Breathe into Me (27 page)

In that moment, I hated my grandmother with every fiber of my being.

My grandma Jean babbled in my ear but I barely understood the words, just took pleasure in hearing her familiar, beloved voice. Apparently my aunt and cousins were all there and wanted to talk to me, too, but I had to get out what I needed.

“Grandma, I think I need your help with Davy.”

She listened intently as I haltingly told her what I’d discovered, my fears and uncertainties. It felt wonderful to have someone else to confide in, and while this was the most mature conversation I’d had with my grandma Jean, she didn’t treat me like a child. The fact that she believed me and took me seriously surprised me, although it really shouldn’t have. For so long I’d lived around people who belittled or scoffed at my opinions and observations—I hadn’t realized until then how much it had beaten me down.

My aunt got on the phone at one point to listen in, then my grandma spoke. “We’ll set this right, Lacey,” she said, that old familiar note of steel in her voice. “Keep us updated if you find anything else, but I’ll figure out what to do if I have to come down there myself.”

Relief flowed through me, and I sagged in the truck seat. “Let me know if you need anything,” I said, letting my head fall back over the bench seat.

“Now, your aunt and your cousins want to talk to you, but don’t sign off without saying good-bye to me.”

An hour later, I finally got off the phone with my family. My eyes were puffy but dry, and I couldn’t help but think I’d finally done something right. The conversation with my grandmother and aunt had been long but, I hoped, worthwhile. I’d told them everything I knew, even gave them the contact info from the security guard and Davy’s teacher, and they’d said they would take care of everything.

I prayed that was the case.

I had a family again, people who cared about me. I’d always had them, and it killed me to think about how much time I’d lost buying into my grandmother’s lies. They’d even asked me if I wanted to move home with them, and I couldn’t deny the offer was tempting.

It puzzled me why I didn’t take them up on the offer then and there, but that was something to contemplate another day. I was alternately thrilled and beat by the whole ordeal, and starting my truck, I left the lot and headed home.

It was almost dark when I finally arrived back at Cherise’s property. The bartender’s truck was there but I didn’t see any lights on inside. I needed to change clothes before I went and knocked on any doors, so I headed toward the pale yellow trailer that was my new home.

“Gotcha.”

I barely got the beginnings of a scream out when a thick hand clamped over my mouth. Arms dragged me backward into the darkness as I struggled to free myself, pulse racing. The hand over my face covered both my mouth and nose, whether by design or accident, making breathing difficult.

“I’ve been wondering where you got off to,” Macon murmured, laughing as I tried to butt his head with mine. “You can fight all you want, but you’re coming with me.”

Maneuvering my head around, I bit down around flesh and heard him howl. He hit me in the temple with the heel of his hand before I could get any sound out, and then he continued dragging me back.

“You got away last time, but there’s nobody to help you out tonight.” He kissed my neck, sending chills up my body. “You need to be taught a lesson, Lacey, and I’m more than up for the challenge.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, asshole.”

A shot went off from somewhere nearby me, the unexpected clap almost deafening. Macon fumbled his grip on me and I snatched myself away, landing heavily on my back. In the low light I saw Macon’s head dart frantically all around, trying to figure out who was shooting.

Another shot rang out, and there was the pop and hiss of a tire. Macon seemed to forget momentarily that someone was trying to kill him when he saw the damage to his truck. Two more booms sounded, hitting another large tire on his beloved truck and taking out the front lights.

“Who’s out there?” he shouted, circling around. “Who the
fuck
is shooting at my truck?!”

I stayed on the ground, figuring it was safer here than standing upright. Scooting backward on the red clay, I put distance between myself and Macon, who didn’t seem to notice my presence anymore. “Show yourself!” he screamed into the air when nobody answered, sounding more like a child throwing a tantrum than anyone formidable.

“Gladly.”

I’d recognized Cherise’s voice when first she spoke, but the woman looked somehow different, holding the long shotgun on a suddenly terrified Macon. She had on long pants and boots, as if she’d been out hunting in the wiry forest behind her property. The darkness wrapped around her like a cape, lending shadows to her expression that made it downright sinister. She looked as comfortable with that shotgun in her hands as she would be wearing a hat. Her eyes were fixed on Macon, lip curled ever so slightly in distaste.

“I wasn’t … She…” Macon moaned, and then gave a small, “Oh shit,” as Cherise levered the weapon up under his chin. I sat frozen on the ground, as shocked by the sudden turn as Macon.

“Boys like you think you’re so sneaky, don’t you? Thought you could come onto my property with that big truck and nobody’d notice.” Cherise’s eyes flickered to me. “He hurt you any, babe?”

I shook my head, scrambling to my feet. “Honest,” Macon said in a pleading voice, “I just wanted to talk to her. I wouldn’t have hurt her, I swear.”

“You know, I once believed the same story from a boy like you. Handsome boy, talked real sweet. He was my first kiss, but decided he wanted to go a little further than I did. “ Cherise gave a tight smile, her voice almost conversational. “Want to know what happened to him?”

Macon shook his head, eyes wide, but Cherise didn’t seem interested in listening. “Come on, let’s go for a walk and I’ll show you myself.”

“Cherise.” The other woman turned to look at me, and I shook my head. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or bluffing, but either way I wanted him gone. “Let him go.”

She squinted at me, frowning. “You sure?”

I shrugged. “No, but you’ve already scared the piss out of him.” I gestured toward his crotch. “Literally.”

Macon hunched over as a smile spread over Cherise’s face. “Well, look at that!”

“I’m going to bring the law down on your heads so hard,” Macon promised, his voice high and shrill. “You’ll rot in prison, I swear to you.”

“You realize you’re trespassing on someone else’s property in rural Mississippi, don’t you?” She cocked the shotgun again, and then looked at me. “What did you say his name was again?”

“Macon Gautier.”

Her mouth twisted. “Meh. Never liked that name.” She swung the gun down a little until it pointed toward the ground. It went off, spraying the clay at Macon’s feet, and he squealed.

I had to admit, it was a satisfying sound.

“If I ever find you on this property again, you’ll disappear. I know places to dump a body where you’ll
never
be found. If I hear that one hair on this girl’s head’s been touched, you’ll be the first person I’ll come after. Now, you got five seconds before I start aiming a little higher. One.”

Macon turned toward his truck, but stopped short when a spray of shotgun pellets peppered the expensive grille in front of him. Steam immediately rose out from around the hood. “Nope, that stays here as evidence. Two.”

He bolted down the driveway, meandering in a zigzag pattern. Cherise made a small approving sound. “He’s done this before.” Reaching behind her, she pulled another gun from her back waistband and called out, “Four!” Before I could say anything, she got off three shots.

“Don’t!” I cried as I heard Macon howl. He continued to run, albeit with an unsteady gait, back toward the main road.

Cherise held the weapon up to me. “Air gun, just shoots salt pellets. Doesn’t do too much damage at that distance, but they hurt like hell.” She rolled her eyes at my incredulous look. “Hey, if I can’t use real bullets, at least this way I still get to shoot the bastard.”

I watched Macon disappear, and a slow smile stretched across my lips. “Think you can teach me how to use that?” I asked, and Cherise laughed.

“Find me some time tomorrow, and I’ll teach you. Now, let’s go inside and have some of that gumbo I’ve got cooking.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re just a bit crazy.”

“Heh, all the time, but you’re the first today.”

* * *

It was a Tuesday when my mother showed up at the trailer.

I was helping Cherise do some weeding around her vegetable garden, so I didn’t hear the car pull up the long gravel driveway. It felt good to be helpful, seeing as how Cherise had been so good to me, but it also relieved some of the boredom. Living this far out in the country was often a lonely affair, so I appreciated her company.

Even now, nearly two weeks after I’d left the mansion, to think about Everett made my heart hurt. The worst part was that he never once tried to contact me, never texted or called. Maybe I could have held on to my anger if he’d been trying to force his way back into my life, but the silence told me so much more.

I missed him something terrible, but I couldn’t go back, not with what I knew.

“Lacey?”

The familiar voice startled me, and I turned around to see my mother standing behind me. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and I saw the way she twisted her fingers nervously, playing with the old wedding ring still on her hand. I was speechless with surprise, unable to think of what to say to her.

“Can I help you?” Cherise asked when nobody said anything.

That seemed to startle my mother out of her silence. She stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m Gretchen St. James, Lacey’s mother.”

“Ah.”

The simple word spoke volumes, and Cherise slanted a look over to me. I still wasn’t sure how to react myself, but stood up and took my gloves off. My mother was watching me, and I could see the nervousness in her eyes. She looked unsure about my reception, clearly expecting me to lash out, and that gave me a profound sense of sadness. Whatever she’d been the last four years, I still remembered the happy woman who had raised me, even if those memories seemed further and further away.

“Can I talk to my mom alone?” I asked, looking down at Cherise, who nodded.

“Let me take these veggies inside and I’ll meet you there, sound good?” She hefted the basket of cucumbers, green beans, and tomatoes. “Holler if you need me.”

I watched her walk toward the main house, then looked back at my mother. Now that we were alone, the silence was more awkward. I had no idea what to say to her, no clue how to start a conversation. Too much had happened since the last time we’d had a heart to heart, and I wasn’t even sure why she was here.

Gretchen took a shaky breath before speaking. “Your brother’s gone to Oregon. His aunt picked him up yesterday.”

“What?” A million questions danced through my head. “When did that happen? Why did you give him up?”

“Because I…” She looked away, clearing her throat. “Because he deserves more than this. And I’m moving out of your grandmother’s trailer.”

“Did she kick you out, too?” I said, surprised at the bitterness in my words.

She gave a humorless laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

I stared at her in shock as she continued. “Your grandma Jean managed to get my number, I guess from you. She told me about what happened with Davy in the store, said she could get signed witness accounts from both the clerk and the security guard, as well as Davy’s teacher at school. It didn’t matter though; my mother had already told me about it, hadn’t bothered to deny anything at all about what happened.

“Grandma Jean gave me an ultimatum: either I send him to live over there for a time, or they’d sic Child Services on me.” She closed her eyes. “I hate myself for how easy that choice was for me.”

“And Grandma didn’t like your choice,” I said in a soft voice. I saw the strain on my mother’s face—the decision hadn’t been an easy one. But a part of me hated her for waiting so long to grow a backbone.

“I didn’t tell her until after Davy was gone.” She wrapped her arms around her body as if suddenly chilled. “Your aunt Jeanine was the one who took Davy, and the looks she gave me.… We used to be close, she and I, but when your stepfather died, everything changed.”

“Father,” I corrected her. “He was my father.”

She stared at me, and then slowly nodded. “He was, he really was.”

“I needed you, Mama.” The words were ripped from me, and I saw her flinch. Tears streamed down my face as I continued. “You have no idea how much I needed your help, your support. You threw me to the wolves and watched as they chewed me to pieces every single day without raising a hand to stop it.
Why?
”

She wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell from her shaking shoulders that she was crying as well. “I was lost after your father died. I didn’t know what to do with myself, let alone a teenager and a baby. Your father…” She swallowed. “He pulled me out of my own private hell, gave me a good life and a good family. When he died, I felt like I’d lost everything. I came here believing there was no other option, back into the same situation I’d run from so many years before.” When she finally raised her eyes, they were red with tears. “I was selfish, couldn’t see past my own pain, and I will live with those consequences every day of my life.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath. “What happened when Diana found out?”

“We had a falling out, to put it mildly.” She snorted. “Called me a turncoat and a traitor, said I was turning against family by taking her baby away. Caused a big enough fight that the neighbors called the police, but I’d already left by then.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At your uncle Jake’s place, just for the time being. I’m moving into an apartment in Bay St. Louis the day after tomorrow. Found out today my application was approved for the place. Oh, and speaking of paperwork…” She reached around and pulled something from her back pocket, then handed it to me. “These came for you while you were away. They were what I managed to save from your grandmother, at least. She destroyed the rest of your letters.”