Broken Dreams(253)
After several minutes of convincing, I was finally able to get her to come out to the cafeteria with the book that she was reading.
“How’s that?” I grabbed her a chair to prop her horribly swollen feet up on. She looked exhausted, but sleep was far from what the baby had planned. She said the little one would dance on her bladder all night long.
“That’s good, thanks.” She smiled at me, but I could see that she was still really uncomfortable.
“Are you sure? I can run back and grab your pillow, or a blanket?” She sighed. “Claire…just tell me what you need. I am more than happy to get it for you.”
“A pillow would be great.” She smiled.
“I will be right back.” I ran my hand across her shoulders as I left her for a moment, something I shouldn’t have done. I should have stayed with her. I didn’t realize how much I should have stayed with her…until I got back from retrieving her pillow.
***
“Both of you stay outside. I’m going to go in and grab a drink real quick before we explore a little.” Nick sighed. He was pissed. “I’m not going to apologize for it anymore. I promised Elaina that I’ll stop, and I will.” He swiftly turned on his heels and headed into the store where he stored the majority of his booze.
Nick looked over at Thomas. “Can you believe him? Sometimes I want to punch him in the fucking face,” he grumbled. “Elaina keeps saying that I have to be patient with him, but Christ! How fucking patient do I need to be?”
Thomas just stood there, nodding in agreement. That was one great thing about Thomas. Unless asked, he usually kept his opinions to himself. He tended to be a great sounding board for everyone. He wasn’t a huge fan of it, but if it helped everyone out, then he was willing to accept his fate. Nick paced around, while continuing to grumble over Henry and his drinking. Thomas was scanning the road, when saw something…or maybe someone.
Two someones.
“Nick,” he whispered. He didn’t respond. He was far too deep in his loathing of Henry’s drinking. “Nick!” he whispered louder.
“What!” He turned around.
“Look…” Thomas pointed down the road.
“Shit…I wonder if that’s him.” They both ran and hid in the bushes in the front of the school. “Just be quiet and watch.” Thomas nodded.
They watched from behind the bushes. An older, fit blonde man and a young girl, who was barely legal, walked into the town center, as if they were on a mission. They heard him speak to the girl.
British.
Nick looked at Thomas with huge eyes. He mouthed, Gunther. Then, of course, they went into the store that Henry was in.
“What do we do?” Thomas nervously asked.
“Just sit tight for a moment. If they’re in there too long, then we’ll go in.” Each second that ticked away seemed like an hour.
Nick’s entire body was on high alert. He hoped neither Elaina nor Claire came outside. The situation was far too dangerous. He didn’t want him or Thomas to go in and warn them, just in case they got into a fire fight.
The man that they presumed was Gunther came out of the store. He looked pissed and defeated. He was looking around the area, and took a few steps toward the road.
But then something odd happened.
The young girl stepped one foot out of the store, and said something to him. They couldn’t make out what it was, but the man rushed back in.
“Here we go. Give it a second or two, and we’ll go in.” They both swallowed hard, sweating those last couple of seconds.
***
Henry heard the door open to the store. He was in the small back storeroom, polishing off a bottle of scotch. At first, he thought it was Nick and Thomas, but he knew they would have called out to him and let him know it was them.
He screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it down on the shelf, careful not to make a sound. He flattened himself up against the wall and slithered his way to the door of the storeroom.
Two voices filled the store.
“Fuck,” a male mumbled. It was all Henry could do to control himself and keep hidden.
Gunther.
Henry’s body filled with rage and his hands shook. Then he heard a female speak. She sounded young, maybe a teenager.
“That was a great trip. Nothing better than walking fifteen miles for nothing.” She was full of attitude which, coincidentally, was very familiar to Henry.
“We had to try,” Gunther snapped. “There are three little ones that need to eat.” Little ones? Since when did he have children? Henry thought. Not surprising, though, since the douche was a fucking man whore to the maximum. He would dip his wick in anything that was breathing…or barely breathing.