Chapter Twenty-Two

Rio

nine years ago

All we did was move. I was so sick of it. This place was even worse than the last. My mother couldn’t stay anywhere for too long. Rent would come due, and she couldn’t pay it, so we’d have to leave in the middle of the night. Or her current boyfriend would disappear, and we would move because of that. Always the same shit.

The trailer park she had moved us to this time was worse than the last apartment we had left. I honestly hadn’t believed a place could be worse, but it was.

I took the last box of our things from the car and closed the door with more force than necessary. The car was ancient, but it was sturdy. Mom had said it was the car her father had given her when she turned sixteen. I didn’t know the man all that well, but he had chosen a good car for her. I was convinced nothing could stop the thing from running. Mom’s neglect and abuse to the car should have put us on the side of the road a million times. Yet it just kept going.

“Get the box inside and unpack things. I’ll be back later,” Mom said as the door to the trailer slammed behind her when she came outside.

She had put on some of the red lipstick she only wore when she was heading out to a bar. We didn’t have enough money for her to go to a bar.

“You going to find a job?” I asked her hopefully.

She shot me a glare. “Ain’t yer business what I’m doin’. Now, go on in and unpack. I’ll get some groceries tomorrow.” Then, she flashed me a smile to soften her words.

I didn’t say anything more. There was no reason to. She was done talking to me. I watched as she backed up and drove away in the faded blue Ford too fast, considering kids were out playing in front of their trailers. She was a mom, and you’d think she would think about that. Not my mom though.

I started to turn and head inside when long dark-blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail and blowing in the breeze caught my attention. The girl had just turned from the main road, and she began walking down the center path between the trailers. The closer she got, the more I could make out, and she looked to be my age. Possibly younger by a year or two. The jeans she was wearing were too big, and the shirt she had on was too thin for the cool breeze. Her arms were wrapped around her to fight off the chill.

I lifted my gaze back up to her face, and now, she was close enough that I could see her clearly. I set the box down on the step beside me but didn’t take my eyes off her, afraid she’d disappear. The sun made the bright blue of her eyes stand out, even from this distance. Long, dark lashes framed them perfectly. Pink lips, which were full and appeared to be puckered into a frown, were accented by one dark freckle just to the left of her nose. It reminded me of the beauty marks that actresses a long time ago had put on their faces.

Those blue eyes locked with mine, and she stopped walking. Her frown vanished, but she didn’t smile. She appeared unsure. As if she was trying to decide if she should turn and run.

I lifted my hand in a wave.

For a moment, I didn’t think she would respond, but then she returned the wave just barely. Then, she hurried toward the trailer she had stopped beside.

Girls didn’t normally run from me. This was a first.

“Hey!” I called out to get her attention before she was gone.

She stopped but didn’t turn to look at me. I knew she had heard me. I waited to see if she would turn back around. When she didn’t, I started walking in her direction. I didn’t know why I was so damn determined to get her attention. Maybe it was her odd behavior, or I just needed to get a close-up view of the rest of her face.

“I’m Rio. I just moved in two trailers over,” I said when I was close enough to her.

She stiffened when she realized I had walked over and then slowly turned to look at me.

Yeah, I was glad I had forced her to wait. That face was something else even if she did appear terrified of me. When had I become so damn scary-looking? Last I’d checked, my dimple was popular with girls.

She was too perfect. Everything from her nose to her damn feet. Something had to be wrong. When she said nothing, I wondered if she could speak, or maybe she was deaf.

“I’m nice,” I assured her, laughing at my own words.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and I felt an odd sense of accomplishment. I wanted to see her full smile. I tried to think of something funny to say.

“Hello,” she said in a soft voice.

I was going to need her to talk more. That wasn’t enough.

“You live here?” I asked, nodding my head at the trailer that looked to be in even worse condition than ours.

She glanced at the trailer, and I saw a flash of sadness in her eyes before she nodded.

“What grade are you in?” I asked, hoping she was in mine.

There was silence, and I was beginning to think she wasn’t going to respond when a slight frown that looked as if she was concentrating creased her brow. This was an easy question, but she made it appear to be difficult. I started to tease her and say just that in hopes that she would smile again, but I didn’t get a chance before the door to her trailer swung open.

An older girl stepped outside. She wasn’t dressed for the cooler weather either, but for different reasons. This one had a killer body, and she was showing off all of it that she could.

“What-the-fuck-ever!” the girl yelled at whoever was inside, then let the door slam. “Bitch,” she added before looking over at us. “There you are. She’s a fucking psycho. Good luck. I’m leaving.”

The girl I had been talking to went rigid but simply nodded.

The older one shifted her gaze to me and gave me a once-over. “Who are you?” she asked, tossing her long pale-blonde hair over her shoulder, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the leather fringe purse hanging on her arm.

“Rio March,” I replied. “Just moved in a couple trailers down.”

She put the cigarette in her mouth, then lit it up before taking it out and smirking at me. “Lucky you,” she said, then shifted her gaze to the other girl. “Might want to stay out here with Rio until she leaves. She’s got work.”

She only nodded again. It wasn’t just me she didn’t talk to, it seemed.

The older girl shook her head and laughed, then took a pull from the cigarette before looking at me. “She’s not talking, is she?”

For some reason, I felt like admitting to the younger girl’s silence would be betraying a trust. I didn’t even know her, but I just didn’t feel right, doing it.

“Yeah, she is,” I lied.

The older girl raised her eyebrows. “Sure she is,” she replied. “I’m Tory, and this is Bryn. Nice to meet you, Rio,” and with that, Tory turned and headed for the main road.

The name Bryn was unique. I liked it.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“For what?” I asked.

She blushed and ducked her head. “Ly-lying,” she replied.

I had been right. She hadn’t wanted Tory to know she wasn’t talking. I was intrigued.

“Is that your sister?” I asked.

Bryn nodded her head. We were back to silent responses again.

“GET YER SORRY ASS IN THIS TRAILER! Stop being a whore like that sister of yers!”

I watched Bryn jump just before I swung my gaze to the woman standing at the door. She looked nothing like the two girls who lived here with her.

“Yes, ma’a-a-a-m.” Bryn struggled in her response and hurried toward the stairs without another glance in my direction.

When she reached the top step, the woman aggressively grabbed her thin arm.

“Don’t you back-talk me, you lazy little shit!”

“I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-s—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. I ain’t got all damn day to listen to you stutter like a moron,” the woman told her, then slung her into the trailer and let the door slam behind them.

Anger settled in my gut, and my hands fisted at my sides. I wanted to storm up to the door and threaten the woman, but I was barely fourteen. She could call the cops on me. Claim whatever the fuck she wanted. I was a kid.

My mom was rarely right about things in life, but she was right about there being no God. Because if there were a God, then things like this wouldn’t happen. A mom was supposed to love her kids and protect them. Not abuse them.

I had to find a way to help Bryn. Somehow.