Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series)
Read Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) Online
Authors: Cate Beauman
Table of Contents
Forever Alexa
Copyright © May 2013 by Cate Beauman. All rights reserved.
Visit Cate at
www.catebeauman.com
Or visit her Facebook page:
www.facebook.com/CateBeauman
First Kindle Edition: May 2013
Editor: Liam Carnahan
Cover and formatting:
Streetlight Graphics
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dedication
To all those who are lost
Acknowledgments
Thank you Liam Carnahan, the BEST editor on the planet, for your excellent work. I don’t know what I would do without you and Invisible Ink Editing.
A huge thank you to Lieutenant John Reese from the Loudon NH Fire Department, Misty Rose, and Deputy Chief Corey MacDonald, Esq. for lending me your expertise.
Chapter 1
February 1995
A
lexa turned up the television, struggling to focus on the cartoon she loved instead of the whiskey splashing about in Mom’s half-empty bottle of Johnny Walker. Her sister sat next to her on the lumpy cot they shared, clinging to her side like she’d done since they were told to get in the backseat of the car a week ago.
Abby giggled as Tommy, Chucky, Phil, and Lil found themselves caught up in another disastrous backyard adventure. Her smile faded when their favorite show went to commercial. “Lex, I’m hungry,” she whispered close to Alexa’s ear.
Alexa glanced at their more-than-half drunk mother, then turned to Abby. “We’ll eat soon,” she murmured, terrified mom would hear and realize she’d stolen twenty-five dollars from her almost empty wallet. She pressed her clammy, trembling fingers to the folded bills in her jean pocket as her own belly growled, despite her nerves. Mom forgot to feed them. She always forgot to feed them when she drank.
Alexa stared out the grimy motel window at the bright yellow arches across the way. Her mouth watered as she thought of ketchup and grilled meat, of soft white bread and salty pickles she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into. They hadn’t had a meal since lunchtime yesterday. Soon, she promised, when mom passed out. It was only a matter of time.
She snuck another peek over her shoulder at the tears trailing down mom’s cheeks and willed her mother to close her eyes. Maybe she would finally be brave enough to pick up the ugly, green phone and call Gran. Gran showed her how to make a collect call, ‘just in case.’ Even at eight, Alexa knew what ‘just in case’ meant—it meant exactly this.
Why couldn’t mom be like she used to? Everything had changed when Alexa was in first grade. Mom and Dad had yelled at each other, and then he went away. They moved out of the big house with the pretty pink room, and mom stopped taking care of them. Now she cried all the time and drank her yucky brown drink that made her talk funny or sleep.
When Alexa was in second grade, a woman came to school to tell her she and Abby would be moving to her Gran’s apartment while mom went to a special hospital. Everything was better after that. Gran smelled nice and cooked good food, even though the bones in her fingers were twisted and her body hurt most of the time. Gran taught her how to play the piano, and she read to her and Abby every night. Alexa didn’t mind that she had to do the laundry or brush Abby’s hair or get all of the groceries when the special van came to take them to the store. Gran sat in a neat scooter and let Abby steer while she drove.
Mom came back sometimes, but she stayed at the hospital a lot—and that was okay. Alexa’s stomach always hurt when she was around, and it made Abby cling to her and Gran. Mom wasn’t beautiful anymore. Her long black hair, just like hers and Abby’s, was no longer shiny and she never brushed it. She didn’t tuck them in at bedtime or take them to the park, either.
When Alexa came home from school on Tuesday, the van was there to take Gran to her doctor’s appointment. Mom waited until Mr. Worthington drove away, then she made her and Abby get in the car she borrowed from the neighbor so they could go get ice cream. But they never went out for ice cream, and they never went home to Gran. She wanted Gran; she missed her so much. After she tucked Abby in at night, Alexa would stare at the phone in the light from the window or turn her face into the pillow and cry. She wanted to go home.
The empty bottle hit the ugly, orange carpet with a thud, and Alexa jumped.
“Lexy Lou, get me another,” mom slurred, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
Abby clutched Alexa’s arm as their mother began to sing.
“It’s okay, Abby.” She turned the TV up louder. “Watch Rugrats.”
“Hey, turn that down! Don’t you know a good song when you hear one?” Mom laughed hysterically until she sobbed.
Abby pulled the blanket over her head, and Alexa rushed to her feet. She grabbed the full bottle of Johnny Walker on the table and brought it to the bed. “Here.” She wanted mom to drink more so she would go to sleep and leave them alone. Eyeing the phone again, she stepped back.
“Where you goin’, Lexy Lou?” Mom yanked her to the mattress and entwined her in a hard hug. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
Alexa slammed her eyes shut and tried not to breathe in her mother’s terrible breath.
Mom clutched her tighter. “I said don’t you love me anymore? Or are you like your dad? You and Abby went to live with your grandmother and left me—just like him.” She sobbed louder. “Don’t you want to be with me?”
Abby’s sniffles came from under the blanket she clutched tight around her on the cot. Alexa wanted to go to her. Abby was only four; she didn’t know what was going on. Sometimes she wasn’t sure either, but she was the big sister. It was her job to take care of Abby. “Yes, I want to be with you.” She squeezed her eyes tighter as she lied. “I like being here with you.”
“Then hug me back.”
Alexa wrapped her arms around her mother, waiting, hoping to be released.
“He left us. He walked right out the door and left us. Why did he
leave
me? Selfish bastard!”
Alexa’s heart thundered, and her lips trembled as she struggled to hold on to her own tears. Why did mom ask her questions she didn’t know how to answer? When would she let her go?
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Her mother finally released her, but took her hand. “I love you, Lexy Lou. I love you my Abby Dabby. I want you to remember that this is all his fault.”
Alexa cringed as mom plastered her cheek with slobbery, stinky kisses.
“All his fault, Lexy.” Mom got to her feet and lost her balance, falling back against the bed. She righted herself, grabbed her full bottle, and staggered to the bathroom, slamming the door.
Alexa stood where she was, shaking, listening to the faucet turn on in the bathtub and her sister’s quiet crying underneath the blanket. She looked at the phone and hurried to the cot. “Abby, come on out from under there.”
“I want Gran.” Abby pulled the blanket off herself. “I want to go home to Gran.”
“We will. We’re going to McDonalds first.” She stared at her sister’s long, tangled hair and watery blue eyes—the exact same color as her own. “You can have a surprise—a happy meal.”
Abby wiped at her tears. “A happy meal? You too? Can you have one too?”
She wanted one. She’d never had a happy meal. Gran couldn’t afford to get them one. They didn’t go to McDonalds or Burger King like the other kids in her class. “I’m too big for happy meals. You’re just a kid, so you can have one. We have to go. It’s getting dark and starting to snow.”
Alexa tied her shoes, then Abby’s. “Coat on, Abby.”
Abby put on the pretty blue parka their neighbor had given her and struggled to zip it. “I can’t do it.”
“I’ll do it.” She bent forward and froze when the water shut off in the bathroom. Ears straining, she listened until mom settled in the tub.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She wanted to get them away from here. “Let’s zip you up. Like this, remember?” She shoved the zipper in place and pulled up.
“Gran tried to show me, but her fingers wouldn’t bend.”
“I’ll teach you. Like Gran is teaching me how to cook.” Alexa had started doing the cooking while Gran watched and told her what to do. Gran’s hands were getting worse. They hardly worked at all now, but that was okay. She could do it. She liked to help Gran and Abby. Gran always called her ‘the little mommy,’ but when she said her joke, her eyes were sad. “Come on.”
Alexa reached for the knob as something crashed to the floor and broke behind the closed door. She wanted to ignore the mess that surely needed to be cleaned up, but it was so quiet. Mom didn’t sing or cry or say bad words the way she had last night when she locked herself in there. The silence left her more uneasy than the sounds of her mother’s misery. “Abby, turn on another show for a minute.”
“But I’m hungry, Lex. You said we were going to eat.” Her eyes watered. “I want Gran. When can we go home?”
“Soon.” She glanced at the phone. Mom was probably sleeping. Maybe she should call now, but what if mom came out? Mom said if she tried to contact Gran, they would never see her again. Licking her lips, finding her courage, Alexa walked to the phone, picked it up, and quickly slammed it back down. The fear was too much. The clutching in her stomach made her feel like she was going to throw up.
“Who are you calling?”
Alexa turned. “Watch TV and stop with all the questions.”
“You don’t have to be so bossy.” Abby made a face and stuck out her tongue before she walked to the cot for the remote.
Alexa reached for the phone again and yanked her hand away. She needed to check on mom first. If she was asleep, she would call, and Gran could send Mr. Worthington and his van to the truck stop they were stuck at and pick them up. They would wait at McDonalds and eat their dinner just in case mom woke up and wanted to take them away again.
Dread filled her and her shoulders hunched as she took small steps to the bathroom door. What if mom started to cry and wanted to hug her? Cringing, she raised her hand and gave a gentle knock.
No answer.
She knocked again. “Mom?”
Nothing.
Although mom remained quiet, she wanted to see her asleep for herself. “Mom?” she whispered as she twisted the knob, afraid she might wake her. Alexa peered in and blinked. She stared at her mother and breathed in the metallic scent that reminded her of the taste of a bloody lip. She took a step toward the crimson-colored water and the brown liquid pooled on the floor where the glass lay in shards.
Alexa’s breath shuddered in and out as she walked closer. Mom’s long hair was so black against the white of her skin and her purple lips. The cheerful sounds of familiar commercials filled the silence of the bathroom. Despite her horror, Alexa couldn’t take her eyes from mom’s slim naked body silhouetted in the deep red. As she stared, she knew it was blood—too much blood. Mom’s chest didn’t move, and her eyes didn’t open.
Heart thundering, Alexa backed up and began to hum the song she’d learned in school about calling nine-one-one. Mom needed her to call nine-one-one. She looked at her mother once more before she closed the door. “Abigail, come here.”
Abby’s attention turned from the television to her.
“Sing with me. Sing about calling nine-one-one.” Although the TV blared, it was too quiet in the horrid room.
“I’m scared, Lex.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you. Sing the 911 song I taught you.”
Abby clutched her arm, and soon her shaky voice joined Alexa’s. Without thinking, without knowing what she did, Alexa picked up the phone, still singing. She watched her own fingers press the numbers. “…you know what to do. Call nine-one-one, and we’ll help you.”
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
The woman’s voice echoed in her ear as she continued to sing, her eyes transfixed to the bathroom door and the horror behind it.
