Page 24 of Kings Don't Break

I park my bike and stride for my front door without slowing down. “I’ve told you before about showing up here unannounced.”

“What else was I supposed to do? You won’t pick up my calls. You don’t answer my texts.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint.”

“Blake, please!”

She chases after me as I walk up the steps to my trailer. Her foot catches on the bottom stair and makes her lose her balance. Shrieking out in alarm, she tips forward with flailing arms. My reflexes are fast enough that I stop mid-step and catch her.

It’s not hard when she weighs a hundred soaking wet. Not that that’s surprising—Mom’s diet has always consisted of cigarettes and more cigarettes. She even reeks of them.

Turns out, me and Bill aren’t the only ones with vices.

I set her back on her feet. “You could’ve face planted. Then what? You’d blame that on me too?”

“Blake, will you just… can you hang on?”

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“We’re not getting any younger. You’re all we’ve got. And you won’t even come see us.”

My face hardens into a scowl. “You know why.”

“I know your father misses you. I know that if you… if you tried a little bit harder, you’d get along.”

“I can’t fix things. I’ve tried. It’s no use.”

“You ain’t trying hard enough!” she snaps. The sorrowful lines etched into her face, the tears brimming in her eyes, seemingly disappear in a flash. They’re replaced by the irritation that makes her sneer, showing off the rot in her teeth. “Your father and I gave you all we had to give, and this is what you do? This is how you repay us? You ruined his life!”

Tension shoots through me, making my body stiff. A reaction from the guilt that’s already present at any given moment. Guilt that cuts the breath in my lungs short and reminds me what a piece of shit I am.

On top of all my other shortcomings. Things like letting Korine go the way I did and spending years wrecking my life.

“I can’t change any of it,” I say hoarsely. “What else do you want from me?”

“Visit your father. It’s the least you can do, Blake Montgomery Cash.”

I don’t answer her with anything else but a rigid, reluctant nod.

“Good. Family dinner. You know where and when.”

Mom gets the last word. She casts me a shaming look, then turns and goes. I remain where I am, feeling like I’m stuck between a fucking rock and a hard place—a feeling I’ve had every moment around my family for the last few years.

Mom drives off in a cloud of dust. The station wagon bobs along the uneven terrain of the trailer park ’til she’s turning out of the lot and gone entirely.

I husk out a rough breath and slide both hands through my hair.

Day eighteen hundred and nine…

6

KORINE

“Helping Hands, Healing Hearts. Thank you for reaching out. Your story is of utmost importance to us,” comes the gentle voice on the other end. “May I start with your name and zip code?”

I hold my breath to keep from answering. Fingers clenched tight around my phone, it’s all I can do to sit silent and not burst into tears.

“Hello?” asks the advocate. “Helping Hands, Healing Hearts. Are you there?”