Blind Luck Read online

  Breathing deeply to temper his words, his eyes went to the rear-view mirror. The boy had climbed onto the back seat and buckled the seat belt. He was small for his age, and more than likely needed a booster seat to ride in the large truck.

  “So, tell me kid, you were just going to take off and not let your Mom know where you were? I mean, that school bus is going to come down the road this afternoon, letting all the kids in your neighborhood off, and there will be no you,” he said gently. “Can you imagine how she’s going to feel?”

  The kid shrugged his shoulders although Yield could see the eyes getting a bit misted. He wanted him to speak up and explain his rationale for pulling such a stunt. Therefore, Yield pressed harder.

  “Kid, what is so terrible about your life that you jump in a vehicle with a stranger, not knowing or understanding if I am a bad man or a good one? I could be dangerous and want to hurt you,” Yield said.

  “Anything is better than what we have,” Chad said softly.

  “Explain it so I understand.”

  “You saw the trailer! The kids pick on me all the time about my clothes, shoes, my mom smelling like French fries and grease,” Chad replied.

  “Hey, that’s not fair to her. She’s working hard to make sure you have a roof over your heads,” Yield responded. “What about your Dad?”

  “He’s an asshole,” the boy told him, “and he picks on me, too.”

  “Okay, I hear you, but if the school makes a call to your Mom to see why you aren’t in class, she is going to call the police,” Yield said, thinking she would more than likely tell them Yield had kidnapped her son. That was the last thing he wanted or needed.

  “I didn’t think about that,” Chad said.

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Chad,” he said softly.

  “Do you love your mom?”

  “Yes, I love her!”

  “Then, when you love a person, you think about their feelings before you make decisions,” Yield told him. “Not every choice you make for yourself is going to be perfect, but hurting someone on purpose is not what a good man does.”

  Chad sat in the back seat with his bottom lip trembling, trying to be tough. His eyes met Yield’s in the rear-view mirror and suddenly grew large. The little mouth began to move, but no words came out. Concerned, Yield began to slow down, thinking he should pull over in case the child was having an episode.

  “Don’t slow down, go faster!” Chad yelled. “The police! My Uncle! She’s there alone. I’m not there to protect her! Please go faster!”

  Yield didn’t need to be told twice. He drove a few miles over the speed limit, hitting the exit ramp at high speed. The light was green as he made the turn almost on two wheels and if the kid was scared for his mom, then he needed to get to that trailer and fast.

  The kid had reached a point of hyperventilation when Yield pulled into the trailer park, slowing down enough to not harm anyone to arrive at Millicent’s trailer and see the Sheriff’s car. The boy knew that if the school said he wasn’t there, and his mom reported that he wasn’t home, the next person they would call would be his uncle.

  “Shit,” Chad said. “He’s here. My Uncle is so mean to her. He pulls her hair, and she has to fight him when he tries to get on top of her. Please help my Mom, Mister. Do you have a gun?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, kid? Calm down and be cool. Watch me,” he told Chad. “Act natural.”

  “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, Mike!” Millicent yelled at the imposing Sheriff. He was all sorts of wrong and the epitome of a small-town bully whom the town elected as law enforcement. A man with a misguided sense of right and wrong who applied the law to his benefit.

  “I don’t know why you are trying to act all innocent,” the Sheriff said. “I know you haven’t had a man in years. I’ve made certain of that. No one in this town will come anywhere near you.”

  “You don’t know a damned thing about me, Mike. Please leave,” she said, trying to push her way past him. If she could get out the door to the parking lot, at least there would be witnesses. The longer she stayed in the trailer alone with the man, the less likely her chances would be of staving off his attack. Struggling, she made it to the door, unlocking it just as she saw the truck pull up.

  She nearly cried tears of joy at seeing the vehicle. In her heart, she knew he was going to deliver the watch and keep going. He had no reason to help them. All night, she tossed and turned, fretful when he refused her offer to share the bed that he had no intention of taking them on the road to a new a life. For whatever reason the stranger had come back, she said a prayer of thankfulness and calmed herself down.

  Once more, for good measure, she flung open the door. “Mike, for the last time, I’m asking you to leave.”

  The arousal in his pants was evident as his resolve to have her, Mike’s attention focused on her breasts. The man nearly salivated as he looked at Millicent’s body. He reached for her again, but he looked up to see the large muscle-bound man with the deep scar etched down the side of his face coming towards the trailer. Anger coursed through him. A man. How dare this bitch have a man come to her house. The kid. He was with the man. He watched as the scarred face gatecrasher placed his hand on Chad’s shoulder, guiding him up the steps. Mike’s lips curled into a snarl as the large hand reached for the tattered screen door, opening it wide, pushing the boy inside first.

  “Hey,” he said to Mike as he walked past Millicent to the fridge. Yield operated in the moment as if he lived in the trailer, by opening the fridge and removing the carton of orange juice. A quick twist of his hand, he removed the screw top cap and turned it up to his lips. Smacking loudly, he walked over to the couch and took a seat. The large hand patted his good thigh while he looked at Millicent, who stepped around Mike to take a seat on his lap careful to avoid his injured leg. The boy came and sat beside him as Yield threw his arm over the boy’s shoulder, the carton of orange juice dangling from his fingers. His right hand cupped a handful of Millicent’s ass. “You are one mighty fine woman, Millicent.”

  She blushed from her kneecaps to her the roots of her hair, almost unable to contain the pride she felt at the moment.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the Sheriff asked.

  “Brody,” Yield said with a smile, “Brody Johnson. You came by to check on the boy?”

  “He’s my nephew,” the Sheriff said.

  Yield noticed the bulge in his pants and everything in him wanted to kick the asshole in the hard-on. He asked the Sheriff, “thought you’d try to kill a bit of time before you showed concern for his well-being?”

  “Again, who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Yield said. “Baby, I could sure use some eggs this morning. Do you feel like scrambling us a couple? Last night took a lot out of me. Your man needs some protein this morning.”

  “Sure thing, Brody,” she said, getting to her feet.

  “Whoa, whoa there, my lovely,” Yield said, gripping her fingers. “You know how I like a bit of sugar before I watch you walk across a room.”

  Bending over, pointing her bottom at the Sheriff, she gave Yield a kiss. A gentle one to start, but his hand went to the back of her head, pulling her forward. The tip of his tongue slid into her mouth, tentatively exploring as she sighed loudly into his mouth before he let her go.

  “Mmhmm,” he mumbled. “A mighty fine woman.”

  For good measure and to drive his point home, he slapped her on the ass, which made her turn around and shake her finger at him.

  “Mr. Johnson, I am still unclear on who you are and why you have my nephew out of school,” the Sheriff said.

  “The boy wasn’t feeling well, so we were going to the store to get a few things, then I remembered I forgotten something and came back to get it,” Yield said with a smile. “Turns out the boy was pulling my leg to stay home and hang out with me. You know how kids are about strong male role models.”

  “No, I don’t,
” the Sheriff said. “You living here now?”

  Yield tapped the boy on his shoulder and told him to go to his room. Chad replied with a yes sir and made his way down the hall. A nervous Millicent cracked eggs and started the stove to give the man what he’d asked for. It was her last two eggs, but he knew that since he’d looked in the fridge.

  “Sheriff, if I did live here unless I’m breaking some sort of law, I really can’t see how that’s any business of yours,” Yield said. “Millicent has made her choice, and that choice is me.”

  “I need to see some ID,” the Sheriff responded, trying to reestablish control of the situation.

  Yield sat the orange juice container down, holding up his left hand, opening his jacket with the right. Intentionally showing the Sheriff the inside of his jacket, slowly lowering his left hand into the pocket to remove the wallet. One hand flipped open the leather encasement, pulling out his driver’s license to pass to the Sheriff, who looked at the identification with disgust.

  “Ohio? What are you doing in Missouri?” the Sheriff wanted to know.

  “Doing some work for Oswald Pennington,” Yield said truthfully.

  “The Penningtons? How do you know them?’

  Speaking slowly as if the man was hard of understanding, he repeated, “I am doing some work for Oswald Pennington.”

  The sound of the eggs sizzling in the pan distracted the Sheriff as Yield moved quickly, yanking the license from his hand. He no longer lived in Ohio but had moved to Pennsylvania a few years back. It worked in his favor to still have his mother’s address on the license even though she no longer lived in the state. He’d turned her home into a rental property after she moved to Boca to live with his sister.

  “You planning to be around for a while?” the Sheriff wanted to know as he observed Millicent plating the eggs and set the table for her new man to eat his breakfast. Big Mike wanted to walk over and spit in the eggs just for the hell of it.

  “Fine woman like that and a good boy anxious to learn how to be a good man,” Yield said, smiling at Millicent, “I ain’t in no hurry to leave at all.”

  Fuming, red in the face, the Sheriff focused his wrath on Millicent. “When I tell my brother you have moved some random man in the house with his son, he’s probably going to take you to court and fight for custody of the boy!”

  “That’s doubtful since he doesn’t want nothing to do with his son,” she said. “Besides, when have you ever known your brother to fight for anything?”

  “Don’t you sass me,” the Sheriff said, as he reached for his weapon when Yield got to his feet. Mike’s trigger finger was itchy as he kept his eye on the man with the scar taking off his jacket and leaving it on the couch. Yield moseyed over to the table, patting Millicent on the ass for good measure before taking a seat.

  Yield bowed his head, holding Millicent’s fingers in his hand, saying aloud, ‘Lord for this meal we are grateful.’

  “Baby, that reminds me, I need to take you to get groceries today, and the boy a new coat and hat since the weather is gonna turn real cold in the next few days,” Yield said.

  He tugged on her arm for her to take a seat at the table with him. He sat facing the Sheriff. Millicent sat holding the fork like a weapon, her back to the man as Yield began to eat as if the sheriff wasn’t in the room. Although he wasn’t hungry and his belly still floating from the giant bowl of sugary corn pops he’d shared with the boy, he had to eat the eggs to make a point.

  “Make sure you get that boy to school,” the Sheriff said, angry for being ignored. He stormed out of the house, Yield continued eating his eggs when he heard the sound of the patrol car’s engine start. Rocks kicked up in the gravel drive as the lawman drove off, eager to get back to the office and run Brody Johnson through the database.

  “Oh my gosh!” Millicent said, dropping the fork. Her hands shook as she brought them to her face, touching the flushed cheeks. “He’s going to come back. He’s going to come back. I know he’s going to come back.”

  “Don’t matter none,” Yield said, putting his fork down.

  “I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said with her bottom lip quivering. “I really thought you were gone. I found the money on the table and knew...just knew you’d left us here.”

  “I had to come back, the kid stowed away on the back floor of my truck,” he said. “Lucky for you both that I checked it.”

  “That man!” she said, getting to her feet and pacing. “He wouldn’t let me and his brother alone. I mean, what we had was bad, but Mike only made it worse. Jebbie left us here, lying, saying he was going to St. Louis to get a better job and never came back. I have been fighting off that man for years. This morning...I thought you’d left us. There wasn’t much fight left in me, but I can’t let him win. He wants to own me.”

  “As I said, don’t matter none,” Yield said softly.

  “Why? This is my life. No one will sell me a car because the Sheriff won’t let them because he knows I will leave,” she said. “He has a deputy come to take me to work and one to pick me up and bring us home. Chad has no friends, no one really talks to us, and I hate it here. Please, take us with you. I might not be the best person in the world, but we don’t deserve this.”

  “Okay,” he said, having made up his mind when he saw the boy’s fear.

  “What? You said okay?”

  “I said okay,” Yield said. “Pack enough for two or three days. Tell the neighbors to keep an eye on the place, and you and the boy are heading out for the Christmas holidays with me.”

  “You are serious, aren’t you?” Millicent’s teary eyes widened.

  “Lady, you’d better get moving before I change my mind,” he said, getting to his feet and scraping his plate over the trash. Yield did the same with hers, moving to the sink to wash both dishes and forks as she walked around the floor in circles, yelling for the kid. While Millicent got her and the boy together, Yield took out the trash. Kicking himself several times in his own ass for agreeing to such nonsense and before going inside of the trailer to collect the woman and boy, he changed the license plates on the truck from Ohio plates to Pennsylvania ones, knowing the Sheriff would run his plates through the system.

  He knew the type of man Mike the Sheriff was. By now, he’d alerted all of his deputies to keep an eye on that plate number and to report everything he did. However, the bird brained man would have to get up pretty damned early to catch a slick worm like him.

  A happy Millicent came down the stairs of the the trailer carrying one rolling suitcase for herself and one for the boy.

  “Make sure you take any personal treasures since you won’t be coming back here,” he said in a low voice.

  “Ain’t shit in the house I need other than what’s in these bags,” she said, opening the back door of the truck and helping Chad inside. “Be right back.”

  Over and over he mulled the ideas in his head about how to handle the situation. He knew a guy in Ohio who could get the woman and kid a new identity, but it didn’t change the simple fact he’d shared his real one with the Sheriff. That part was dumb but necessary.

  Along with his driving routes, over the years he’d created a network. In Terre Haute, he would stop to exchange his shop. The black truck he was currently driving would be what the Sheriff would want the cops to check out. Yield planned to swap the black truck for the dark green one then push on into Columbus where he’d grown up. The house he grew up in was now rented to his cousin who knew better than to ask questions, but it would be just his luck an officer came by looking for the woman and kid. The preparation of the plan was everything.

  “Ready,” Millicent said, climbing into the passenger seat. “Boy, am I ready.”

  “Let’s roll,” Yield replied, getting behind the wheel and starting the vehicle.

  “So...Brody, where are we headed?” Millicent said.

  Dammit. Mr. Yield liked the sound of his name coming off her lips. He also loved the feel of her bottom in his hands,
but she deserved a better life than the one he could give her and the kid. He planned to take her to the man who would be able to help her get a fresh start.

  It was just his luck that his plans just wouldn’t work out.

  Chapter Five – On the Road Again

  It was going to be a long-damned day. One of those days that came to an end with the participants being tired at the beginning and exhausted at the finish. The sheer joy and elation on both the woman and child’s faces tugged at his heart a bit, but it didn’t change the facts. That Sheriff was an obsessed asshole who would more than likely create a host of problems for them all, just for taking away the object of his fixation. In a few ways, he felt like a hero when he walked into the trailer, and the absolute relief on her face touched him.

  A stupid facial expression was why he had two additional people in his shop, driving to change out the truck, to get another truck so he could avoid run-ins with the law over her perky-tittied body. A cute ass, but one that was bound to turn his lonely life upside down with her needs. And the boy’s needs, because thus far, based on what he’d seen, the kid really could use a strong male role model in his life. Not that he was signing up to be the man for the job, but the kid needed someone.

  “Hey Mister,” Chad said, “where are we going? Are we going to your house? Do you have a dog? I like dogs. I like cats, too. Do you have a cat? I’m good with animals and fish. I can feed your fish if you have fish. I keep my room really clean, too. Will me and Mom be staying with you?”

  “Jeezuzzzzz,” Yield mumbled.

  Millicent turned around in the passenger seat to face her enthusiastic son. She too felt the excitement and had all the same questions, but she was the adult in this situation. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she’d signed up for or what was ahead of them, but it sure as hell beat what they’d left.

  “Chad, darling,” she said with a forced smile. “Brody has done us a huge favor. It is important for us to be thankful and let the man think. If we get on his nerves, he may decide to leave us on the side of the road in another small town with crazy people.”