Page 23 of Everything We Give

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

“Jackie.”Bitch,he thought to himself and then felt guilty for thinking it in the first place.

“Much better.” She grinned. It wasn’t his mom’s smile.

Jackie accelerated. The car sped along the two-lane road, taking them farther from town.

Ian took a deep breath and slowly, as quietly as he could, removed the lens cap. He called up his bravery and lifted the camera to his face. He brought Jackie into focus and snapped a photo. The flash went off.

Jackie’s head swiveled. She glared at him.

Ian snapped another photo, capturing her twisted expression, her skin blotchy from anger and the wind. She flipped him off.

He pressed the shutter button. The bulb flashed again.

Jackie braked, swerving to the side of the road. Ian swayed violently in the backseat. She thrust the gear stick into Park and dumped the contents of Sarah’s purse on the front seat. She opened the wallet and swore. “There’s barely any cash.” She pocketed a five and flashed Ian the ATM card. “Did you get the PIN?”

He shook his head.

“You promised you’d get the PIN.”

He’d also promised himself he’d protect his mom when his dad couldn’t. He had no intention of breaking that promise.

“She wouldn’t tell me.” Because he hadn’t asked her.

“Of course she won’t tell you, you moron.” She cuffed his ear. Ian winced. “You’re supposed to watch her withdraw the cash and memorize the numbers.”

“You make me wait in the car.”

Ian realized his slip as soon as he spoke.

“I don’t make you. Sarah does. I’m not Sarah!” she shrieked. “Sarah’s weak. She has no guts. That’s why I have to do everything for her.”

“What do you have to do for her?”

Jackie glowered at him. He squared his shoulders. He had to show her she couldn’t intimidate him even though he quaked in his worn Vans.

She looked at him in disgust, then shoveled the contents back into his mom’s purse.

“No PIN, no ride. Get out of the car.”

“What?” Ian scanned the area around them. They were in the middle of nowhere. Open fields sprawled outward in all directions.

Jackie leaned over the seat and snapped the latch on Ian’s door. “I said get the fuck out.”

Something about the timbre of her voice kept Ian’s rear glued to the vinyl. He didn’t move. He couldn’t move, his legs were shaking so badly.

Jackie grabbed a pen and pressed the end deep into her neck where it threatened to pierce her skin. “Get out or I stab myself. You’ll never see your mom again.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ian dared.

“Don’t test me.” She pressed harder. A pin drop of blood pooled.

Ian’s belief Jackie would never harm him, let alone herself, blew out the car with a gust of wind. He scrambled from the station wagon.

“Close the damn door,” Jackie shouted when Ian just stood there.

He slammed the door.

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