’d done the right thing by leaving. Now that I had the means to help her in any situation, to get and keep her free of the life I had so purposefully abandoned, I could convince her to leave Dyer.
She was all I’d ever really had.
Laz, and later, Ray, had taken away both my innocence and faith in men. I refused to let anyone, especially Laz, take any more from me. If he wanted a fight, he had one coming his way.
“Nora, the fucking anhydrous tank is short again! When I catch the fucking thief, I’ll put a goddamn bullet in his head!”
I heard the shouting back and forth as my mother and father speculated on any one of their list of enemies stealing the precious liquid from their tank.
For any common man, anhydrous was a fertilizer for farming. For meth dealers, it was an essential ingredient in the mix of the drug. All hell had broken loose in the last few months in the Ellison household due to a new supplier in town and the constant threat of my parents slowing traffic threatening to ruin their monopoly as the town’s best source for meth. They had gone from using meth to selling my father’s biggest cash crop one propane tank at a time. They’d started to make a substantial amount of money showboating around town in new cars and spending it on anything but the disrepair of the house and new clothes and proper nutrition for their children. I’d always blamed the majority of our despair on the fact that we had never had money. After a year of watching my parents live well while my sister and I still suffered, I had no choice but to accept they were simply monsters who had no place as parents.
I stayed on constant high alert and remained silent and obedient in an attempt to keep my mother’s wrath at bay. My grades were soaring, and academically I was being recognized while going home felt brutal.
Often times from our beds, Amber and I would hear gunfire in the distance, followed by the hasty retreat of our father’s car in the driveway. He was after the thief stealing the one cash crop that had ever brought him prosperity, and it had nothing to do with his dying fields.
What my parents did not know was I was the one aiding in the thievery.
It was my boyfriend who was doing the taking. And it was my boyfriend who my father now had to compete with for the sale of the drug. Laz had spent a few months out of juvie working with Cedric to tar roofs. Cedric had offered him a job with his father’s company, which he gladly accepted until he realized how “Shit pay would take forever to get us out of Dyer.” Cedric continually looked out for me, especially when Laz decided to start cooking and testing his product himself. He saw it as quick money, and I saw it as the death of us. Cedric had come to my window, warning me away from Laz, telling me that he’d changed since before juvie, telling me a few convincing secrets I knew Laz would kill him for.
“You deserve better, Taylor. You deserve more,” he’d said as I shivered in the newly fallen snow. It was just after Christmas, but you couldn’t tell in my household. There had been no “fucking tree messing up our house,” no music, no laughter, no gifts. It had come and gone unnoticed, as it had every year.
“He will come around, Cedric. He’s just trying to do right by me,” I defended.
“You could come with me. As soon as I sign up, we could get housing.”
