Shattered King(7)

Now I had my chance. I knew her well enough to know she’d risk coming back to see her mother, and I’d be waiting when she did.

I was at the elevator when Van called my name. “Don’t do this. Just . . . leave it.”

Neco had a big fucking mouth. I shook my head and turned to face my brother. “Can’t do that.”

“We don’t need her for this job and you know it. What could she possibly say to change what happened? What’s done is done. Nothing can get those years back.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “We’ll get Pierce. But this has to be a long game.”

“You’re telling me you could leave it? Just forgive, forget?” A throb started at my temples.

Van shook his head. “She doesn’t want to be found. I think it’s better for everyone if you keep it that way.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“When it comes to Lulu, you don’t think straight. You don’t act smart.”

Hearing Van say her name out loud scored a direct hit. The rest of it made me want to punch something. Preferably my brother’s face. I hit the button on the elevator.

“You’re not gonna stop, are you.” Van didn’t pose it as a question because he knew the answer.

The elevator slid open and I stepped inside. “Not until I’ve looked into her eyes and asked her why she did it.”

The doors slid shut on my brother’s scowling face.

Lulu

My beat-to-shit, old-as-dirt Honda Accord backfired when I pulled to a stop in Aunt Sara’s driveway. Even though it was dark, I could see the last puff of toxic, gray smoke exploding from the exhaust pipe as I shut off the engine.

So much for stealth.

I had no idea what I’d do about this latest bit of drama. It started about an hour ago and I’d spent the entire sixty minutes clutching the steering wheel in the death grip of all death grips, as if that would stop my car from crapping itself.

I took a minute, not ready to get out, trying to pull it together. I hated this out of control feeling growing inside me. I was a fighter. I’d been scratching and clawing my way through life for a while now. Did whatever necessary to keep Josh safe, to make sure I’d always be there for him. The fact that I couldn’t do anything for my mom was tearing me apart.

I felt like I was hovering above myself, looking down on someone else, some other girl. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. I wasn’t meant to be living this fucked-up freak show of a life. Always looking over my shoulder, always moving, hiding. Struggling to feed my kid. If it weren’t for my aunt, some weeks I wouldn’t have managed.

I thought I was prepared for it. Mom had been sick for a long time, spent more time in the hospital than at home. Still, the news had hit me like a sledgehammer. Three weeks, that’s all she had, maybe less. I hadn’t seen her for almost three years, but I’d known she was there. I liked knowing she was there, that if I ever got the chance to come back, she’d be waiting.

I’d already decided it was time to pack up and move on from Lawrence. I liked Indiana just fine, but staying in one place for too long was stupid, careless, and I’d already been there longer than I should. It was a risk coming home, a huge risk, but I had to see my mom one more time. I had to.

Josh let out an earsplitting wail in the back, scattering my thoughts, and kicked his legs. To say he’d had enough of being stuck in his car seat was an understatement.

“We’re here, baby.” I climbed out quickly and opened his door, pulling him out of his booster before he woke the neighbors.

His legs kept kicking. “Down.”

My son was independent. He’d informed me a week ago that he was a “big boy” and only babies got carried around. Unless they were sleepy and wanted snuggle time, of course. I put him on his feet, his little hand firmly held in mine. The porch light above Sara’s front door flicked on.

It opened a second later and my aunt walked out. My two-year-old big boy wrapped himself around my leg and popped his thumb in his mouth. Something he’d been doing since he was a few months old.

“Lucinda? Is that you, bunny?”

My breath caught in my throat at the sound of her voice. “Yeah, it’s me.” It was all I could get out. Tears clogged my throat, and I had to swallow repeatedly to stop from falling apart. We talked all the time, but I hadn’t seen her since I ran. It’d only been me and Josh all this time, and seeing her, her slight frame moving toward me in her fluffy blue robe and pink slippers, hit me hard.

Then she was standing in front of me. She was short like me, like my mother. I probably had an inch on her five-foot-three inches. But when she wrapped her arms around me, her hold strong and warm, I felt like a little girl. I never wanted to let go. I wanted to come home and let her take care of us, like she begged every time we spoke. I’d been on my own so long, had been forced to be strong, to fight every damn day, and sometimes, I just wanted to give in, to not have to think about . . . anything.