“Wait here. I see someone my mom knows,” I tell Clara then scramble out of the car and chase after Melinda.
I hurry around the back of the building and find her leaning against the back door, smoking a joint right out in the open.
“Hey, baby.” She grins when she sees me then adjusts her boobs in her neon pink top. “You looking for a good time?”
“Melinda, it’s me, Jax.” When she doesn’t seem to recognize me I add, “Jax Hensley.”
“Jax.” She smiles genuinely this time as she stands up straight. “Holy shit. How the hell have you been?”
“Good.” I hold my breath as she moves in for a hug and only breathe again when she steps away.
“What have you been up to?” She pinches the joint between her fingers. “I heard you moved to North Carolina or some shit.”
“Yeah, I’m going to school. So’s Avery.”
“Good. It’s so good you two got out.” She glances at the street at a group of people I’m fairly certain are dealing drugs. “Not a lot of people do.”
“Yeah, I know.” I scratch at the back of my neck. “Look, have you by chance seen my mom around? I’ve been meaning to talk to her.”
She suddenly grows twitchy, scratching her scabbed arms and biting on her dry lips. “Oh honey, I don’t think so… Is that why you’re here? Are you looking for her?” I nod, and she shakes her head. “Do yourself a favor and go home.”
“I can’t until I find her. The last I heard, she was working for this Marcus guy.”
“Go home, Jax.” She backs toward the group on the corner of the street. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I’m not sure if it’s a threat or not, but I’m annoyed because I’m pretty certain she probably knows where my mother is and isn’t telling me.
By the time I climb back in the car, I’m stewing in irritation. Another dead end. Another person who doesn’t want to tell me anything.
“I’m guessing that didn’t go very well,” Clara says when she catches a glimpse of my face.
I shake my head and rev up the engine. “Nope. This place is driving me crazy.”
“You look like maybe you could use a nap.” Clara collects a napkin from the glove box and cleans the sticky ice cream off her fingers. “You even have dark circles under your eyes.” She balls the napkin up and stuffs it in the cup holder.
“Is that your not so subtle way of telling me I look like shit?” I twist around in the seat to look out the rear window while I back out of the parking space.
“No, that was my unsubtle way of saying maybe we should go back to the motel and get some rest. It’s been a long day.” She checks her messages on her phone, something I’ve noticed she does a lot. Maybe because she worries about her mother.
I tap on the brakes and shift into first gear. “It’s only five o’clock, though. We still have a lot of daylight left.”
“How about this.” She tugs an elastic band out of her hair and runs her finger through the braid. “We go back for like an hour and take a nap? Then we can come back out. The sun will still be up.” She peers up at the crystal blue sky. “The sun stays up freakishly late here.”
“Only in the summer.” The tires skid as I pull out onto the street. “In the winter, it seems dark twenty-four-seven—” My foot slams down on the brakes as a man skitters out into the road. “Holy fucking shit.” I breathe with wide eyes as we miss hitting him by an inch.
The man is dressed in rags, his shoes have holes in the soles, and his overly long beard and hair are matted with dirt and God knows what else.
Instead of hurrying out of the street, he rounds to the driver side of the Jeep and raps on the window. “Hey, can you spare some change? I’m in a real bad place, man, and I’d greatly appreciate it.”
A beat skips by as I slowly realize who the man hidden underneath the beard and baggy clothes is.
“Lester?” My hands stiffen on the wheel at the sight of the man who was one of the main causes for me moving to North Carolina. He was my mother’s husband at the time. He’d tried to beat my mother one night for no reason other than he was trippin’ balls. When I’d stepped in, he’d come at me swinging, and I’d swung back.
“Who’s Lester?” Clara hisses under her breath. “That name sounds familiar.”
“The man I got into the fight with… the one I told you about.”
Her lips form an O. “Maybe we should just go.”
We probably should, but Lester did a lot of messed up shit to me when I was younger and I couldn’t defend myself. Seeing him now, at such a low point in his life, I want to witness his suffering for a little longer. That might make me a really shitty person, but I can’t help how I feel. The man caused me a lot of pain, broken bones, bruises. He had this thing with beating me with a belt too, which not only hurt but was humiliating since I was fifteen years old. He also mentally fucked me up, always telling me what a useless piece of shit I was.
Lester tilts his head to the side as he studies me through the glass. "Jax Hensley?” He lets out a nervous laugh, itching at the backs of his hands. “I thought you moved or some shit.”
“I did,” I reply tightly. “I’m just looking for my mother. Have you seen her?" I hate asking him—hate him—but he might know where she is.