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“Thanks, Ma. Love you.”
“Love you too, Charlie.”
Back inside the truck, Savannah was as quiet as ever, fuming a little even though she did her best to hide it.
“You good?” I asked as I put the key in the ignition.
“Does it even matter what I say?” she said sulking.
“Of course, it matters. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.” I wondered if she was this prickly before they had kidnapped her, or if this was just who Savannah Rhymer was.
“Then I’d be better if you dropped me off at the train station, or the bus station, with some cash.”
I didn’t want to argue, so I stayed silent too, and it made for a long, tense drive. Eventually I pulled into my driveway, killed the engine, and turned to Savannah.
“Hate me if you want, but it’s obvious you need to recoup before you can go anywhere. Since you won’t tell me what happened, I’ll just give you the help I can.”
She continued to stare through the windshield like the cure to her ills was stuck on the end of the hood ornament. “Like I said before, it doesn’t fucking matter what I want, so whatever.” She made a move to grab her black trash bag, but too fast. She screamed out in pain. And when I reached to help her, she was like a cornered animal.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, flinching back. “I don’t need your help.” It took the damn woman five minutes, but she finally made it out of the truck and up the porch steps.
The door opened and Ma appeared with the same sweet smile she held for all strangers until they proved whether they were worthy—or assholes.
Ma stepped forward and said in a voice full of concern, “Oh honey, who did this to you?” Yet still, Savannah recoiled. She took a step back, nearly falling down the porch steps.
I reached for her and in her effort to steer clear of me; she twisted her body to avoid falling, letting out a visceral cry of pain.
“Who didn’t do this to me,” she growled in response. “I’m fine, though. I don’t need any medical attention, and I can’t afford it if I did. Sorry you came all this way for nothing.” This aimed at Ma, not me.
Ma only smiled and shook her head. “I’m Jana. Pleased to meet you, Savannah. I’m not offering the kind of medical care you pay for, just a little bit of TLC that comes with love, bandages, and antibiotic cream. Come on in.” She took a step back and waited with a patient smile. Savannah glanced around, seemed to realize we had her cornered, but in a helpful way. She had no choice but to step inside, wincing all the way.
I followed my mother inside and closed the door behind me. “Thanks for coming, Ma. I appreciate it,” slipping off my kutte and hanging it over the doorknob for now.
“You didn’t tell me she was so pretty,” Ma whispered, but Savannah’s snort of disbelief said it wasn’t spoken quietly enough.
“You must be a nun or something to find a junkie whore pretty. But thanks.”
“Smart mouth too, just what you need.” Ma’s green eyes lit with amusement as she grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the kitchen.
“It’s not like that, Ma. It’s complicated.”
“Things always are with you bikers. Go check on some food while I patch your friend up. I brought some leftover chicken casserole. Help yourself. Just made it for your Daddy the other day. He says it’s delicious. I think we’ll go into the living room.”
I didn’t want to leave her alone with Savannah just in case she tried to bolt, but Ma gave me that look, and I knew there was no arguing with her. “Sure. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“Better leave your keys too,” Savannah called out from her spot on the couch, “just in case the urge to flee gets too strong.”
Ma laughed. “I like her. You, go.”
I went to the kitchen, but I stood right near the doorway to hear what they said, just in case Savannah opened up to Ma more than she had to me.
Savannah’s painful groans reached the kitchen. I surmised Ma was lifting her t-shirt. “What happened to your ribs?” she said. “Anything broken?” Ma’s concern was palpable, and I wondered just how badly the Jacks had wailed on her.
“Just got beat up a little. Nothing to worry about. I’m sure I’d be in more pain if they broke anything. Nothing some painkillers won’t fix.” She let out a yelp, and I knew Ma had started fixing her up.
I was a sick prick because every little hiss of pain brought a smile to my face knowing the tough girl wasn’t so tough after all. “And the split lip?”
“Part of the same beating, but it’s healing well, I think.”
