Unlucky

Bakery

[Elliot POV]

"You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your money, when you're sittin' at the table–"

"--Jesus, I just can't take that song anymore."

Margot said as she reached over and turned the radio off with a click of a button, my eyebrows raising slowly as I glanced over towards my friend who was gripping the steering wheel like her life was depending on it.

Or perhaps mine.

Who knows but something was definitely up with Margot and I was going to get to the bottom of it, fast.

"What, you don't like Kenny Rogers now? You used to love that song, we'd sing it all the time with…."

With Mom.

I wanted to finish the sentence but I couldn't bring myself to do so, my brain blaming it on the fact that I was heavily sedated and basically drugged up out of my mind but I knew it was much more than just that blatantly obvious fact.

I knew it was because I didn't like talking about what happened to her and what led up to such catastrophic events in my young life.

And sure, I may hate my father nearly as much as he resented me but I didn't always want to think about those facts until he called me up out of the blue, demanding that I join him and his perfect little fucking family for a dinner celebration or for, God forbid, the stupid holiday season that rolls around every damn year.

That's the only time he wanted for all of us to act like a good little family and most of the time, I would do it but only for my half siblings.

They didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of the fight between the two of us and to be honest, neither did Allison. Even though I didn't like her very much, I tolerated her because she wasn't the worst person on the planet.

No, that award went to my father and the assholes who take every last one of those brownies down in the cafeteria before anybody worthwhile has a chance to snag one or two of those delicious squares of chocolate-y fudgy goodness.

"I know….I know, kid."

Margot sighed heavily, her words bringing me back to the present time and out of the world that my thoughts were creating for me and my best friend adjusted her grip on the steering wheel as she answered the question that has been plaguing my mind since we got into the car and she started it up with a tense grasp on the wheel and a lead foot on the gas.

"It's just….This was not how I expected this day to be, you know? Like, I'm just taking you home from the hospital now where we both work but instead of working, you had this kind of accident and now, there's this car that's been following us–"

Her voice cut through the noise in my ears and so, I cut her off with a sharp, worried glance, what did she mean by that?

What car was following us?

"What? What car are you talking about, Margot?"

My words slurred together as my still woozy head attempted to peer around the side of the head rest to subtly glance behind our car to see who was following us, instead of using the actual side mirror or even rearview mirror to see who might be tailing us like the dumbass that I was.

"There's no car…Oh…"

My voice trailed off as I was about to confirm the fact that Margot was probably sleep deprived and she was beginning to imagine things when, out of the corner of the side mirror, I watched as a black heavily tinted car trailer behind us at a pace that may have seemed comfortable enough if the driver hadn't been taking another consecutive right turn after I instructed Margot to turn again to see if this person was going to keep following us.