Page 9 of Renegade

He found a blanket lying near the couch and tossed it over to me. “Joshua, Lauren. Call me Joshua. We’re beyond formalities at this point.”

I wrapped the blanket around me and headed toward the small bedroom near the back of duplex to find something to wear. Joshua stood silently outside the door, waiting for me to change, before instructing me to grab anything I needed.

The night air was warm and slightly sticky from the recent storm, yet I shivered uncontrollably in the passenger seat of his Ford Taurus. I pulled the blanket from the floorboard and wrapped it around my shoulders as we pulled into a fast food parking lot. The smell of greasy, fried food wafted in through the vents and my stomach grumbled painfully.

Joshua didn’t ask questions; he just pulled through the drive-through and ordered three separate meals and watched me devour two of them like an animal.

I ate until my stomach felt as if it would explode before making eye contact with him again. His lips were pursed together as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. “How long has it been like this, Lauren?”

I swallowed a sip of Dr. Pepper before answering, “It’s always been like this. Monica’s a little neglectful, I guess.”

His eyes almost bugged out of his head. “A little neglectful? Mija, you were living inmiseria absolutaand you call that a little neglectful? Jesus—what if I hadn’t shown up, huh? Those men—they would’ve raped you…or worse.Ay Dios mío!”

He was so worked up that he kept switching between the two languages, while I struggled to follow along. I closed my eyes and leaned against the window as he continued his tirade. Apparently, he’d shown up to visit with my mom about my behavior. He hadn’t been able to reach her by phone and didn’t trust me to give her the letter the school sent home.

I cracked one eye open and looked over when he paused to take a breath. “Can you take me back home now?”

He put the car in reverse. “No, I’m not taking you back to that hellhole. You’ve been going without electricity or running water—that’s unacceptable. No, you’re coming home with me until we figure out something else. I’ll keep you safe,Mija—you have my word.”

I was too exhausted to argue, so I settled for a small nod and went back to staring out the passenger window. It wouldn’t last. Monica would get her shit together long enough to get me back and I’d be right back where I started.

It didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted though.

Chapter Two

2001, age 18

“You can’t surf for shit. Didn’t you say you grew up around the water?” The kid laughed before pushing his damp dark hair out of his face as I struggled to get back on my feet.

Ever since I got my license two years ago, I’d been making the drive from Beaumont to Galveston anytime I was free. I’d seen the kid in front of me almost every time I’d shown up. He worked atA-Frame Surfon Seawall and had sold me my first board.

So, maybe I’d stretched the truth when I said that I’d grown up on the water. There’d been a playa lake near our house,so that counted for something, right?

Mom and I had been down here for going on five years. Almost five whole years without my father. Grey had shown up in the middle of the night and moved us out of Lubbock, but I hadn’t held out hope of my old man not finding us. I’d been half awake as he’d lifted my lanky thirteen-year-old body out of bed and carried me out to an unfamiliar pickup truck.

Once he had me settled in the back seat, he’d turned to my mom and drawn out a map of where she needed to go. I pretended to be asleep as he explained which towns to avoid on our route. My mom had started to cry and Grey pulled her into a hug.

“Betsy, he won’t find you—I’ll make sure of it. He’s going to be gone on a run for the next three nights. Once he gets back, we’ll pretend to look into it, but he’ll never be in the same town as you or Mikey again.”

I remembered thinking that he was protecting us from the bad guys. It wasn’t until we’d settled into our new home that I realized he was protecting us from my father. I hadn’t seen the point to it. I’d already witnessed the murder of two people; how much worse could it get? My old man was hell bent on me turning out just like him and working my way up in the club, while Grey apparently didn’t think I was cut out for club life.

My mom had become a new person almost overnight. Grey had supplied a house and enough money to ensure that we didn’t have to worry about anything. So, she’d joined a women’s group from church and focused on making friends in our new community.

I heard a strange noise when I was up in my room doing homework one rainy Saturday. When I crept downstairs, I found her humming to herself as she baked pies in the kitchen. Flour coated almost everything, but she had a big smile on her face nonetheless. I’d stared at her for what seemed like hours, certain that she’d been abducted by aliens. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen her smile so freely.

We’d only been in Beaumont for a little over a year when we got word that Grey had been killed. There weren’t a lot of details included in the anonymous letter—just that he’d been gunned down by a rival club member. We were told that he’d left us money, which would be wired to us over the next few days.

My mother had dropped the letter onto the kitchen counter and promptly disappeared for the rest of the evening. I’d sat on the stool nearby, reading the words over and over until I knew them by heart. I didn’t cry—I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to fall apart. He’d have tucked a finger under my chin and told me to be brave for my mama. I’d wondered if Kate and her baby sister, Dakota, were being brave like me.

My mother emerged from her bedroom around lunch-time the next day, her eyes bloodshot. She hadn’t said a word before pulling me into her arms and rocking me on the couch. I think she was afraid that my dad would find us without Grey there to misdirect him.

“You gone deaf from that fall, Mike? I’m talking to you.” I tried to recall the kid’s name—Patrick. Or was it Roy? Either way, the guy had been a royal pain in my ass from day one. Rich little shit thinking he owned the beach.

“Hey, don’t listen to him, Mike. The guy’s a poser.” My best friend, David, panted as he dragged his board up on the damp sand beside us. He shook his head like a dog, sending water spraying off him in every direction.

His mother was in the same church group as mine. They’d introduced us when I was thirteen and he was fifteen and we’d been inseparable ever since. His dad, John, was in construction and reminded me a lot of Grey—down to the tattoos on his arms.

David was the most unassuming person I’d ever met. He didn’t ask about my life in Lubbock, he just wanted to know if I had any good video games. After that, I was in.

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