Page 2 of Ride or Die

“McDonalds?”

“Whatever you want, baby girl,” I huff, heading for the side door.

“I gotta pee, Mommy.”

Five minutes. Three hundred seconds.

Shit.

“Okay. But we gotta be super quick.” I let Billie down and follow her as she scuffs her way to the bathroom.

Tom passes me in the hallway, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, a look of steely determination on his face as he drags the trash bag that’s almost as big as he is behind him, making a beeline for the side door.

“Be careful,” I whisper back at him. “It’s slippery out there.”

“Mommy?”

I continue into the bathroom. “What is it, baby?”

“Where’s Daddy?” Billie asks as she sits on the toilet.

“Daddy’s… gonna meet us at the beach,” I lie, pushing my blonde hair back from my face with trembling hands.

At that moment, I glance at myself in the mirror above the sink, and I’m momentarily caught off guard by my reflection staring back at me.What happened to you?I try to avoid mirrors as much as I can because no matter how used to it I am, it’s never not a shock.

I reach up and gently touch the fading bruise that frames my left eye. It no longer hurts, but it’s still there, yellowing around the edges. The finger-shaped marks dotting my neck are new, red and painful to the touch, making my voice hoarse, my words crack.

The flushing toilet pulls me from my reflection and I spin around, moving aside so Billie can wash her hands. When shegoes to grab her toothbrush from the jar, I stop her, swooping in and collecting her in my arms again.

“Mommy, I have to brush my teeth,” she says, pulling back and looking at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. Years of reminding her to brush her baby teeth or else the tooth fairy won’t visit, coming back to haunt me.

Three minutes. Two hundred and forty seconds.

“We can brush our teeth after we eat some breakfast, honey,” I say on a rushed breath, hurrying back down the hallway.

“But how will I brush my teeth without my toothbrush?”

Smartest damn five-year-old I know, I swear to God.

Ignoring Billie’s question, I grab her coat from the hook by the side door and walk out of the house, finding Tom loading the bags into the back of the car. The sun is starting to make its appearance, illuminating the layer of cloud that covers the sky, birds coming to life through the light of dawn.

“It’s cold,” Billie whines, nestling closer to me.

“I know, baby.” I cover her with her coat.

Tom opens the back door for me, and I help Billie into her booster seat, securing her carefully while he makes his way around the front, climbing up into the passenger side.

I’m breathless by the time I make it behind the wheel, heart slamming hard against my sternum, hands shaking like leaves in an autumn breeze as I slide the key into the ignition. But when I turn it, the damn thing won’t kick over.

“Come on!” I hiss under my breath, turning the key again.

The engine tries, but fails.

I check the time on the dash.

One minute.Sixty seconds.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep, steadying breath.