Crossing The Line - 1. Saying Goodbye

Ricky Thorne leaned back in the desk chair and stared at the sleeping form on the bed just a few feet away, the burning end of his cigarette brightening in the shadows just outside of the nightlight’s glow as he took a slow draw from it. The kid always slept with a nightlight and Ricky knew that even at fourteen, Randy was still scared of the dark. Ricky knew firsthand how much there was to be afraid of after the lights went out but he also knew that his little brother didn’t have to worry about any of that.

Randy was the good one, the innocent one. He’d never go through what Ricky did. Ricky was the bad one, the defiant one, and the one always in trouble. He was the one Dave had chosen to be the scapegoat for everything that could and would go wrong. That was why Ricky had decided to leave tonight. He would put this place far behind him and start over in a new city where no one knew him or his uncle. He’d go where he’d never be found.

Ricky stubbed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray on the desk and stood, walking over to the bed as quietly as possible. He reached down and touched his brother’s blond hair softly before leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “Be good, kid,” he whispered. “Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do.”

He had started toward the bedroom door when he heard the sheets rustle behind him and he froze with one hand on the doorknob, listening for his brother’s breathing.

“Rick?”

So much for a quick and silent escape. Dropping his hand from the doorknob, he turned around to find Randy sitting up in the bed watching him with sleepy, blue eyes. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“You okay?” Randy asked tiredly, using one hand to push his hair back out of his eyes. “Anything wrong?”

Ricky sat on the edge of the bed while his heart pounded hard in his chest. He was almost out of there … but maybe he needed a real goodbye before he left. “I’m fine. Just checking on you.”

“Didja get in a fight with Dave again?” the younger boy asked, his gaze searching Ricky’s face as if he was looking for any new bruises.

Ricky nodded emotionlessly. The bruises he had couldn’t be seen from the outside and he wasn’t about to tell his little brother anything about what had happened. Let him keep his innocence for a while longer. “Yeah, but he’s passed out now.”

Randy slid over and raised his eyebrows while he lifted the corner of the sheet. “Stay in here with me?”

Ricky sighed in resignation before lying down next to his brother and throwing an arm over his waist when Randy rolled onto his side with his back to him. He felt Randy’s still shower damp hair against his face and breathed in the scent of his shampoo. It killed him to have to accept that he wouldn’t see him again after tonight but this was something he had to do. If he stayed here, their uncle would end up killing him. Either that or he would kill Dave and he wasn’t about to spend his life in prison over that prick.

I’ll just lay here with him until he falls back to sleep, Ricky thought as his brother relaxed back against him. Then I gotta get the hell outta here before Dave recovers his senses.

Almost an hour later, Randy’s breathing was soft and even and Ricky knew he could leave without disturbing him again, but it was much harder than he thought it would be to remove his arm from around his brother and leave the room without looking back. Stepping out into the hallway, he pulled the door shut softly and turned away feeling totally empty inside.

Bending down, he grabbed the black knapsack from beside the closed door and straightened back up, settling the strap onto his shoulder with a wince as it pressed on the bruises under his shirt and leather jacket. Just a little longer and he would be free … free of the pain, the humiliation, and most of all … free of his uncle.

Avoiding the squeaky stairs, he quietly made his way down the stairs to the front entry hall and paused outside the living room doorway to listen for any sounds of movement from inside. Relief filled him when all remained silent in the darkened room and he turned his attention to the small table near the front door where Dave always dumped his keys and wallet when he entered the house, a glimmer of malice in his blue eyes when he spotted the familiar objects right where they always were. Ricky may be leaving but he wasn’t going empty handed.

He picked up the wallet and unfolded it, pulling the bill compartment open and rifling through the bills. He’d earned the money over the years and he was taking it. It wasn’t stealing really … it was payment for services rendered even if those services weren’t voluntary. Thumbing through the money, he pulled out the three largest, two twenties and a ten, and stuffed them into the front pocket of his jeans before returning the wallet back to its spot on the table. It wasn’t much but it would have to do.

It was past time for him to be gone from here. No way in hell did he want to be around when Dave came out of his alcoholic stupor and found fifty dollars missing from his wallet and his nephew missing along with it. He could catch a bus away from here within the hour if he could get to the bus station across town in time.

Pulling the front door open as quietly as he could, Ricky stepped out onto the front porch and shut it with a soft click behind him. He hopped off the top of the three wooden steps and hurried toward the street without a backward glance at the house behind him. Looking back would only remind him of what he was leaving behind and he didn’t need that right now. It was hard enough parting from Randy like this but he knew that taking him with him would only bring the cops down on him and get him brought back here.

He took a deep breath of the crisp air as he walked toward the end of their street and slowly relaxed. Randy would understand his leaving once he’d gotten over the initial shock. There had been no other choice and he would see that.

I hope he will see it that way …