Merciless Ride Read Free Page A

University because they do have a good nursing program and it was still relatively close to home, so I could get back to her if she needed me. I was young and carefree. I wouldn’t say I felt invincible, although I definitely didn’t think of the consequences of all my actions. They are the very same actions that have me now living in an old trailer with a son I’m raising on my own.  
    Tears fill my eyes as I think back on the dreams I once had. Dreams I once chased with fervor and passion are now a fading memory in what’s become of my life.  
    A knock at my door startles me out of my musings. There is no peep hole to check to see who is here. No, my tiny, white aluminum sided trailer has a set of three concrete steps leading up to the door that, if I yank hard enough, even locked, will pop open.  
    The inside of my house is no prettier than the outside. My kitchen has two windows, but one is filled with the window unit air conditioner to cool the small space. The avocado green gas stove and refrigerator are doing nothing to add to the ambiance. I have no dishwasher other than my own two hands, and my counter top has only enough space for the drying rack, a microwave, and a toaster.  
    The front door opens into my living room that only has enough room for a single couch; no loveseat, no chair, and no table even. Nope, I have a thrift store bought couch that faces two windows and a small television that sits on an old, short book shelf with three shelves.  
    I never have visitors, except for the time I let Rex come over when my mom was keeping Axel. Looking around, I am embarrassed to show anyone my meager belongings. I don’t have pictures on the walls because no frame ever seems to look right against the old, warped wooden-looking paneling. Axel is still young, so I don’t put pictures in frames on the book shelf. It’s functional for storing his toys.  
    Down the narrow hallway is Axel’s room that is so small it doesn’t fit more than his twin size bed. Between his room and mine that is at the end of the house is a small bathroom that happens to be nothing more than a tub, sink, and toilet. I don’t have a washer and dryer; I take my laundry to Mom’s house weekly. I have what I need to get by. My home is home to me, but it’s bare and far too small for others to visit.  
    Sighing, I pull myself together, pushing back my embarrassment as I open the door. Never in my life did I expect him to be on the other side. No, I figured it would be Rex or Doll stopping by, not Shooter.  
    The door is one that opens outward, not inward like homes of today; therefore, Shooter must step down to the bottom step to avoid the door.  
    Why is he here?  
     
     
     
     
     
     
    She is standing in the doorway, staring at me with a perplexed expression. Giving her a minute, I remain on her bottom front step, waiting for her to greet me or move to welcome me in. Rather than open the door farther like one would normally do, Tessie steps out onto her top step while holding the door knob in her hand.  
    Taking her silent cue, I back away until she can come down the narrow three steps and close the door behind her. She watches me intently and obviously doesn’t know what to say.  
    “Hey, baby,” I greet to end our awkward standoff.  
    “Um… Hi, Shooter,” she replies, while looking down at her perfectly red painted toe nails.  
    “I came to drop off my car for you.”  
    “What?” The shock of my statement shows clearly in her features. Her brown eyes open wide, staring at me as if she is unsure if I am real.  
    Oh, sweetheart, I’m real, all right.  
    “Shooter, I can’t take your car.”  
    “Baby, you need a car, and I have one that I don’t drive daily. I’m here to leave it with you until I get your Honda fixed.” It is the God’s honest truth. I can’t, in good conscience, leave her with nothing to get back and forth in, and the Dodge Challenger is not even two years old with less than six