Read Online If I Should Die: A Kimber S. Dawn MC Novel by Kimber S. Dawn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kimber S. Dawn
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happened when I was under the good care of the State of New York.
“Just some coffee, Grammy. Thanks though.” After pouring straight black coffee up to the rim of my coffee thermos, I screw on the lid, swipe a pancake and wink at her. “Lauryn’ll be here in a minute. I’m running late.” I grab my school bag and toss it over the same shoulder holding my other bag, and wave over my shoulder at her. “Love you, Grammy! See you after work tonight.” Then head on out the front door.
I hold off on lighting my cigarette until I’m around the corner, and once the thick smoke fills my lungs, my nerves ease and I glance back over my shoulder towards the house. I don’t keep it from Grams that I still smoke, but I don’t like doing it in her presence, either. Grammy’s new house isn’t much, by any means. But when she sold hers in Miami, she did so as quickly as she could as soon as she found out where I was. And unfortunately when someone sells a house in that much of a hurry, nine times out of ten, it works out in the buyer’s favor—not the seller’s. So she didn’t get near what she should have for her little bungalow on the beach. And that put us with very little to put down on a house when we started looking.
My poor grammy went from a three bedroom, two bath loft bungalow directly on the beach in a little town outside Miami, to a two bedroom, one bath house in Jamaica, New York.
That’s a lot to give up for a kid like me. A lot. A lot more than anyone else has ever given up.
When I reach the end of Ty’s driveway, I shove my right hand in my pocket and grasp my flip phone before pulling it out. After struggling through the keys and texting ‘I’m here’ I flip it closed and shove it back into my pocket before glancing up and down the street, looking for Lauryn and her black little Volkswagen Bug. When I don’t see any sign of her, I step forward off the sidewalk and closer to Ty’s house, and continue puffing on my smoke between sips of black coffee, waiting on my friends to show up.
From what I could gather about my mom from Grammy, which wasn’t much, Mom’s been struggling much more than she ever let on any time we spoke before all this happened. And all that time I’d spent waiting. Waiting on her, on her life, on her job that always seemed just on the damn horizon. All that bullshit was just glitter and rainbow dust she was blowing up my ass. Right along with the tooth fairy, and fucking Santa Claus. And that bitch-ass egg laying bunny.
Everything she’d told me was a lie. She was nowhere closer to getting her shit together enough for the State of New York to grant her joint— JOINT —custody over Eden, much less getting full custody of me back from the State of Chicago. Where she left me.
It’s funny how that fact never even dawned on me at nine, ten, or hell—fourteen. We were staying in Chicago when all this happened. Briefly, yes. And the original plan, I remember, was that we were still in the process of moving. I just didn’t know where to, really. ‘Cause I didn’t live there yet. But the bottom line is, Mom still moved. She still left. Even though she knew I would be stuck there. Without her.
It’s funny that at nine, it never entered my mind how shitty that was.
I knew, or I had resolved in my interim of time during my stint on the ugly side of New York’s Child Protection Services, that my entire life had been one big fat lie. I’d resolved it, dealt with it, and tucked it away. And while that seemed, at the time, the right thing to do, I’m worried now that things are seemingly beginning to feel normal, that I didn’t spend enough time on those feelings and emotions before tucking them away. And now? Well, now...I’m too happy to fuck with it.
When Ty steps off his front stoop, dressed to the nines as always, he cups his hand around his mouth before hollering, “Holla! Bae, say it. Say I look fine!” He beams before turning to showcase his latest
“Just some coffee, Grammy. Thanks though.” After pouring straight black coffee up to the rim of my coffee thermos, I screw on the lid, swipe a pancake and wink at her. “Lauryn’ll be here in a minute. I’m running late.” I grab my school bag and toss it over the same shoulder holding my other bag, and wave over my shoulder at her. “Love you, Grammy! See you after work tonight.” Then head on out the front door.
I hold off on lighting my cigarette until I’m around the corner, and once the thick smoke fills my lungs, my nerves ease and I glance back over my shoulder towards the house. I don’t keep it from Grams that I still smoke, but I don’t like doing it in her presence, either. Grammy’s new house isn’t much, by any means. But when she sold hers in Miami, she did so as quickly as she could as soon as she found out where I was. And unfortunately when someone sells a house in that much of a hurry, nine times out of ten, it works out in the buyer’s favor—not the seller’s. So she didn’t get near what she should have for her little bungalow on the beach. And that put us with very little to put down on a house when we started looking.
My poor grammy went from a three bedroom, two bath loft bungalow directly on the beach in a little town outside Miami, to a two bedroom, one bath house in Jamaica, New York.
That’s a lot to give up for a kid like me. A lot. A lot more than anyone else has ever given up.
When I reach the end of Ty’s driveway, I shove my right hand in my pocket and grasp my flip phone before pulling it out. After struggling through the keys and texting ‘I’m here’ I flip it closed and shove it back into my pocket before glancing up and down the street, looking for Lauryn and her black little Volkswagen Bug. When I don’t see any sign of her, I step forward off the sidewalk and closer to Ty’s house, and continue puffing on my smoke between sips of black coffee, waiting on my friends to show up.
From what I could gather about my mom from Grammy, which wasn’t much, Mom’s been struggling much more than she ever let on any time we spoke before all this happened. And all that time I’d spent waiting. Waiting on her, on her life, on her job that always seemed just on the damn horizon. All that bullshit was just glitter and rainbow dust she was blowing up my ass. Right along with the tooth fairy, and fucking Santa Claus. And that bitch-ass egg laying bunny.
Everything she’d told me was a lie. She was nowhere closer to getting her shit together enough for the State of New York to grant her joint— JOINT —custody over Eden, much less getting full custody of me back from the State of Chicago. Where she left me.
It’s funny how that fact never even dawned on me at nine, ten, or hell—fourteen. We were staying in Chicago when all this happened. Briefly, yes. And the original plan, I remember, was that we were still in the process of moving. I just didn’t know where to, really. ‘Cause I didn’t live there yet. But the bottom line is, Mom still moved. She still left. Even though she knew I would be stuck there. Without her.
It’s funny that at nine, it never entered my mind how shitty that was.
I knew, or I had resolved in my interim of time during my stint on the ugly side of New York’s Child Protection Services, that my entire life had been one big fat lie. I’d resolved it, dealt with it, and tucked it away. And while that seemed, at the time, the right thing to do, I’m worried now that things are seemingly beginning to feel normal, that I didn’t spend enough time on those feelings and emotions before tucking them away. And now? Well, now...I’m too happy to fuck with it.
When Ty steps off his front stoop, dressed to the nines as always, he cups his hand around his mouth before hollering, “Holla! Bae, say it. Say I look fine!” He beams before turning to showcase his latest
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