AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When her eyes met mine, I gave her a reassuring smile before taking a seat. Maeme had her hands full. I hoped she realized it. The look in those pretty green eyes said she was planning on running. Not that she’d get far, but it was going to be a full-time job, watching her until she calmed her ass down.
“Storm Kingston,” Maeme called as he reached for the skillet of cornbread. “I know you ain’t reaching for something before the blessing is said.”
He pulled his hand back. “No, ma’am.”
She nodded, then gave us all a pointed look that meant we’d better bow our heads while she blessed the food regardless that Thatcher had killed a man today, then shot another; I’d lied my ass off to convince a woman to get in my truck; and Storm had held a knife to a man’s throat to get information from him, then made the man piss himself. Sure, if there was a Lord, he really cared about us thanking him for the food we were about to eat. Made complete sense. Not that anyone would point that out to Maeme.
When she said, “Amen,” we all fell in line and repeated it before hands shot out and grabbed at the different offerings filling the table.
Pausing with the pot of dumplings in my hand since I’d been sure to set them directly in front of me, I glanced over at Rumor. She seemed to have paled as she watched us all, wide-eyed. I really fucking hated the bruise on her face. It made me want to hurt someone.
Standing up, I walked over to her, carrying the dumplings. She followed me with her eyes until I came to stand behind her.
“You gotta have some of this,” I told her, taking the first spoonful and placing it on her plate. “Eat up.”
She tilted her head back to look up at me. “Thanks.”
I smiled and nodded before walking back to my seat. Thatcher was watching me with a smirk. I shot him a scowl, then sat down.
“You not gonna spoon me out some too?” he asked me.
“Shut up,” I replied with a warning glance.
He leaned over and took the collards, still looking amused. Crazy bastard. Most of the time, we allowed his shit because he wasn’t what you would call sane. There was something inside him that didn’t quite work like everyone else. He was detached. A little too much so.
Looking back down the table at Rumor, I saw her pick up a piece of cornbread and take a bite. She needed to lather that thing up with butter. Maeme was thinking the same thing because she took a pat of butter and reached over to spread it onto Rumor’s cornbread. I couldn’t hear what she said to her since there were three different conversations going on at the moment. But the small smile that touched her lips somehow helped me relax. She was gonna be fine.
• eight •
“I bet his dick was small too.”
Rumor
The sunlight flooding the room greeted me when I opened my eyes. I lay in the soft bed with lavender-scented sheets, staring out the window overlooking the lines of pecan trees outside. When I had lain down last night, I had thought sleep wouldn’t come. My plan to figure out how I was going to leave today hadn’t happened. Not only had I fallen asleep, but I had done it so quickly that I barely remembered much after getting in bed.
The throb in my side became a sharp pain with every breath I took. I needed to get up and take an ibuprofen to take the edge off, then get dressed. Tossing the covers back, I sat up slowly, hissing through my teeth. It wasn’t until my feet hit the floor that I realized, today, I wouldn’t have to go make Hill breakfast. There would be no anxiety while I waited to see what his mood was this morning. No chance that I had done something wrong. I wouldn’t have to pretend I was happy to see him or that I cared about his day. There would be no list of things texted to me that he expected me to accomplish. I was free. Perhaps being lost and running from the law wasn’t the ideal situation, but at least I wasn’t controlled. Locked away in a world, alone, with no way out.
Standing up, I made my way over to the bathroom, taking slow, easy steps. The bottle of ibuprofen that Maeme had left for me in the bathroom last night was my first order of business. I needed to be able to focus and not be so controlled by the pain. Then, I could hatch a plan. What I would say to Maeme to get her to understand. Part of me felt as if I could tell her the truth and she wouldn’t judge me. That she would help me get to the bus station. But there was the other part of me that said there was no way this woman was going to help me stay on the run from a murder I hadn’t even committed. She’d think I should tell the police. Confess as to why I had done this.
No. I couldn’t tell her. I had to get out of here though. If there was any chance that the police could find me, I was not dragging Maeme and King into this with me when all they had done was try and help a beat-up woman who they assumed was running from her husband or boyfriend.
There was a bottle of water left for me beside the ibuprofen, and I quickly washed down the pills before brushing my teeth. It took longer than normal to get myself looking presentable. The makeup didn’t cover my face as well today. The swelling on my lip was better, and the ointment that I’d been given for it helped where it was busted.
I decided wearing a sundress would be easier with my ribs, so I slipped on the only one that I had packed and found a lightweight cardigan to cover my arms until the sun warmed things up outside. Spring in Georgia could be tricky when it came to dressing.
Once I had all my things packed back in the suitcase and I made up the bed, I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
There wasn’t a clock in my room, and without a watch or a phone, I had no idea what time it was. The sun was bright enough that I knew it wasn’t too early. I made my way down the wide staircase and paused to look at the portraits on the wall.
There was one of a teenage King with a football uniform on, holding a football between his hands. Even then, his smile seemed to say, I know I’m charming and beautiful.
The next portrait was of an even younger King on a huge black horse. He had a cowboy hat on and was in mid-gallop. It was a stunning photograph.
“That boy was born loving to ride,” Maeme said from the bottom of the staircase.
I turned to look at her, and she smiled up at me.
“If he wasn’t throwing a ball back, then he was on a horse,” she said with a soft laugh. “I miss those days.” Then, she waved a hand at me. “Come on down. Let’s go have some breakfast and talk about what we’re gonna do. I reckon you can think of little else. I’m sure you’ve concocted a story that you think will convince me to let you leave. Might as well save your breath. I’m not hearing it.”
