Page 152 of American Hellhound
They did, him behind the wheel because he’d driven them over here. When the doors were shut, he turned to her, hands braced on the wheel. “Mags,” he repeated, almost desperate now.
Maggie folded her hands together in her lap and stared at them. Took a deep breath. She felt her pulse quiver in her throat, that fast flutter that meant crying was imminent. “There was a condition to your loan.”
“What do you mean?”
Another breath. This was so hard to say; her throat ached. “Dad was willing to cosign for you if I agreed to do something.”
“Maggie.”
“He said I have to move back home,” she said in a rush. “That’s the condition. You can have the money, if I move back in.”
It was silent a beat. Then: “Wellfuck that.”
She finally turned to look at him and saw stark naked terror in his eyes. It frightened her; it broke her heart. “I already said yes.”
“No. No, no, no, no, no.” His hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles going white. “That’s not happening.”
“Ghost–”
“No!” His shout was strangled, pained. He was panting, chest heaving. “You’re not living with those assholes again.”
“They’re not the worst parents in the world,” she reasoned. And they weren’t. Her mother was a tyrant, and Maggie hated living under her roof, but she wasn’t sure any parent on the planet would have gone along with a daughter who ran away and lived with her much older boyfriend.
“Mags–” His eyes were wide and wet, his voice wrecked. “Why are you…?”
It hurt to breathe. She said, “We both knew we weren’t going to be able to get away with this living arrangement long-term–”
“Both? No. I didn’t knowshit.”
“It’s a miracle no one’s called the police,” she said, talking over him. The pain was sharp, right through both lungs and under her arms. She had to keep going, get it all out, before she stopped being able to speak completely. “I’m sixteen. My guidance counselor is asking about it, the leaders of all the clubs I’ve skipped out on…” It was a crushing weight, suddenly, the responsibility she’d shirked.
But it was a weight she’d happily carry if it meant she didn’t have to see Ghost this broken again.
“When I went out of the office, did you hit your head? Did he feed you happy pills or something? This isinsane.”
Gloves off, then. “It’s the best way to get you a loan. It’s theonlyway, if we’re honest. Your uncle sucks, and you’ve got no credit, and no friends in high places – Ghost, this is it. This is your only shot at opening the garage.”
His bit his lip, hard, and turned away from her, looking out through the windshield. The wheel looked in danger of snapping between his fingers. “They’re manipulating you.”
“Duh. I know that.”
“Then why the fuck are you going along with it?”
“Because I want you to have your garage. I want you to make the money that you need. To not have to depend on Duane so much.” She laid her hand on his thigh. “Let me help you.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I need you.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them away. She couldn’t break down, not yet. “I’m moving. I’m not leaving you.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched.
I take it back, she wanted to say.I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll stay. Fuck my parents, we’ll find another way.But there was no other way. So she said, “I’m doing this, Ghost. Please take the money and put it to good use.”
He started the car.
~*~
The day Olivia left was, surprisingly, not the worst day of his life. That honor went to the day Mama and Cal died – rain streaking down the window above the sink, Dad’s hand white-knuckled on the phone, swish of windshield wipers, smell of bleach at the hospital. When Olivia left, it had felt correct, almost, the last slam of the door, the blank, too-white patches on the walls where she’d taken down their family photos…and burned them over the sink with his favorite lighter. Nothing had rivaled the day he saw his baby brother’s corpse in the morgue. Nothing until now.
