Page 9 of Naked or Dead


Font Size:  

I beat him to the punch and hold up the black leather square, full of bank cards and cash and likely his ID. His smile fades and his eyes go to the wallet. It really is quite full of some serious dollar. I should have snuck a few out of it.

“You dropped your wallet.” I hold his gaze and his dark eyes lose the hardness they had.

He tries to snatch it from my hand while sneering at me. “Don’t touch anything that belongs to me, belegana.” I move my hand away, keeping it out of reach.

“Okay, so I should have just let somebody else pick it up and steal your cash? I’ll do that the next time your irresponsible ass can’t keep track of your shit in my path.” I slap it against his chest so hard the sound echoes around the hall and his chest muscle twitches under the force. He grits his teeth. “You’re welcome.”

He catches it before it falls past his waistline and watches me saunter away, flipping him off over my shoulder as I go. I catch the eyes of Barbie and her squad; she surprisingly gives me a sympathetic smile.

Sympathy over what?

I’ve got Nok exactly where I want him.

“We have to make our own luck,” my sister says, picking at the food on her plate. She’s not been eating much of anything lately. “You’ve got to stop picking so many fights.”

“I enjoy it. It gives me something to focus on before Mom makes us leave again.”

She laughs under her breath, her pink lips stretching and showing a slight tinge of blue around the edges.

“You’re cold,” I say, frowning.

She nods so I race into the den to grab her favorite mustard yellow throw. I drape it over her shoulders and pull free her dark brown braid. “I’m feeling a lot weaker than usual today.”

“That’s the drugs,” I respond. “You need to take them earlier and eat more.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, casting her sad hazel eyes to her plate again where she proceeds to push it around with her fork some more. “Do you want this?”

“No, I’ll put it in the oven, it’ll keep for Mom.”

“If she ever gets home.”

We laugh gently together. Mom is struggling with Willow’s decline, so she finds any excuse to work out of the house. And when she’s home, Willow finds any excuse to be in her room.

“Thanks for cleaning my jacket for me.”

She smiles again and shivers again.

Fuck. I hate this. I hate seeing her this fragile.

“Why were you so late coming home after school?” she asks, coughing violently the moment the question ends. She sounds terrible. I wait for her to start breathing again, letting her squeeze my hand as the coughing takes over her entire body.

I take her arm and guide her to the stairs while replying, “I just had a couple of errands to run.”

I followed Nokosi home as discreetly as possible, not easy through the res where every road is essentially private, I had to hang back so far I almost lost him a few times.

I was… surprised by what I saw. By the amount of cash that was in his wallet and the type of truck he owns I expected to see him living by some fancy casino in a mansion with a butler. An exaggeration of course. Instead he lives in what can only be described as a modernized log cabin, big enough for a very small family. There were others in the distance and even a couple of tiki huts from what I could see using my binoculars through the thick trees.

But at least now I know where he lives.

“And how much longer until we move again?”

The million-dollar question. “Hopefully not too soon, it’s real pretty here.”

“I might go out later—” She stumbles and starts coughing again.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re a walking corpse.”

She tries to laugh but it makes her choking worse.

We wait for it to pass before she croaks a husky, “Okay, I’m going to sleep. Is that cool?”

I nod, taking a lot of her weight as we make our way up the staircase. My body aches still but it’s nothing compared to how she’s feeling. “So long as it’s cool with you that I go out on my bike.”

“Your jacket is behind your bedroom door.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“You owe me.”

I roll my eyes. “I think I do enough for you already.”

Grinning, she pads into her bedroom, blows me a kiss, and shuts the door. I race to my own and grab my jacket before pulling it on, feeling confident that I know the layout of the reservation now. I know where it ends, and I know where to avoid.

I’m not sure I should even be going back out, not with the state my body is in right now, but I need to. I need to get my head on straight and this is how I do it. Not in Dad’s shitty Prius.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com