North Oak 1- Born to Run Read online

  Before Alex could act, the beating was over. Katrina curled up on the floor, puddled in tears. DeGelder stormed off with a final roar.

  Katrina wasn't the first or the last, however. Alex tried to lay low and not invoke DeGelder's wrath. All of the girls did. But little things always set the woman off. The final straw had been the night DeGelder had tried to beat Ashley.

  The girls were finishing up scrubbing hardwood floors by hand with DeGelder weaving between them, hands behind her back. Alex caught glances of her siblings stiffening as the woman passed. They worked in silence.

  Alex wasn't sure what triggered it, but the next thing she knew, DeGelder had grabbed Ashley's head by the back of her hair. She snarled something to her. Something about not being good enough. Alex gritted her teeth, keeping one eye trained. A hot poke of fire twisted her stomach.

  Ashley said something back to DeGelder and the woman straightened with that awful look on her face Alex had seen the night Katrina had been beaten. It was like watching the mercury rise in the thermometer outside during summer.

  DeGelder grabbed a heavy door wedge and swung back. Her arm came racing toward Ashley. Ashley crossed her arms over her head, but Alex threw her out of the way, diving in front of DeGelder. "Don't you touch her!"

  She grabbed DeGelder's arm and wrestled with her, but the woman broke free. Alex barreled into her, pushing her back. DeGelder swung and pummeled Alex before knocking her to the ground. The door wedge came racing toward Alex's skull.

  Alex had woken in her Haven bed some time later, head splitting. She winced. Slowly she turned her head and found Ashley lying beside her. The bed was barely wide enough for both of them. Dusky near-evening light floated in from the window above them. Alex smiled gingerly. Her voice cracked. "Hey."

  Ashley pushed a stray hair back from Alex's face, her own expression troubled. "Why did you do that? Why take the beating for me?" she asked softly.

  Alex gazed into her eyes. "You know why."

  "DeGelder said I got lucky. Next time I'll really get it. She said next time she won't miss."

  "I won't let that happen. I'll always protect you."

  They were quiet until the last of the dusky light dimmed. Alex stared at Ashley. She had seen that thinking look on Ashley before. Something brewed in that mind of hers. "What if there isn't a next time, Alex?"

  Alex's brow knit.

  Ashley sat up on one elbow. "Aren't you tired of running away from new fosters all the time? Why keep coming back?"

  "As long as you live, I'll keep coming back. Because you're home. Because you're the only thing that makes sense to me."

  "It doesn't have to be that way, though."

  "What are you saying?"

  "Let's run away together," Ashley whispered.

  Alex chewed her lip with uncertainty. "It's dangerous out there."

  "I know. I've done my share of running too, remember?"

  Alex sighed, wishing it weren't true. Ashley deserved a home with good people to love her. Alex willed it. Hoped for it. She wanted it more for Ashley than she wanted it for herself. But they kept finding their way back to one another.

  "We could do it." Ashley insisted, "We could make it together. All we need is each other, right?"

  Alex nodded slowly. "Yeah." She reached for Ashley's hand. "Home is where your heart is."

  Ashley settled back down on the bed, resting her head over Alex's heart. "You're my home. This heart…" she grew quiet,the same way she did when she listened to the summer wind or her favorite song. Alex wrapped her free arm over her.

  Beats for you.

  ***

  Alex shivered beneath a sheet of silver rain as she stumbled under the beams supporting a resort cabin. She hugged her stomach and shut her eyes, rocking back and forth in the mud.

  Why did I think dumpster diving was a good idea? All that barely-touched food had just been sitting there near the top of that bin right behind Boondocks on the Border, and the soda and cookie had done little for her.

  She hadn't felt this sick since that time she'd eaten a brownie left on the coffee table near the TV at Haven Point. It had tasted fine at first, but she'd soon realized there was something wrong with it. She had shut herself in her room to hide the fact she'd eaten one, afraid she'd get in trouble because those brownies had obviously not been meant for any of the children.

  Alex skipped between squeezing her eyes closed against the sickness and staring into the storm. Every time she shut her eyes, there was Ashley bleeding in her arms.

  "Alex…"

  Alex scrambled for the edge of the cabin's shadow and vomited. She tumbled back with her hands over her face and listened to movement and voices from the floor above. A scratching click click click followed by a whine meant a dog was on the premises. The smell of hot food permeated through the pipes and insulation.

  She rolled over and vomited a second time, staring at the shore of Kentucky Lake between heaves, then crawled as far away as she could from the stink of her puke, finding a drier spot to rest. She shivered violently.

  Could she really keep running and hiding like this? She could think of no one that would help her, not even previous foster parents. She'd run from all of them. And she'd keep running forever.

  This is my life now.

  Tomorrow she'd cross the lake, try to erase her trail, and then… what? A dull pang told her this was all she'd ever been born for. No place for her in this wide world, except to drift. She curled up, keeping her eyes on the water and docks, until she fell into a fitful sleep.

  Alex landed her fist into the woman's throat, wrestling for the gun. A world without Ashley was no world at all.

  She pinned DeGelder's shoulders to the floor beneath her knees, the barrel pointed at the woman's skull. DeGelder gasped for breath. "Do it."

  Thunder boomed, matching the memory of the gunshot.

  Alex woke to a snarling dog. Beads of water dripped off the edges of the cabin and porch, and the sky was still gray with twilight and rain clouds.

  At first she wasn't sure if it was actually a dog. The surrounding area was heavily wooded and the dog was silver and white with a thick coat. She didn't think wolves roamed these parts, but she wasn't ruling it out either.

  He prowled around the edge of the cabin, but seemed too big to get under it. Alex stayed where she was, planting herself against the heels of her hands to be ready to scramble out as soon as the animal gave her enough room to escape. When he was on the far side of the cabin, Alex made a move for the lake.

  The second she stood up straight, her legs crumpled and her head spun with a splitting pain. She watched the trees whirl above her in a smear of green and brown. Almost too weak to get up again, she rolled onto her knees and crawled toward the lake. The dog remained behind, checking out the contents of Alex's stomach from last night.

  Alex felt like she was moving through molasses with the way the world roiled around her. Her hand slipped against wet earth, causing her to smack her chin hard against the ground. The aftertaste of bile and fresh blood against her teeth filled her with adrenaline.

  She staggered to the docks and jumped in the lake. The stink of running, puking, and being rained on was washed away with the shock of ice water.

  She struggled to a nearby shore, and crashed through a line of trees, dry heaving into the stench of mossy, damp earth. She pushed herself up and forced herself onward. Her legs barely obeyed.

  An unnatural prickle of heat and sweat came over her. None of the world seemed right. Why wouldn't it stop spinning?

  Soft pink light peeked over the trees onto a road when Alex collapsed before a black iron gate surrounded by oak trees.

  SIX O'CLOCK SOMEWHERE

  Fifteen-year-old Brooke Merrsal stared at the electric blue numbers on her alarm clock. 3:59 a.m. She sensed the seconds ticking down to the next minute. Her hand shot out the instant the clock turned four.

  This was her favorite time of day. Most of the world still slept, but at North Oak t
here were horses waiting to be ridden. Horses that went really fast. With a grin, she threw back the covers and headed to the kitchen.

  The house she and her grandfather shared wasn't much bigger than an apartment. Green shag carpet stretched corner to corner in the living room, reaching toward faux wood panels on the wall like out-of-place grass in a worn-down stall.

  The linoleum in the kitchen was a pattern that made you motion sick if you looked at it too long. Clearly North Oak's head trainer, Joe Hendricks, was perpetually stuck in the 1970's as far as home decor went. Brooke didn't mind though. Their home was warm and cozy, and she had been born on that hideous yellow couch in the corner.

  She scratched the seat of her sweatpants and poured a cup of coffee from the pot sitting in the coffee maker by the sink. Stooping down, she opened the cabinet by her left knee, grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey, poured some into the cup, then put the bottle away.

  When she rose, her eyes met with some tupperware in the corner of the countertop whose lone inhabitants were cookie crumbs. She noted she should probably return it to the Showmans after school. Right now, Pop needs his coffee so we can get down to the barns.

  Brooke was particularly looking forward to getting on North Oak's Breeders' Cup Distaff nominee, Venus Galaxies. There were only a few weeks left to get ready for the race.

  I wonder if Pop will want her going five furlongs, or six today, Brooke thought as she took the mug down the hall to the den and turned on the only lamp in the room. The brass fixture sat on a table between two armchairs and glowed beneath a cream shade.

  Her grandfather squinted from the armchair to her right. His white whiskers moved with his face in a grimace. Brooke gave him the mug and curled up in the armchair adjacent.

  "Morning, Pop."

  Joe grunted and sipped his coffee. His eyes widened.

  "Just how you like it." Brooke smiled. "Hey, what are you thinking for Venus Galaxies today? Five furlongs? Six, nice and easy?"

  Joe merely grumbled something beneath his breath.

  Brooke reached over to the table between them and took the sports page from the newspaper to browse the racing form. "Air Guitar looks good in the sixth, eh, Pop? Can't believe they're running her this close to the Breeders' Cup, though."

  Joe took another deep slug of his coffee. "That paper's from two days ago."

  She checked the date on the front page. "You've been up for how long and didn't bother to get today's news?"

  Her grandfather set his mug down on the table, stood up, rubbed his hands on his hips, and looked at Brooke smugly. "Still up before you."

  She rolled her eyes. "Some of us need sleep."

  Joe swatted the air on his way out of the den, as if the implication might bite him like a gnat. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

  Brooke leaned forward in her chair. "That might come sooner than you think, old man."

  "Good riddance," he muttered from the hall.

  Brooke crossed to the door and called after him, "You need to take better care of yourself."

  Joe grabbed his flat cap and jacket on a coat rack by the front door. "Funny you say that, seeing you're the one who looks after me."

  "Fine," Brooke huffed, "no more whiskey before six!"

  "It's six o'clock somewhere." Joe chuckled as he shut the door.

  Brooke thumped her forehead against the den's doorway. This is my life.

  ***

  Dr. Hillary Showman, North Oak's head veterinarian, leaned over a tablet perusing The Bloodhorse online. She sipped from her mug of coffee, casually drumming the fingers of her free hand on the tabletop.

  Her husband, Cade, squeezed her shoulder and kissed her cheek as he passed.

  Hillary smiled. "Remember, North and I are headed up to Paducah today to check out a new broodmare. I should be back by lunch."

  Cade nodded and grabbed his coat. "I'll hold down the fort." He opened the front door. "Love you."

  "Love you, too." Hillary drank from her mug again and picked up her cell phone laying beside the tablet. Where was Steven North anyway? Her boss usually wasn't late when he wanted to invest in new blood stock. And he liked her there with him as a second opinion on a horse's health and soundness.

  She checked her inbox, making sure it was today and she hadn't lost track of the date in the chaos of work and home life. Her last message was from him, twelve hours prior.

  New mare. Paducah. Pick you up 6a.

  It was going on to six-thirty.

  Other residents of North Oak had been up for a few hours already, going about their lives, taking care of horses. It wasn't like North to be late like this.

  Hillary rose, taking her mug to the sink and rinsing it out. She carried her phone with her, texting, Everything ok?

  Before she could hit send, someone pounded at the door.

  Brow furrowed, Hillary looked up from her cell, and went to answer. No sooner had she opened the door, than something large— she wasn't sure what, it all happened so fast— was shoved into her arms. She dropped her phone and lost her balance, sinking on to the stairs behind her. Steven North pushed past her to the kitchen table. Shoulders heaving, he collapsed into a chair. Color drained from his skin.

  Hillary leaned against the banister leading upstairs. She stared down into the face of an unconscious girl in her arms, stinking of sweat and vomit. Words wanted to pour from Hillary, but her voice seized.

  North stared at her. "I found her by the front gate. What are we going to do?"

  Hillary's mouth opened and shut, then opened again. "What do you mean we?" A slip of black hair fell from the girl's face, revealing a pale, bruised, sickly pallor. Hillary swallowed. "Who is she? Where are her parents?"

  "Mom?" a young woman's voice came from the top of the stairs.

  Hillary looked over her shoulder to see her nearly-sixteen-year-old daughter, Laura, gazing at her. Hillary motioned her over. "I need your help."

  Laura bounded down the stairs at once. "Who is she?"

  Hillary's eyes bored into North, who looked like he was about to fall apart. She grimaced. "That's what I want to know." She looked back to her daughter. "We need to get her to a bed. She's pretty banged up."

  Hillary and Laura carried the mystery girl upstairs to the guest room and laid her on the bed. North trailed behind them.

  Hillary pressed her hand to the pale girl's forehead. "She's burning up. Laura, get my oils. They're in my bedroom. I want to do everything I can to get this fever down quickly." She straightened as her daughter hurried from the room. A quick glance caught North sagging against the hall wall as though he were ready to collapse. Shadows grimly accentuated his drained features.

  "You look like you've seen a ghost," she murmured.

  North looked up at her slowly, then turned. "I'm going to be late for that appointment."

  "You're going to leave her here?"

  His hands clenched. "This is the best place for her."

  "For how long? Someone's bound to be looking for her. We should call the police."

  North looked over his shoulder. His eyes flashed. "No."

  They stared one another down in heated silence.

  Hillary's voice went hoarse. The hair on her arms stood on end. "What aren't you telling me?"

  Her boss's jaw swayed slightly.

  A chill ran down her spine. "Do you know this girl?" His expression grew steely. Hillary pressed, "Did you have an affair?"

  "Is that what you want me to say? That I had an affair."

  "It would be a start."

  "Well I didn't."

  "Than who is she?"

  "We'll talk about it when I get back," he said dryly.

  "Steven, you can't leave her here."

  "I said I will call you when I get back. Don't let her leave when she wakes up."

  Hillary took a step toward him. "I'm calling the police, unless you tell me right now how you know this girl."

  He remained silent and headed down the stairs. Hillary stood at the top. "Who i
s she?" the woman cried.

  When North slammed the door behind him, Hillary hurried back to the bedside of the girl. She scanned her features, trying to glean what information she could. Eleven. Twelve? Thirteen at most. Hillary pressed her hand to her nose. She reeks. And no color to her.

  Icy sweat formed at the girl's pallid temples. Laura finally returned with a kit of essential oils. Hillary rifled through them. I've brought fevers down with peppermint. Where is it?

  "Laura, get my phone. Dial Dr. Hansen. I want him to see this girl."

  Hillary found the vial, removed the cap, and placed a drop in her palm. Her eyes fixated on the sickly girl, hand hesitating for a moment. Where are your parents? Why are you here? A whisper escaped the woman. "Who are you?"

  ***

  Alex's mind spiraled in nightmare as she remained unconscious in the hazy light of the Showmans's guest room.

  Black clouds choked out the crystalline stars. An ominous roar of thunder rolled across the night causing the walls of Haven Point to hum and tremble.

  Alex laid uncomfortably on an old box spring mattress, staring protectively at the other girls in their own beds. DeGelder had been acting more gruesome than ever. None of the girls went unscathed. And things were only getting worse.

  Between the smell of the oncoming storm and the heavy stench of liquor on the air, Alex was on edge. Her mind wandered as she contemplated how things had gotten so bad so quickly. Why was no one intervening? How could their treatment go unnoticed? And how could DeGelder's behavior go unpunished? It just wasn't right.

  Alex and Ashley, who lay in the bed beside Alex's, had been stashing food and supplies in order to run away from it all. It was the only thing Alex wanted for her birthday tomorrow.

  The squeaking springs of Ashley's bed brought Alex back to reality. Ashley sat up, appearing disoriented. The storm seemed to unsettle her.

  "What's wrong?" Alex asked.

  Ashley looked at her through the darkness. "I'm not really sure. Something's not right."