Page 14 of Tame Me
Before I could focus on that, I sniffed the air like a whacked-out dog, knowing this was being cut short.
I stepped back, pacing and muttering jokes with my demons. “Oh yeah. This is a lovely family reunion. Bob Joe, set it up. Get the duffel. I gotta go. You know what I need now? Some coffee, a chainsaw…just kidding…mostly.”
The fire lit in my ass. The chase…it was back. My prowling kitty cat was back after licking his wounds. I needed to go. As much as I would love to help Randy in this moment, I couldn’t. Now, I had a lead, a symbol, a brand, a yellow brick fucking road.
“You’re going to hell,” they whispered.
“Not without you,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “I’ll meet you there later. Right now, I’ve got to figure out why mommy dearest died a whore.”
CHAPTER SIX
Randall
The rain hitme like knives cutting into my sensitive skin, soaking right through my coat and running down my neck. The thick mud rolled over my boots and tried to steal my balance with every step I took.
No, you don’t. Think a little junkyard will scare me away, Little Chip? I grew up in this shit.
My chest was tight, and every instinct screamed at me because I knew he wasn’t far.
I needed to arrest him. For what he did to me, and the fact that he was a criminal…
And to get him the fuck out of my head.
The junkyard was empty, and the homeless scattered the moment I walked under the bridge. I knew all too well the glint of the badge and the fear it elicited. I wanted to help these people, but that would have to wait for now. The shitty hovel was filled with old tires, broken cars, and something that smelled like rotting meat.
“Oh, that’s nice, what the fuck did you…” My voice trailed off as I stepped into the clearing, where a black tarp lay on the ground, and a collection of flowers rested on the figure covered inside.
The plants were obscuring the face, but my stomach twisted with unease.
Judas? What game are you playing…
I swallowed thickly, walking closer to the black tarp, and I gasped and dropped my flashlight when I got close enough to see the face clearly.
It was…my mother.
She was pale, dead, and soaked, with flowers pressed to her neck despite the storm trying to wash them away like her life.
It was daisies, some type of clover, and a bunch of wild weeds—nothing fancy or ceremonious, but it was placed with care. The floral arrangement screamed my fugitive’s style. The flowers were pressed against my poor mom as if he had wanted her to have some peace, even if it was at the end.
Rain slicked her thick curls to her skull, and her face was not free of abuse. It wasn’t recent, but the bruises and pain were so evident even after her death.
I dropped to my knees, the mud already trying to swallow me with her. My hands hovered over the flowers, as if I could will them to bring her back to life. Relief of seeing her after all this time hit sharp and almost violently in my chest, but the ache of the grief quickly swallowed it. She was dead, and even knowing that fact, seeing it in front of my eyes was different.
“What happened to you, Mom?”
I picked up the flashlight from the soggy ground and shone it on her body. There was a note I’d missed, sitting in her grip, waterlogged and ink smeared, but still intact. I read it aloud, my voice trembling.
I’m sorry, Liebling. Everywhere I go, I seem to leave a wake of bodies, don’t I? Let this be the last…maybe. Anyways. I know this is definitely not how you wanted to reunite with your mother dearest, but I hope now at least she can have a proper burial and you get some needed closure.
P.S. I know you love watching my ass wiggle, but stop following me. K?
P.S.S. Still taste my come in your mouth, Baby?
P.S.S.S? I hope you do because I definitely do ;-)
PSSSS Sorry. Not naughty time with your dead mother and all that.
Pssssssss….S?
