Chapter 39

When Billie's mother reached for her neck she felt her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps she was being so observant because Billie had it coming...she should have known that her mother had a stronger, more acute radar around her, and she couldn't blame the woman. Billie had been disappearing frequently and acting suspicious. If she was aware of this in herself than her mother must have been beyond anxious. What was it like, she wondered, to desire complete control and only be regarded with the opposite?

The girl had returned home on her own and spent much of the rest of the day by herself. It was when she went downstairs and into the kitchen that she and her mother collided. Mary now looked at her daughter with a critical eye. She tried hard to notice things, everything, and not take anything for face value. It was saddening but Mary no longer trusted her daughter. She would no longer take her simple word for things and leave them be.

Out of all her children Billie had been the most trustworthy and cautious. She never liked to cause trouble, nor did she ever look at anything with malicious intent. Now, it was that child that Mary knew who had changed. She had become secretive and Mary had her own ideas as to why her daughters behavior had changed, they being things from raging teenage hormones to the influence of a male presence. Whatever the reason may be Mary was not happy.

"What's this?" she asked, reaching to her daughters neck where a chain dangled. Billie rarely wore jewelry around her neck and the chain, thin and gold, looked somewhat like one Mary herself had stored away. She didn't want to think that the girl had taken it but curiously she reached out. The chain felt heavy, weighed down with something, and the girls face went pale. What Mary drew out of the collar of Billie's dress caused a hard look to cross her face.

Mary witnessed the ring revealed, a huge hunk of glittering stone. She felt as though she had been slapped in the face. "Where did you get this?" she demanded, looking heatedly up at Billie, noting her wide and almost frightened eyes.

"I...I found it."

Billie's voice was frail and utterly unconvincing. Mary narrowed her eyes, fixing her with a poisonous look. "Don't you lie to me," she whispered, seething. "Where did you get it?"

Billie did not reply, instead she reached out and took hold of the chain, snatching it away from her mothers grasp. She was worried that the more the woman held it the sooner she would grab it away from Billie forever. She couldn't bear to loose it. Stepping away from her their eyes were still locked together.

"I know what you're doing," her mother said with a kind of repulsion she had scarcely heard before. "And don't you think I don't! You better get your act together, because I won't have any more of this."

There was nothing specific about Mary's threats, but both women knew there was some kind of understanding happening. Mary was more convinced now, to the point where she needed no other proof, that some boy had wedged his way into her daughters life and the relationship was becoming toxic. Billie was indeed frightened about how much her mother knew, or would come to find on her own. She retreated back upstairs, anxious for the coming night.

- - -

That night was Billie's last in her home. A bag had been packed during the late hours, Billie making sure her sister, with whom she shared a room, and the rest of the house were fast asleep as she gathered things together. She remembered John's words- not too much. She had to pack lightly.

Her bag was filled mostly with clothing. The only jewelry she owned of worth was now what John had given her. Around the house there were various items that held sentimental value for her that she didn't wish to leave, but there was no way she could take them. Even few toiletries were packed, Billie knowing she could acquire most anything she needed easily in the future. Her young life had been packed away in one small suitcase. Sadness and trepidation started to lull in her stomach, heavy and sickening, but in such times she tried to remember John's face. His touch. His words. He would take care of her, of this she had no doubt, and more than anything she really would rather be by his side.

This was, she assumed, her first lesson in crime. It was wrong, at least, and Billie did not do improper things on her own. Since John had come into her life she had quickly been racking up a good amount of questionable and inappropriate behaviors. It would be easy, he told her. As the girl waited there in her room, tense and jumpy, she tried to trust those words. If anyone would know how she felt it would be John; he'd been on both sides of such a scenario. In reality, this was what Billie had to look forward to in a life with John- unfamiliar, unsafe situations. Was she really ready?

In a manner that mirrored timeless and classic love stories John stood under the girls window and threw a small pebble toward the glass. It met with a light but audible pang, he waiting. Billie heard the noise in her room, so startled she had the urge to cry out, and glanced quickly toward her sisters bed. There the girl still slept, undisturbed. Billie had waited for what felt like a lifetime. It had been hours. As she lay there, fully dressed under the covers, she had begun to doubt the man would even come. How foolish she had been. She should have known not to trust him...he was a criminal.

When Billie finally heard that tell-tale sound she instantly scolded herself for those thoughts. He had come, just as he'd promised, and she never should have second guessed him. Billie grabbed hold of her suitcase and with her other hand delicately placed a folded note on top of her sheets; those words were all she left with her family. With just one more look to her sister she squeezed through the door and closed it without a sound.

On the way down the stairs Billie gazed at her surroundings with a new perspective. Things she saw everyday now seemed monumental- the uneven floor board before the staircase, the one that creaked when you walked within inches of it; the ornate frame on the wall that had traveled with their family since her infancy; the scratch in the downstairs window that her brothers had almost accidentally shattered. In her mind she tired to accept that she would never see these things again- and that she could live without them.

There was nothing more to do except leave. Billie didn't hesitate at the front door, nervous that if she didn't move right away someone would catch her. She slipped out into the night, stumbling off the front porch, her heart racing. A figure appeared, a shadow of a hat and shoulders and Billie ran toward it. John touched her arm and they jogged though the darkness. He took the suitcase out of her hand and led them farther and father until an outline of a car could be seen under dull moonlight. John opened the back door and touched her back, ushering her into the car first. Another person sat alert and tall behind the wheel and as the door swung shut John tapped them on the shoulder. "Go."

The car reared backward easily, Billie getting her first real look at John and her eyes darting to the driver of the vehicle. The whole while John's arms had been around her, touching her in some way, and there in the backseat she was almost sitting in his lap. He leaned in to her, kissing her cheek several times. Being so used to hiding their relationship it suddenly felt strange to be in another persons presence and act openly affectionate. Billie was distracted, her gaze hanging near the front seat.

"That's Red," John finally told her. The man driving glanced into the rear view mirror and held up his hand in the gesture of a wave. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she noticed he lacked three fingers and could not look elsewhere. Nervously Billie nodded in his direction in return, too overwhelmed to smile and intimidated by his mere presence. "I thought I'd bring someone else, just in case things took a turn."

Red knew where he was going and directed the car expertly through the darkness. Billie assumed this to be a man from John's gang. No one else knew of their plans that night, and still fewer knew of her and John's relationship. If anyone would, Billie understood that it would naturally be a friend; someone he could trust. She was still self-conscious, wondering what this Red thought about herself and the entire predicament. How many of John's friends knew about her, and did any of them approve?

She had yet to speak since being in John's presence. Worried, John tried to get a better look at her, pleased to see that he could still make out the color of her eyes in the darkness. He brushed her cheek and whispered. "You alright?"

There was a brief pause. In response Billie leaned into him completely, wrapping both her arms around him and hiding in his neck. It was there that she tried to hold back the water that threatened to spill from the corner of her eye.