Murder Out By Caster Bridge

Chapter eight

The second my mother invited me to have coffee with her, I found myself questioning her intentions. After running away from the apartment two days ago and not showing up or calling, I figured she'd be furious with me which wasn't far from the truth. Her emotions were seething underneath that false calm exterior that she was portraying. I knew immediately that she only wanted to be in public so that an argument wouldn't break out.

After we walked to the coffee shop across the street and walked in, I was immediately and acutely aware of the emotions in the shop. However, there were too many to sort out. I took a few deep cleansing breaths. Out of my peripheral, my mother was giving me a look that made me shiver.

Doing my best to ignore the emotions, my mother and I took a seat in the back near the window and took a seat, and neither of us ordered anything right away. Instead, my mother reached into her purse and pulled out her keys, and slid them across the table.

"What is this?" I asked.

"The keys to the Jeep," she said. "It's now yours."

I looked at her stunned. "Why are you giving me it?" I didn't know what was happening. She loved her Jeep. But she was giving it to me. Why? I had disappointed and angered her because of my stupidity. Why would she give her most valuable vehicle to me?

"Say nothing of it, Weston Brooks," she sneered. "I already planned this for your birthday. And I would have given it to you that morning, but you fled out of the apartment before I could do it."

I wanted to dispute that she had been too busy screaming at my grandmother on the phone and had blankly ignored me. But I held my tongue. We were talking and I didn't want to mess that up now.

"Thank you, Mom."

"Don't thank me," she scorned. "Besides, I have more pressing matters. I'm transferring to a new job. I packed all your belongings that I could and put them in the back of the Jeep. Everything else that I couldn't put in boxes is being sold as well as the apartment."

"You sold the apartment?" I asked, surprised. "But... Does this mean that I have nowhere to go?"

"Don't be so overly dramatic," she said. "You'll be staying with your grandmother right here in Kansas."

"My grandmother is here?" I questioned. "I thought you told me she was in Colorado?"

"No," she said. "I told you that she was visiting a friend of hers in Colorado. This is her hometown."

I was never told that. I thought my mother... No, I could swear that my mother told me specifically that she lived in Colorado when I was eight. So, then, why would she lie to me?

My mother then caught my attention by checking her watch for the seventh time. It was starting to become annoying.

"Do you have somewhere to be, Mom?"

"I do," she said, putting the strap of her purse that was falling back on her shoulder before she grabbed her coffee. "I booked a flight. It leaves in thirty minutes."

So, this was her plan.

"Weston..."

I swiveled my head back and forth to purge my unwanted thoughts. "You don't have to say anything, Mom," I said, trying to keep my cool. "Where are you heading?"

She gripped the strap on her purse as a wave of anger radiated from her and pierced me. "That is none of your business. Now, if you don't mind, I have a cab waiting outside. You take the absolute best care of that car, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Mom." Figured she wouldn't say anything about me.

She huffed. Without a hug, without saying I love you or a single word, she got up and sprinted out of the coffee shop.

Left alone and with a heavy heart, I laid my head in my arms. "Love you, too, Mom," I mumbled. Tears that I had been holding back prickled at the edges of my eyes. I angrily wiped them away on my sleeve. I wouldn't cry because of my mother's indifference. If she wanted to act bitter, then so be it. I'd accept that. But why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like someone was clenching my chest?

"You didn't fall asleep, did you?"

Startled and shocked, I jerked up to see my cousin standing over me. "Carter, what the hell?" I bellowed, placing a hand on my chest, feeling my pounding heartbeat. "You scared me."

"That's a first," he said.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, nearly grimacing when my eyes landed on the dark green apron that wasn't sporting his name tag.

"As of today, I work here, but you didn't answer my question."

"Uh," I stammered before shaking my head. "No, I am fine."

"You don't look fine," he said, taking a seat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," I said, taking a sip of my now cold coffee.

"I know it's none of my business, but from the look of it, that was pretty rough."

"You could say that."

"You know, talking about your problems will help you in the long run."

"So I've heard."

Just then, a flash of ginger caught my attention. I looked to my right to see Hayden. He was sitting with someone I didn't know. It was a girl with blonde hair and turquoise eyes. She had on a white sundress. Was this one of his siblings?

It couldn't be. The emotions swirling around her we're ones associated with attraction. Not to mention, the way she was looking at him with that longingly expression made jealousy claw inside my chest and made my stomach feel a little nauseous.

I couldn't help but watch as she leaned over the table and kissed Hayden. I couldn't see Hayden's expression, but I could feel his emotions from here. All I got though was that same calmness. Did that mean he liked it? Did he hate it?

The girl's eyes briefly met mine and a smirk that was full of smugness played out across her brightly painted lips as she wrapped her arms around Hayden's neck and pulled him even closer as she kissed him deeper.

I tried to look away, but it was like my eyes were permanently superglued to the scene in front of me.

Soon, she pulled away and whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was caused Hayden to chuckle.

My heart clenched.

I missed hearing that.

Somehow I found the strength to pull my eyes away as soon as they got up from the table. The girl was holding his hand as they left the shop.

Just then, a loud honk then caught my attention.

I turned and looked out the window.

The black truck was outside.

Intensely heated fear surged inside my chest so tight that I nearly lost my breath as I jumped to my feet panicked. My knee bang on the edge of the table. I ignored the twinge of pain. The few customers present all raised their heads like they were marionettes and all of their gazes landed on me like I was crazy.

"Not again," I mumbled.

Carter's anxiety and concern flashed in my mind even before he asked, "What is it, cuz?" he asked, standing beside me.

"Please tell me you see the black truck," I whispered.

"What truck?" he asked, looking out the window. "I don't see anything."

The truck revved.

I jerked back, startled. Even though I was scared, I had enough of this truck following me. I didn't know what I was thinking. I just snatched up the Jeep keys that my mother gave me and then dashed out of the shop.

The black truck revved and drove down the road and stopped like it wanted me to follow it.

"Weston!" yelled my cousin as he ran after me and grabbed my arm forcefully as he turned me around so I was facing him. "What are you doing?"

"I don't have time to explain," I said. "Look, tell Melinda I left work early. I have to do something."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain," I said, yanking myself out of his grip, and then unlocked the door to the Jeep and then got in, and started the engine.

What am I doing? I thought as I ignored my cousin's shouts.