Page 7 of Hiding In the Dark (The Righteous 4)
“Yes, now take it.” There was only a moment of hesitation before she took the offering and then moaned as she bit into the chewy little delight.
“Thank you,” she said as she wrapped up the rest to put in her pocket.
“No, you eat that now.” Zumi paused, and he could see the wariness in her eyes. Tonight was only one meal, and there was an entire day to get through tomorrow, and another the day after that. “If your mom is not back with something to eat by morning, we’ll go to that all-you-can-eat buffet down the street.”
Her eyes grew as big as saucers. “The one with the waffles? You only ever take me there for special occasions.”
“Yeah, that one, and I know, but who says we can’t make up our own special occasions?”
“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.” She nibbled on the granola bar again, not missing a single crumb.
“Don’t be stupid, Kid. If I didn’t want to feed you, I wouldn’t feed you. Now be useful and pull over the small table. If you’re going to sit in here, you can at least let me kick your ass at Rummy.”
“Pfft, you wish, you’re terrible.”
* * *
An hour later, he peeked over his cards and smiled at the top of Zumi’s head. Her small back softly rose and fell as she breathed. Setting the cards aside, he went to reach for the extra sleeping bag to wrap around her shoulders when he heard a loud crash, and multiple voices began swearing.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!”
“Fuck off,” came Chelsea’s slurred voice.
Great, just fucking great.
“Zuummii? Where the fuck are you?”
Kes stood and made his way to the tent opening. His patience was too thin for dealing with this shit again tonight.
“Mom?” Zumi stirred as he opened the tent flap and slipped outside. Chelsea was stumbling over the camp area, lifting flaps and earning yells from everyone she was disturbing. Marching toward her, he decided that it was for the best that he’d left his knife in the tent, or he’d be tempted to slit her throat.
“Chelsea, she is over here with me,” Kes called out to stop the rash of home disturbances before someone got pissed off enough to do more than yell.
As the woman looked his way, he took in her disheveled appearance and the smeared makeup that made her look more like a clown than the prostitute she was. With one shoe on and the other in her hand, she stumbled in his direction, her eyes narrowed into slits.
“What was she doing with you in your tent?” she yelled, drawing eyes from all directions like raccoons poking their heads out of trees to watch the drama unfold.
“What exactly are you insinuating?” His voice came out as a low growl, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists into tight fists. Female or not, he would lay her out if the next words out of her mouth were that he was doing something disgusting like taking advantage of Zumi.
“Kes, don’t.” Small hands clasped onto his arm, and he looked down into Zumi’s scared face. “She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean it.”
“I meean its…its…it,” Chelsea argued as she swayed on her one shoed foot. He could picture his hand wrapping around her throat and ending this bullshit right now. He didn’t give a fuck that she was a street walker, but he did care that she treated her kid like crap. A personal trigger that made the blood boil in his veins.
“You know Kes wouldn’t hurt me, Mom. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Zumi switched arms and began herding her mother away. As they turned away from him, he could hear Chelsea already babbling about something else. Zumi looked over her shoulder at him and mouthed that she was sorry.
Annoyed more than ever, Kes stomped back to his tent and pulled the flap shut. Getting back on his cot, he flicked off the lantern and gripped the knife to his chest. He stared at the dark nylon ceiling, listening for any more signs that Chelsea was going to be an issue tonight. Maybe the issue was that he saw too much of himself in Zumi and the way she struggled to please a parent that never put her first. His father wouldn’t know the meaning of putting his son first if it bit him in the ass.
If Chelsea ever put Zumi in danger, he’d end her. He’d bury her alive, six feet under, and Kes wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep. Chelsea needed to watch her back—there were monsters in these streets, and he was one of them.
Ashley reached over and groaned as she smacked at the stupid alarm on her phone. It was still dark. Why had she set her alarm so early? It wasn’t like she had anywhere to be.
Her mind immediately went to yesterday, and she laid her arm over her eyes as she tried to block out the thoughts that kept trying to plague her. Like worms, the thoughts were burrowing holes into her brain, and no matter how many times she told herself to stop thinking about it, the worries only got worse.
“I’m not doing this. I’m not lying here and making myself crazy.” Ashley threw the comforter off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She made her way to the closet to get changed into her workout gear and clipped the doorframe hard with her shoulder.
“Ouch.” She jerked with the sudden impact and almost collided face-first with the door. Reaching out, she gripped the clothing rack to keep herself from becoming more off-balance.
Heart pounding, she slowly straightened.It was nothing.Even as she thought the words, the sting of tears pricked at her eyes. Blinking them away, she made it the rest of the way into the walk-in space and picked out an outfit before heading to the bathroom.
