“Um . . . are you holding? Or do you have anything we could take to Lippy’s?”
Lippy’s is the pawnshop in Amarillo and I know from overhearing him and Dallas that she’s hocked everything from their television set to the bicycle Papa bought Gavin for his twelfth birthday to pay her dealer. But holding? I don’t know much about drugs, but in my heart I know that’s what she’s referring to. Why in the hell would Gavin have drugs?
My eyes are wide when they meet his narrowed ones as he glares at her over his shoulder.
“No. To both. Say another word, Katrina, and I will put your ass out on this road and you can fucking walk home.”
“Does she have anything?” she asks, nodding to me but not actually addressing me directly.
“Do not fucking look at her or talk to her or go anywhere near her. Ever,” he barks in her face.
She makes an irritated sound in the back of her throat. “That’s no way to talk to your mother. Don’t forget, I’m the one who bailed you—”
“One more motherfucking word, I swear on everything holy and unholy, I will remove you from this car and you will walk your ass home.”
I flinch back from the weight of the hatred and venom-laced anger in his voice. My mind can’t reconcile it with his constantly rescuing her.
We ride the rest of the way to his house suffocating in tension and silence. I swallow hard as we pull up to their trailer, a rundown one off the highway that makes where I grew up look like a mansion. I’ve always known where he lived but I’ve never been inside. The gravel complains under the tires as we pull in and I relocate myself to the driver’s seat while he walks his mother to the door.
She’s screaming at him, waving her arms wildly and I can see how thin she’s becoming beneath her oversized white T-shirt and faded black skinny jeans. How this woman gave birth to something as beautiful as the broad, healthy man across from her is beyond my abilities of comprehension.
The scowl on his face turns to surprise when he walks away from her and sees me sitting in the driver’s seat. I meet his stare with defiance through the windshield, daring him to argue. He needs rest so badly he looks like he could fall facedown in the driveway and sleep for days.
Shaking his head, he walks around and slides into the passenger side.
“You know the way?”
I nod and shift the car into reverse. “I put it into the GPS on my phone. Two lefts and a right. We’ll be there in no time.”
My heart aches as if it’s being pulled when we pass the road that leads to Papa’s but I know there’s no time so I don’t say anything. It wasn’t the best idea since this is a covert operation as it is.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to see him,” Gavin says quietly.
It hurts too much to discuss so I change the subject. “You should get in the back and lie down. Get some real rest before tonight.”
“You sure? I can navigate.”
I hold my phone up. “I got it. Promise. At least try to sleep, Gav. Please. For me.”
He acquiesces, and climbs over the seat. I barely even check out his ass as it goes past me.
I lean forward to turn the radio on but stop, because there is something I have to say first or I’m going to scream.
“Gavin?”
“Yeah?” My eyes rise to the rearview mirror and meet his while he packs his duffel beneath his head.
“We are going to talk later about why your mom asked you if you were holding. And you will explain her comment about bailing you out. But more importantly, if I ever see her lay a hand on you again, I will slap her the fuck back. Hard.”
“Dixie—”
“Go to sleep, now. I just had to get that out.”