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Mine’s not perfect and the Krafts, Officer Kraft in particular, was about to find out just how imperfect we Montgomery’s were.

When he opened the door he’s as white as a ghost. Maybe he saw one during the thirty milliseconds it took him to run down the stairs. The guy looked buff in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, crew-cut and a bit of goatee.

“Whoa! Hold up!” I said when I saw he had his gun drawn and pointed right at me.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed.

He grabbed Ellison from me with more aggression than I’d like him to, held her like a child in his arms like he’d done it a million times before. Probably had, since he’s her dad. I put my hands up and took one step back instinctively.

“Ellie, Ellie,” he said. He slapped her face gently. “Emily!” he screamed and soon Mrs. Kraft appeared.

Officer Kraft’s eyes scanned my house, the hoard of leather and beards, the flashing chrome all over the street probably blocking any traffic that would try to come through.

“Get in here!” He gestured with his gun which was still in his grip under Ellison’s shoulder.

I felt all the air sucked out of the room as he closed the front door behind us. Kraft deposited Ellison on the couch and knelt down beside her.

“Honey, Ellie? Wake up, baby. It’s Daddy.”

Mrs. Kraft handed him the nasal inhaler and he pumped it into each nostril. A few seconds passed before her eyelids began to flutter.

The “baby,” and the “daddy,” made hot acidic jealousy swirl in my gut. I’m ashamed of how I felt, so I looked at the floor. He’s her father, I’m not the hero. She’s not going to wake up in my arms.

“Officer, I think it was the bikes. The noise, I think it startled her,” I offered by way of explanation.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he said. It’s final. There’s no negotiating, he didn’t want to hear excuses. I got it. Precious cargo. So goddamned fucking precious it hurt.

“Patrick, that’s the neighbor’s kid, Calvin I think. They came over earlier,” I heard Mrs. Kraft explain as I crept out the door.

I closed the door silently behind me and walked back across the street, head down, hands jammed back in pockets. The streetlights had come on and a fine drizzle was falling.

The gang had made their way down to the basement to get out of the rain. But my father burst out of the front door carrying a woman piggy-back. She had her legs wrapped around him, a red bandana tied kerchief style around her long brown hair. She laughed as she kicked my dad in the butt, wearing tight-ass jeans and a tiny black leather halter top.

“Monty, you’re a beast!” she yelled playfully. She threw her head back and laughed as he carried her down the front steps and to the side of the house. The asshole didn’t even acknowledge me. He cheated on my mother right in front of all of our fucking faces.

Chapter 6

ELLISON

I woke up with that awful combination of guilt and shame lodged in my throat. I could usually tell when I’d passed out because of the blank spaces in my memory that pieced together a broken story. I heard a motorcycle—motorcycles—got scared and wanted comfort. Then I somehow gravitated toward Calvin, without even realizing what the hell I was doing.

“Nooooo!” I grabbed my pillow and smashed it over my face. Why me? Why him? Why does he have to be my neighbor? I needed new medicine. I’m tired of the breakthroughs.

“Ellie! Pancakes!” my mother hollered up the stairs.

I didn’t want freaking pancakes. Carbs and syrup couldn’t cure how mortified I was. He’d think I was a freak. Worse than that, he’d think I was certifiably crazy, that I deserved to be locked up. Just wait until they told him I already was and it did absolutely nothing to help me.

“Ellison, are you awake?” My mother poked her head in the door. She’s wearing lipstick on her genuinely happy face, making me smile too. It had taken my mom a long time to care about her appearance after Adler died. “I made your favorite. I even made strawberry butter.”

“I just want to die!” I said through my pillow. Then I sat bolt upright and threw my pillow down on the floor like it’s on fire. I was the most insensitive girl in the world, the most ungrateful daughter to have ever walked the earth. “Oh my, holy shit, I swear I didn’t mean that mom! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she told me. Mom stepped into my room and straightened my bed covers. Her eyes were stinging and I hated myself for being so careless.

“Did dad tell you what happened? Because I’m pretty sure I made a huge fool of myself this morning—er, last night in front of the only boy I’ve ever really liked!” I pulled off my nightgown and stepped into some comfy pajama pants.


Tags: Mila Crawford Crime