Body trembling, she stumbled to the side of the room where Little One, who was now awake, sat.
Teenaged eyes filled with tears, she stared at me, an emotion I couldn’t read etched on her freckle-covered face.
“Get out!” Carmen screamed, pulling my attention back to her. “And never come back here again!”
Exhausted, my pixie collapsed.
Plopping onto the ground, she wrapped an arm around Little One, pulling her into her side. “If you do, then I swear to Cristo himself you won’t walk back out.”
Her threat was clear.
But I gave zero fucks.
“I’ll be back,” I told her, sliding my med bag onto my shoulder. “And I won’t stop coming around until I pull you and your girls from the fucked-up situation you somehow found yourselves in.”
Every word was the truth.
She could kick my ass, rip out my intestines, whatever, but she would have to wait until I’d torn both her and her girls from the wreckage in which they were trapped. The only reason I didn’t do it that night was because Chiquita was missing.
But one day, she’d be there.
And when she was, I’d save them all.
Nine
James
The following week, I slept for shit.
Sleep had never been easy for me, but with thoughts of Carmen occupying my mind at every turn, I found myself tossing and turning a hell of a lot more than usual.
Determined to free her—and the girls—from the dangerous situation they were in, constant scenarios and plans of escape raced through my head without end, making rest something I no longer got.
Ready to act, I was about to lose it.
Unfortunately for my disgruntled ass, before I could fight with everything I had to help them, I first had to deal with the person who stood by my bed as I woke on my back after a night of shit sleep and endless nightmares, half-delirious and still drunk from sleep.
Nearing noon, the sun had long before risen, but thanks to the navy-colored drapes covering the window, my bedroom was bathed in darkness.
Yet despite the near blackness, I still noticed the shadow standing next to my mattress, its ominous form looming over mine. Jaw clenched, I fisted my right hand, a prefix to beating the hell out of whatever fool had been stupid enough to break in.
In the middle of the day, I might add.
Hoping to take them by surprise, I jerked upright in bed, giving them no time to react. “You mother—”
“If you even think of whackin’ me with that big ol’ meat cleaver you call a fist, I will snatch your dadgummed balls slap off and make wind chimes out of em’!”
Light blinded me as the intruder—one whose Southern accent and crazy-ass threat I recognized right away—turned on the lamp seated on my nightstand next to me. “Now get your lazy derriere outta bed before I yank you out by your tallywacker. It’s almost doggone noon.”
Eyes narrowed behind her turquoise-framed glasses, the Crazy Old Biddy from next door glared at me when I didn’t move fast enough for her liking. “Well,” she snapped, hands finding her rounded hips. “Are you gonna get up or do I need to take action?”
Shaking my head, I managed to find my voice. “What the hell are you sneaking into my bedroom for, Grandmama? Do you have any clue what I almost—”
“You didn’t almost do a dang thing,” she interrupted, chin in the air.” ‘Cause you know what would’ve happened if you did. But just in case you need reminding”—she beamed a glare my way—“I would’ve shot you right in your tush after I castrated your purdy self.”
Leaning to the side, she looked around me, trying to get a glimpse of what I assumed was my ass. Thankfully the crazy old perv couldn’t see much.
“I’ll get up,” I said, clutching the plain white sheet covering my lower half tight, “when you get out.”
“What’s the matter, big boy?” she chided, a lascivious smirk on her face. “You don’t want me to see you in your Superman underpants or something?”
“I don’t sleep in underwear,” I shot back without thinking. “Hell, I don’t sleep in anything.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“Well in that case…”
Turning, she hobbled across the room, her pink, slipper-covered feet pattering lightly against the hardwood with each step. Taking a seat in the old rocking chair next to my window, she pushed open the drapes, letting the sunlight in.
“Go on and get outta bed,” she urged, smiling. “I’m just gonna sit here and make sure you don’t fall. You know how us aging folk are. Sometimes our old bodies don’t wanna work right, and our legs have a tendency to give slap out.” Smile growing, she began to rock. “But don’t you worry none. If you fall and hit your head, I’ll make sure I give you CPR while I wait for the ambulance.”
I didn’t move. The woman was going to drive me as batshit as her one day. “Grandmama, I mean no disrespect, but what in the Sam Hill is wrong with you?”
“Listen here,” she replied, pointing an aged finger my way. “Just ’cause I’m older than dirt doesn’t mean I’m deader than a doornail yet. If I wanna enjoy the sight of a tight rump here and there, then heavens to Betsy, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
She leaned forward, her back hunching. “Now, are you gonna get up and give an old lady with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel what she wants?” Waggling her eyebrows, she pulled her glasses down to almost the tip of her nose. “Or do I need to come steal the sheet?”
Before she could do such a thing, I was up and moving. Sheet wrapped around my waist, I headed for my bathroom, shaking my head the entire way. “If you want to see a naked ass, then head on into Charleston or Atlanta and find an all-male strip club.”
“Now that sounds like a mighty fine idea,” she replied. “Too bad they don’t open
