Greaser

22. Back Home

I was just about to pull the box out from under Mary’s bed when I heard footsteps trailing down the hall. By the sound of them, they were approaching fast and I would have no time to get out and down the window before getting spotted. So I resorted to the closet, the same place I hid when her mother came darting into her room the day after I snuck Mary out.

My heart was beating fast when I saw her father’s figure looking around the room, coming to the conclusion that he probably heard me thump through the window. When he started to stare down the closet, that’s when it felt like my heart was going to pop right out of its chest. I wouldn’t know what to do, because despite how much I tell Mary that I would knock him out, I don’t think I could. I’d freeze in my place, because he’s a bigger man than my father was, and I know that just one hit to his jaw would just make him more pissed that someone broke into his daughter’s room and was taking her money. No matter how many times I told myself that I wasn’t even the least bit scared, I was. Well, a little part of me was scared that I was going to die if he saw me, and then I wouldn’t see Mary or Anthony. There would be no way for me to tell them that I was gone, and no way for them get the money that I was retrieving from her bedroom.

I let out a sigh of relief when someone shouted his name from downstairs and he slowly backed away from the closet. By the way the sudden shout startled him, I would bet that he’s a little drunk already, and it wasn’t even two in the afternoon yet. I swiftly opened the closet door and darted towards the window and made sure the coast was clear before risking the chance of me being seen. I can’t risk her father hearing me again, that felt like a near death experience. And I was beginning to notice just how soft I really was. I had been so caught up in my own act, that I forgot that I had real feelings, and real fears. It didn’t make sense to me why her father scared me so much, until I realized just who he was. And why he is someone to be afraid of.

-

After the long, agonizingly boring three hour ride, I was finally back to the motel. My heart rate hasn’t slowed down in the least bit since I recognized Mary’s father, Johnny. Maybe she didn’t know, and maybe she did know. Either way she was getting an earful of it, of my yelling and I could tell that there might even be a few tears shed. But I wouldn’t be the one to cry.

“Mary?” I swung open the door to the motel room, tossing the things I had brought back onto the empty bed. No one was in sight, which brought me to confusion because there was really nowhere to go, to my knowledge. I sighed, shoving my hands into my front pockets before walking down to the front desk, being greeted by the short lady with brunette hair who always smelt like flowers. “Have you seen my brother and that girl?” I questioned, ignoring the fact that she had a wide smile plastered on her lips.

“They went on a trip to the park about two hours ago with my niece Aubrey. Speaking of which, they seem to be heading back.” She pointed out the window of the main building at the three people walking this way. Mary’s arm tossed over Anthony’s shoulders.

“Mary we need to talk!” I shouted, letting the door slam shut behind me. I imagine the lady jumped at the sudden outburst of noise. She watched the two kids run back up the room we were staying in.

“What is it? You didn’t get it did you? Oh god my dad caught you didn’t he?”

I shook my head, darkly laughing at the sound of her calling him dad. “Do you think you’re mom left some information about your ‘dad’ out when she talked about him? Like how they’ve been together since high school, and about how he wasn’t always violent?”

“What do you mean?” her eyebrows pulled together, and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Did your mom tell you that your father has been to jail? That he hasn’t always been around?”

She shrugged, “No. But then again I don’t really remember him being around much when I was younger.”

“Because he wasn’t Mary. Here’s my theory.” I began, “Your mom get pregnant with you in high school, after high school your dad did something terrible to get into jail.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Oh just wait it gets so much better.” I fakely grinned, “He broke out of Jail one night, ran through a few towns, killed my mom when she fought him, then changed his name to something other than Johnny so he wouldn’t be caught.” I growled.

“What the hell are you talking about, my dad never killed anybody.”

“How would you know Mary? You were probably around nine, or eight, the same age as me. You said it yourself that you don’t remember him being around, and maybe you had some slight knowledge to the fact that your father was the one who killed my mom that night, who took her away from me, my brother and my dad. You just don’t want to admit it, do you?”

“Niall, I seriously have no idea what you are talking about!” she started, “please show me a photo of this guy who killed your mom, if you so think that he is my father.” She was getting just as pissed as I was, granted we were both mad for completely different reasons.

“You think I don’t fucking know the face of my mother’s killer, Mary?”

“I’m saying that you were eight, you could easily be getting confused. Now I’m not saying that my father didn’t do it. And I am in no way defending that asshole who I unfortunately call my father. But I am saying that you can’t be mad at me for something I don’t even know anything about, or something that I had no control over what so ever. Again this is where ‘you can keep someone from leaving’ comes into play for you, doesn’t it? Now you can either stop being so pissed at me, or I can go.” I rubbed my forehead, flashes of the night my mother died coming to my mind, mixed with memories over the past three months with Mary.

“I have a reason to be pissed right now, Mary.” I tried to calmly state, but so far that wasn’t going over so well.

“But you’re being pissed at the wrong person here, Niall.” She sighed, looking around the things around us in the parking lot before turning to walk up to the room. I didn’t get it, I should be the one to be storming up to the room right now. She’s been living with the man who took my mother from Tony and I. I plopped down on the curb in front the motel’s main building. Going back to her house, has caused nothing but trouble. I sighed, glancing over at the motel rooms. Propping my head in my hands supported by my elbows that were digging into my knees. I knew that if I kept jumping to conclusions with everything that comes up, Mary and I wouldn’t be a thing much longer.

“I’m trying here.” I muttered to myself. But the fact of who her father is, makes things just a little hard at this point.

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Would have been up earlier but I had to re-read it to find any idiotic mistakes I probably made, haha sorry for any I may have missed! 

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xx -A