Take a Look At Yourself

Texas was an interesting place, especially Dallas. There were cars fucking everywhere, and it seemed like no one knew how to drive. I thought growing up in California was bad, but these assholes didn’t even use turn signals!

Carmen navigated the highways, freeways, and toll roads with one hand on the steering wheel and the other pointing out all the spots of her youth. At first, I had had a bit of trepidation we she offered to drive the six of us down to her house, but I understood why she had offered.

California had its fair share of bad drivers, but I think this girl would have been able to weave her truck in and out of that traffic just as easily as she did here. Every now and then our music would be interrupted by the cuss words flying out of Carmen’s mouth as someone cut us off or merged without looking.

Every couple of minutes, Syn would text me asking us to slow down because he had lost sight of the red truck as it weaved through traffic. I think he and Jimmy were regretting driving now. Zach and Johnny sat in the back, hanging onto their orange and white bags for dear life.

That was another weird thing about Texas. The second we had crossed the border and found this orange and white building, Carmen had insisted we pull over to get what she called a “water burger” but what I later understood was a restaurant named Whataburger. However, Texans didn’t pronounce it like what a burger… no, no, it was a water burger.

She had insisted that we each order a patty melt meal with our choice of drink. We were hooked from that moment on. As we had entered Dallas this morning, Zach had seen the orange beacon and asked our girl what would make a good breakfast. Quicker than I had ever seen anyone talk, she said, “honey butter chicken biscuit,” but it sounded like one word.

I smiled as I thought about the dripping mess of Texas bun and chicken lathered with a healthy dose of honey. Carmen was trying to fatten us all up and I could only imagine what she meant when she said we would be skipping lunch to ensure we could eat all of our chicken fried steak.

The fact that her thoughts were on food was a good sign to me. It meant she was less concerned with what we were going to do about her father and his business partner, and more concerned about what the plans would be after we were finished. I knew that the boys and I would do whatever necessary to ensure that Carmen was out of that house safely. I just didn’t know how willingly she would go with us.

“Matt, we’re almost there. Text Brian and tell him to exit on 73 and take an immediate right.” Carmen motioned out the window as the exit popped up and we merged onto a feeder road.

Just as soon as we turned, we entered this nice neighborhood. The houses reminded me of the houses my parents lived in in Huntington Beach. They weren’t massive, but they were big enough to indicate someone with money lived there.

“Jesus, is this where you grew up?” Zach took in the buildings around us. None of us grew up poor, but the houses kept getting bigger the further into the neighborhood we drove.

Carmen nodded but her entire demeanor had changed. It was like she was shrinking in on herself the closer we got to what I assumed was her home.

Carefully, I reached over and wrapped my hand around hers. She looked at me briefly and nodded. It was my little sign that she could take my strength. We were here for her. We were going to do what we needed to do in order to make sure that Carmen got out of the situation she was in.

My blood boiled every time I thought about it. It took some kind of monster to rape and torture their own child. But it took an even bigger monster to watch as others took pleasure in her pain. If I ever had a child, I would murder someone just for looking at my baby wrong.

After another row of houses, we came upon one with a grey stone exterior. There was a long driveway leading up to the entrance, and this was the one she took. A huge four-car garage greeted us as she parked the truck and sat in silence, gathering her courage to greet her father and mother.

That was another thing that perplexed me. Carmen’s mother had to know what her father was doing. It took a special type of fucked up to not listen to or trust your child. Her mother was just as much at fault as her father was. And if somehow, her mother didn’t know, that was even more fucked up.

Johnny and Zacky jumped out of the truck and started stretching. We had been in the car for several hours and the boys were just as tired as I was. Carmen still looked at the house, perplexed and hurt playing a war across her pretty features.

“Hey.” I grabbed her hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing it gently. “Stop overthinking. We are right here with you. Nothing is going to happen with me by your side.”

Her blue eyes met mine. “You don’t know that, Matt.” She sighed and pulled her hand away from mine, opening the door to her truck and hopping out.

I had to trust her on this, and I had to trust us. Carmen may have a lot of fear around this situation, but I trusted that the five of us would take care of her. Whatever happened, we would be there for her.

Notes

Hi guys, I don't really know what to say here. I have been dealing with so much in a short period of time, but I am back... to an extent. Of course, grad school is always going to come first, but writing is and was my first love. I want to keep doing it, and I don't want to abandon it when it makes me feel better.

My first semester was great, and my second semester is a lot of fun too. I just have a lot on my plate. Medically, I am better than I've ever been. So, HI LOVES!

Heretic