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Misfit(123)

By:Kathryn Kelly


“I wish Kendall would tell me that. Can you talk—”

“No.” She sniffed. “I haven’t quite forgiven her for telling Bunny, Zoann, and Fee that I need to suck Christopher off on behalf of her.”

Johnnie’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“You heard me. I got an earful from Bunny. She was so furious with Kendall. I’m doing my part with Christopher, but Kendall will give herself away if she keeps it up with Zoann and Bunny.”

“Megan!”

At Outlaw’s call, Meggie turned, going to where Outlaw sat at his table, without another word.

“We so fucked,” Mort complained. “Get Red in line before Prez find out about that dinner party.”

“He’d fuck us all up,” Digger concluded with worry.

“Stretch, it’s quarter after three.” Val nodded to the clock. “If you going, you need to hit the road.”

“You’re right,” Stretch agreed. He shook each of their hands, sorry to leave and miss whatever they decided about this situation. Maybe, Cash would fill him in. “Thanks for coming to offer condolences.”

“Together we stand,” Mort reminded him.

“Together we fall,” Johnnie added.

Meggie hurried over and hugged Stretch as Outlaw followed her, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Call us if you need anything,” Meggie said.

“Thanks.” He held out his hand to Outlaw, curious about Fee. “Everything okay?”

“My lil sister tellin’ me she been busy and ain’t had a chance to spend time with her friends. She goin’ away with some bitch name Blue, from a fuckin’ yoga class.”

Fee did yoga? That was news to Stretch, but it explained why she hadn’t picked up. With a last goodbye, he headed outside, thankful for the sunbreak, although clouds hung in the distance.

“You sure you okay headin’ out alone?” Outlaw asked as Stretch got on his bike.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Keep your fuckin’ head up. Don’t let no motherfucker bring you down.”

“I’ll try,” Stretch mumbled, then rode away, ignoring the doubts plaguing him.

Once he forced himself to board the plane, Stretch looked out the window, wondering what would this trip bring? Closure? Or more heartache?

Both Cash and Outlaw thought Stretch should rejoice that his father was gone and not go to Kansas City. His father’s death left a void in him, trapping him between despair and emptiness.

“Hey.”

Stretch started at the sound of Fee’s voice, sure he was hearing things. Turning his head, he met her brown eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

She slid into the seat next to him. “I couldn’t let you go through this alone.”

“Neither of us could,” Cash said from the seat behind. “Money and first class tickets for some travelers talk.”

“As does bribes to get seats close to you.”

“Outlaw called me and told me your flight number as I requested,” Cash went on. “I called Fee.”

Wrapping his arm around Fee, he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, his loneliness deserting him in an instant.





The plane landed five minutes behind schedule at close to eight that night. None of them had check-ins, so they got a shuttle to the car rental place. By the time they hopped on the 435, darkness had descended. They were tired and hungry

The drive to Stretch’s childhood home mirrored the plane ride. Under other circumstances, he might’ve looked forward to showing them some of the places he’d once enjoyed. Way back, when his family still acknowledged him.

“You know what I realized?” Fee said as he pulled into the crowded driveway of his mother’s house, and killed the engine of his rented Impala.

It felt odd to be in a car, caged up, knowing this would serve as his mode of transportation for the duration of his stay.

Stretch leaned against the headrest and studied the large front porch, illuminated by outside lights.

On hot summer days, his mom would read to him on the porch swing. So many times he’d fallen asleep against her. Come the morning, he’d awaken in his bed, carried there by his father. To be that innocent child again, whom his parents had loved. “What, Fee?” The reality of his father’s death hit him and he squeezed the bridge of his nose.

Fee laid her hand on his thigh. “I’ve never seen you drive a car before.”

“One of the last things my father ever taught me to do,” he admitted.

At the appearance of one of his cousin’s on the porch, Stretch tensed. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, Dillon grabbed the rusty railing and leaned forward, to better see inside the rental. The moment his cousin’s face darkened, Stretch knew he’d been recognized.