Page 7 of Lenkov

Chapter Two

Rylee

I’m screwed. Up a creek without a paddle, fubar’d. Gripping the handlebar of the expensive sport utility vehicle, I watch the landscape go by. He hasn’t let us out of his sight other than using the bathroom since he appeared on my front porch.

How the hell did he find out where I lived?I underestimated him.Had he known who I was for the past six months and just not made his move?

Questions swirl in my head like fog, making my thoughts hazy and linear-thinking impossible. Shifting in my seat, I glance back at Jaycee, playing obliviously with his dinosaurs in the backseat. This car costs more than I make in two years. I wince as my stomach protests, seizing my nerves with cramps.

A pulsing base pours through the speakers. Lenkov turns the volume up slightly, and I hold my breath. Leaning over the console slightly, he frowns. The anger burning in the coals of his eyes terrifies me. This is a man with blood on his hands. How far is he willing to go to exact his revenge? We need to talk, but my tongue’s glued to the roof of my mouth for the past hour.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he whispers. The words are short and clipped.

“I. No. I don’t know.” I shake my head, unable to articulate.

“You don’t know?” He repeats slowly.

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

His head snaps toward me. I know this is the last expression some have seen before they died. He’s a vengeful god ready to eradicate an entire kingdom for disobedience.

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

“Most men don’t,” I whisper honestly.

“You’ve been hanging around the wrong ones.”

“Tell that to my father,” I whisper snarkily. Immediately regretting my response, I cover my mouth with my hands. Lenkov could eat me for breakfast.

“Turn left on Crane Road in 300 yards.” The mechanical voice of the GPS saves my ass.

He returns his attention to the road, but the tick in his jaw speaks volumes. This is far from over. If he expects me to roll over and show my belly when it comes to our son, he’s in for a rude awakening. I’ve been advocating for him since he was born. I won’t stop. Even now, I’m plotting our escape. I don’t want my boy caught up in a war that ends in burned-down homes and shootouts. I see the news. Will they expect my boy to turn into a killer with dead eyes? Unshed tears burn my retinas. I blink them away. I refuse to let him see me weak. For the past five years, I have held it down. His arrival doesn’t negate that.

Shame sours my stomach. The eviction notice was anticipated, but it remains a source of anger and shock. It should be illegal to change the rent this drastically without warning. I’m not the only person living hand to mouth, and an increase of even one hundred dollars can make or break a person. I feel like I’m failing my child, but logically, I know I’m caught up in the squeeze of inflation that far surpasses a living wage increase. However, I’ll have to relocate, anyway. We can start fresh somewhere else if I take the money in my account and run. Leaning down, I cover my face with my hands and take a few deep breaths. I lied. He doesn't know that I have no more paperwork. I’m going to use that opportunity to run.

I can do this. There’s no other choice.

Sitting up, I exhale. The new facility looms ahead like a gothic castle, ready to witness sorrows. It’s a beautiful space with a nice wooded area, plenty of places to sit in the sun, a few residents, and highly rated care. We’re fortunate to get her a spot. But it feels like a final goodbye. Facing the reality of her latest decline has shaken me to the core. Swallowing it down, I put it to the back of my mind to deal with at a later date. Today is about survival and freedom. I’ve struggled too long to hand it over to some stranger because he shares my son’s DNA and has an ungodly amount of money. Lenkov will learn that cash does not make him a god in my eyes.

I’ll send Lenkov back the way he came because when it comes to my child, I’m the ultimate Mama bear. Drawing strength from my reserves, I lean back into the seat as we turn into the driveway. Putting the car into park, he shuts off the engine, and I hear a bell ding, signaling the start of the first round in a boxing match. I turn and smile at Jaycee.

“Remember the rules bout Aunt Reen?”

“Uh-huh. Her forgets things and gets confused, but she’s not mad at me. Just sick.” Jaycee peers up at me. “Right, Mama?”

“That’s right, little man.” I ruffle his hair.

“Maybe he shouldn’t be here if she’s that—.”

“Uh-uh.” I run my flat-handed left hand over my throat.

His nostrils flare.

“We’ve been doing this together since he was born. I will not punish my aunt or deprive him of the time he’ll have with her because she has Alzheimer’s. I would never place him in a position where he’d be hurt emotionally or physically. If you know nothing else about me, know that.”

Lenkov presses his lips together.

Please fight me on this.

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