Stripping Callum (Last Hangman MC Book 6)(3)

That episode quickly became a daily occurrence. I tried to help her. I tried to get the neighbor to help us and get her to AA meetings, but she didn’t want any of it. I couldn’t get her the help she desperately needed, and I was too young to have her institutionalized. I felt lost, and I was slowly going down a dangerous slope. I would drink some of her alcohol and sneak out of the house when she was passed out. She never noticed anything or so I thought.

A couple of months later, she snapped at me because I was late coming back from a movie with Jason. She didn’t let me speak to try and explain myself. She just yelled at me and slapped me across the cheek. She was a frail woman, alcohol took its toll on her, but the hatred in her voice and in her eyes was enough to make me be afraid of her.

I was in my rebelling period, but I didn’t dare talk back to her. I rushed up the stairs and locked myself in my room and cried. I fell asleep at some point, and when I woke up I remembered her words on my eleventh birthday. ‘If I ever try to hurt you, you have to promise me you’ll take what’s in the safe in your bedroom closet and leave without looking back. Go as far away as you can.”

And that’s what I did.

I looked in my closet and found the safe she mentioned, right at the bottom of it. I entered the code, my birthday backward, and opened it.

Inside I found five thousand dollars, a pocket knife, and a gun. I took everything, packed my bag with the bare necessities, and quietly went downstairs.

I didn’t want to risk waking her up if she was asleep.

It broke my heart to leave her, but it was for my own good. I couldn’t take this anymore. I never wanted this. I wanted my family back, but she was long gone. In hindsight, I think my aunt Lili died the same day my parents’ died. I wish I had noticed earlier she needed help so I could have provided her the help she desperately needed.

I tried not to let myself dwell on the past too much as it was my downfall. Once I began to dwell, my spirits would fall and I’d have anxiety attacks.

I walked to the bus station that was two miles away from home and bought a ticket on the next bus leaving.

Goodbye Seattle, hello Boise.

What the hell am I going to do there?

I was freaking out. I was sixteen, alone without any family or friends, and I had nowhere to go. I was in serious trouble, and I couldn’t tell anybody.

I slept through the trip. Once I got there, I was feeling as lost as I was when I started my journey. I had no idea where I could go. Sure, I had money and could get myself a nice place for a couple of nights, but I didn’t want to spend it all in one go. I had no idea how long I’d be homeless and what would happen to me. I’d be lying if I said traveling around with five thousand dollars wasn’t nerve wrecking. If I could have, I would have exchanged that money for my old life back. All the money in the world can’t fix what’s broken inside of you.

When I arrived in Boise and walked out of the bus station, I made my way to what I assumed was the center of town, but I was wrong. I ended up on the outskirts of the city. At that point, I had walked for hours. I was getting hungry, thirsty, and frustrated with myself that I had gotten lost. Just when I was about to give up and walk in the other direction, I stumbled across a place that looked decent. It was a small hotel that appeared a bit run down, but it would do for at least a night.

I walked inside, and the owners looked at me as if I had grown a second head. I’m sure they knew I wasn’t of age to be traveling on my own, but they said nothing. They kindly offered me their cheapest room at half price because I didn’t have a lot of money. I knew it wasn’t good to lie, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I gave them a bullshit story that my parents’ kicked me out, and that I used the little money that I had to get on the first bus to get as far away from them as I could. They bought my story and offered to let me stay there for a small fee and gave me a job in the diner that was a part of the hotel. I was grateful that I had somewhere to live and somewhere to work for the next couple of weeks until I made enough extra money to go somewhere else. I knew I had the money my aunt left me, but I wanted to save as much of it as I could until I really needed it and had no other choice but to use it.

I hadn’t planned to stay there long enough to get to know the people I was dealing with on a daily basis. I couldn’t risk the chance of them finding out what really happened. I loved my aunt, but I despised her at the same time. I hate drunk people and people drinking in general. It brought back so many bad memories even if it was the first and only time she ever raised her hand to me. I knew I didn’t want to risk the possibility of going through that again and feeling like my aunt—my only family—failed me and purposely hurt me.

I liked that small hotel. My room was quaint. It had a big bed that had seen better days, an old TV, a small table and chair, a small bathroom with a shower/bath combo, and a little balcony that I enjoyed sitting on in the evening after work.

It wasn’t big or a busy hotel. The majority of the clientele were truckers who were coming in every day to get some rest while on their long stretch trips across the country or for some food before getting back on the road.

I enjoyed working in the diner, and it also meant three free meals per day, which I appreciated greatly. It might not have looked much from the outside, but the cook was amazing.

One night in late August, a man and his son checked into the hotel. They were staying over the weekend as it was the son’s eighteenth birthday, and they didn’t want to spend it on the road. I knew I’d never see him after that weekend, so I didn’t mind spending time chatting with him. I usually tend to avoid people if I can. After I finished my shift at the diner, I went to the pool, ready to cool off after a hotter than hell day. He was sitting there on one of the sun loungers. His father was shitfaced and had crashed already. Duncan, the son, and I spent the night on the sun loungers and quickly started making out, which eventually escalated to sex by the pool, with possible onlookers. Major cringe. I don’t know what got into me at that moment, but I didn’t care. I was feeling loved, even though it was just for a few minutes. I was craving that closeness with another person.