Power Play by Kennedy L. Mitchell

Author:Kennedy L. Mitchell [Mitchell, Kennedy L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KLM Books
Published: 2020-01-19T16:00:00+00:00

Thank goodness it's not as cold here as it was in DC. This pleasant fall day at eighty–five degrees allows us to ride with the windows rolled down in the Suburban as we drive to Mom's. The change of clothes helped but not by much; the overpowering stench of stale smoke and body odor still wafts off her in waves.

The leather seat creaks as I lean forward to tap T on the shoulder. “It's your next right.” Through the windshield, I watch the sign for Green Meadows come into view. The G is missing, and Meadows now says dows, but hey, it’s home.

Was home.

T slows to make the turn but slides to a complete stop instead of turning into the run-down trailer park.

“Randi?”

“Yes, T. Here.”

“Here?”

“Here.”

“Randi, this is a—”

“Run-down trailer park. I know this. Believe me, I know exactly what it is. I'm the one who grew up here, after all.”

“Here?”

“I thought we already covered that.”

Trouble chuckles in the seat beside me, making me smile. At least someone gets my humor. Grumbling under his breath, T eases his foot off the brake and turns the SUV into the entrance.

“Okay, it’s the third one on the left.” I crane my neck to see out the window as we pass a turnoff, hoping for a glimpse of my old trailer.

“What's down there?” Trouble asks, leaning forward to look through my window too. “Old boyfriend's house?”

“Um, no.”

“Then what? You were looking for something.”

I lift my hand toward my mouth and nibble on the thumbnail. “Mine.”

“Your what?”

“My trailer,” I whisper, then cut my eyes at him to gauge his reaction.

A deep line creases between his neat brown brows as his eyes flick from me to the window and back again.

Before I can ask what he's thinking, we pull to a stop. A pained groan fills the back of the car. Everyone tenses but doesn’t make a move. We're all probably thinking the same thing—maybe she'll pass back out.

No such luck.

Which shouldn't be a surprise. We are talking about my luck, after all. I thought my shitty luck changed when we won the damn primary, only to be painfully reminded the win locked me into an indebted contract with a dirty politician. Go me. Maybe if I wouldn’t have been so focused on proving myself to my haters I would’ve realized the bear trap I was walking right into.

Another groan with unintelligible mumbled words fills the third row. I pull my knees into my seat and press a cool cheek against the headrest. Glassy, bloodshot eyes blink up but don't focus.

How long will it take for her come down from a meth high? She’s always been an addict at worst, alcoholic at best, but she was a good mom. As good as she could be, I guess. Not great, but it could’ve been worse.

“Mom. You're okay. It's me, Randi. You’re home.”

A wet cackle rattles her chest, and I cringe back an inch. “Randi. I missed you, honey.”

Right, and a Texas summer isn't hot.

“Let's get her inside.” I turn to open the door but pause at Trouble’s eyes focused on me.

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