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“I can’t. I have to get home,” I told him.
“You aren’t going home,” he returned.
I stared at him. “Ihaveto go home.”
“You aren’t safe at home. You’ll be safe with me and that’s where you’re stayin’.”
At his words, panic filled me.
“You think Slick will go to my apartment?” I asked.
“I think Slick’ll do just about anything to get his thirty K,” Eddie answered.
My stomach rolled and I leaned forward.
“But, my mom’s there. She can’t…” I stopped talking and then, not meaning to, I gave him the girlie “please” look that worked on Smithie, “Eddie, I have to go home.”
He looked at me for several seconds then he muttered, “Fuck.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. “I’ll take you home.”
Relief flooded through me as he pushed through the front doors. “Thanks, Eddie.”
My relief was short-lived.
“We’ll stop by my place on the way. I’ll pick up a change of clothes.”
Eek, eek andeek!
“What?” I shouted.
Eddie stopped us by his truck. “You don’t stay at my place, then I’m stayin’ at yours.”
No.
No, no, no.
“I’m sure I’ll be all right,” I assured him.
“I’m sure too, mainly because I’ll be there to make sure,” Eddie said, opening the passenger side door.
“We don’t have a lot of room,” I told him as he helped me into his truck.
He stood in the opened door, looking at me.
“You got a couch?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, and wished I didn’t. “But it isn’t very comfortable.”
“You sleep on it?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Your mom sleep on it?” Eddie kept it up.
This wasn’t getting any better.
“No,” I answered.
“Then you have room.”
