Page 59 of Side Hustle
“Sure.” I waved for her to follow me to my truck, relieved she’d taken the deal. The money from the gold didn’t matter to me. I just wanted Hazel happy.
We got in my truck, Kendra’s gaze darting around constantly. The woman couldn’t sit still, her foot tapping out a rhythm only she could hear. I wasn’t an expert on substance abuse, but I had a feeling she had more in her system than just alcohol. I swung by Hill Hotel and Kendra nearly fell getting out of the truck.
“Be right back. Don’t go nowhere,” she told me before rushing off.
I tapped the steering wheel while she was gone, counting the seconds passing. I just wanted this over and done with. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long. Kendra came back out with a single duffle bag and zigzagged her way to the truck. Christ, she was a mess. The sooner I could get her out of town, the better for everyone.
She hopped in, and after two unsuccessful tries, got the door shut. I had to help her with the seat belt, but then we were on our way to the nearest bus station. I kept glancing over at her out of the corner of my eye, but she just stared out the window and watched the town flick by.
“Did you want to stop and say goodbye to Hazel first?” I knew Hazel didn’t want to see her, but maybe saying goodbye this time would give her some closure.
Kendra shook her head violently. “No. Nope. Just wanna get out of here.”
Rage flooded through me and I pressed on the gas a little harder. What a bitch. Didn’t even want to say goodbye to her own daughter. My heart would hurt for Hazel later. Right now all I felt was disgust for the sorry excuse for a person next to me. In my naiveté I’d hoped the money from the gold would go to helping her and her addiction, but maybe Hazel was right. Maybe some people were past helping. That in order to protect ourselves, we had to cut them off from sucking us dry.
Unfortunately, my question seemed to have uncorked her talkative side and I became subjected to a glimpse inside the brain of someone I didn’t care to get to know.
“I always hated this town. Couldn’t wait to leave. Hazel is just like me, you know.”
I snorted. Hazel was nothing like Kendra.
“We both have no focus. We’re flighty, always looking for the next exciting thing. It’s because we’re creative. Creative minds don’t like the same thing every day and that’s all Auburn Hill has to offer. She needs to fly away from here. Find her purpose in a busy city.” Kendra’s palms rubbed up and down her jeans manically. “The city always has something going on. Energy. People. I love it. Hazel would love it too if she just got the courage to try it.”
I’d heard just about enough. “Hazel loves Auburn Hill. She’ll settle down there and have a beautiful life with me. I can promise you that. In case you were worried at all about your daughter.”
Kendra shook her head and cackled. “You think you know her. Why do you think she has so many jobs? She can’t stay in one place long enough to have a career. You make her into a mayor’s wife with the meetings and the suits and the charity events, and she’ll run right out of town. Mark my words. She’s not meant for this place.”
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, resting against the headrest. A creepy smile stayed on her face. As the mile markers flashed by in my headlights, we exited town limits and headed down the highway. Kendra was wrong. Wrong about Hazel. Wrong about being a mayor’s wife.
But I also couldn’t deny the trickle of doubt that cramped my stomach. Sure, Hazel jumped from job to job, but that was just because she hadn’t found anything she wanted to make a career yet. Lots of people were like that, me included until just recently. Hazel had never once talked about wanting to move to the big city or even leave Auburn Hill. There was no way she was a flight risk. Then again, she’d never traveled, so how could you miss something you’d never experienced before? Thoughts swirled as I drove on. Today had been such a great day, but it was turning into a headache that wouldn’t quit.
A couple miles out from the bus station, Kendra’s head popped back up all of a sudden. I jerked the wheel and had to straighten back out before we ran off the road. Damn. The woman was terrifying.
“You should let her go so she can live her life in color,” Kendra said, slurring her words as if she hadn’t had an hour nap in between conversations. “We’re just products of our parents. You think Yedda is right in the head? That’s what will happen to Hazel if she stays in Hell. I thank God every day I had Hazel. It was the wake-up call I needed to get the hell out of town.”
Kendra hiccupped as I turned into the parking lot of the bus station and hit a bump. “You’ll pro’ly be just like your dad. Having affairs to escape a depressed Hazel and stealing money to feed your ego. It’s all a cycle, man. The only escape is to leave. Be on your own. That’s the only person you can count on.”
Well, fuck. This was the opposite talk I’d had with the chief. This chat made me want to bang my head against the wall and then slowly off myself with alcohol and junk food until I put myself out of my own pit of misery.
Woodenly, I handed her an envelope with the cash I’d had in my wallet to get her started and bank account information of where I’d send her money every month. She snatched it out of my hand, climbed out of the truck, and walked off without a backward glance.
Turning the truck around, I pulled out of the parking lot and made a snap decision. My headlights found the nearest bar and came to a stop. I needed a drink to clear my head before I could go home to Hazel. Right now I had too many negative thoughts traipsing through my brain to bring those home to my ray-of-sunshine girlfriend.
And I had one unanswered question to resolve: what if Kendra was actually right?
24
Hazel
I woke up before the sun the next morning with a start, my head whipping around to see Rip’s side of the bed perfectly smooth. He hadn’t come home last night. I’d called him at least thirty times after I got home from having a drink with the girls. My worry had escalated last night, so I’d called the chief, but he said he couldn’t do anything for twenty-four hours. He did agree to drive around and make sure Rip wasn’t in a car crash on the side of the road somewhere where his cell phone wouldn’t work.
Turns out Rip wasn’t on the side of the road. He simply hadn’t come home.
I pushed my hair behind my back and barely restrained myself from pulling it out, strand by strand. I was officially freaking out.
This wasn’t like Rip at all. He wouldn’t have made last-minute plans to be gone and not told me about them. First of all, Rip didn’t do last-minute plans. And secondly, he would have told me. We talked about everything, even if it was as boring as who stunk the worst at the FART factory. He had to be in danger.
I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my cell phone. There was one text from Amelia.
