Page 72 of Let Me
I take a shaky breath but dig my nails into my palms to keep myself from crying. As if focusing onthatpain will prevent the hole in my heart from aching.
“I’m so sorry, hon.” She kisses my head. “I can’t imagine.”
But she can. Kind of. Dad left us easily enough. I don’t really blame him, to be honest. Many times, I wanted to leave her, too. I’m not sure what kept me by her side all this time. Maybe the realization that I had nowhere else to go.
“Mom,” I say, voice soft.
Her hand stops stroking my hair. “Yes?” She must hear something in that word, because she stills beneath me. I think she’s holding her breath.
“We’ve really got to be careful with our money.”
We always have to be careful with our money. But I don’t know what kind of damage I’m going to take from this. It’s not that I’m an important person. I’m a veryunimportantperson in the world at large. But Rolland Virani is important. He’s powerful. He could end my job. My schooling. He could take what little I have away from me and Mom.
“Did something happen, Riley?”
I almost laugh out loud at that. Now she wants to know. Something did happen, I want to tell her. Something happened whenyouwere supposed to beparentingme. But I don’t tell her. I keep it in. I don’t want to deal with this right now. I may never want to deal with this.
I shake my head.
“What happened?” she asks again, quieter now.
I climb off of her lap, stand and lean my head against the wall, looking at the warped linoleum floors. The thin, off-white carpet of the small living room furnished with one lumpy couch we got at a yard sale.
I blow out a breath. “It’s a long story. One I don’t feel like telling right now.”
“Is someone hurting you, Ry?” Her brow is furrowed. Once, she was beautiful. She still is, really, but the drugs took a toll on her. She has more lines than she should, and her face is kind of pinched. Hollow. Her hair more brittle than it should be.
I take in her green eyes, a mirror of my own.
I shake my head. “Not anymore,” I answer her. And then, despite the fact that soon my life might get turned upside down yet again, I feel a lightness in my chest. A freedom. Like I can breathe again.
Rolland doesn’t own me anymore.
THE LIGHTNESS DOESN’T LAST.
I decide to drop out of school. We need more money, and if Rolland comes after me with this video, I don’t want to deal with the fallout. Maybe if I drop out now, I can go back later, when this has blown over. When they won’t care what I’ve done, because it won’t have reflected poorly on them.
I take the bus to the gym where I work. Briar is a small town with lousy public transportation and the bus ride is long and hot and miserable, but I’m still fine with it. It’s all I’ve ever known here. Rolland can’t really sink me more than I’ve already sunk.
Shane is there when I walk through the doors but otherwise it’s pretty empty, which is unsurprising considering it’s 2:00 pm on a Wednesday.
He’s wearing a sleeveless tank top, white, and his tan muscles are bulging beneath it. He has a cheery grin on his face when he sees me. He straightens from ducking behind the desk to grab a spray bottle and thuds it down on the counter.
“Well, well, well, look who finally showed up for work.”
I smile, even though it’s fake as shit.
“I’m really sorry,” I begin, placing my palms on the counter across from him. “But Shane…I need more hours.”
He frowns, and I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. His blue eyes are searching mine, like he’s looking for theWhy. But I don’t give him one. Finally, he nods, and I feel something loosen in my chest.
“Okay,” he agrees, without asking a single question except, “when can you work?”
I tell him, casually, that I won’t be in school anymore, and although I know he wants to pry, to find out what the hell is going on, he doesn’t ask, and I’m grateful. It’s something I’ve always liked about Shane. He’s so happy and content in his own world, he doesn’t need to bother with other people’s. Instead, he changes my shift. Noon to close is perfect, because it gives me time in the mornings to grab some hours at a coffee shop.
My next stop is school, and that’s the worst stop of all.
I was one year away from graduating.
