Keep Me Safe

By bookywormy1

1.2K 103 143

"I don't care if I have to kill every damn bootlegger in Georgia, I'm going to keep you safe." ... More

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight, Pt. 1
Chapter Eight, Pt. 2
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Five

65 4 2
By bookywormy1

Agnes was foolish to think that she would be able to fall asleep at a normal time. With everything that had happened that day, she would be lucky to fall asleep at all. It was well past midnight now, and she was wide awake.

Since it was summertime, the two windows on the far wall were open. The screen covering them blocked out the bugs, but did not prevent the sweet song of the cicadas from drifting in and filling the room. On any other night, this alone would have put Agnes to sleep in an instant.

But not tonight.

She tossed and turned, contorting her body into every possible position. She tried laying with her feet at the headboard. When that failed, she let the family dog, Argie, onto the bed. That also proved a bust when the terrier decided that he only wanted to play. Her last resort was hanging over the side of the bed and letting her head touch the ground. She abandoned that idea as soon as all the blood in her body filled her head. In the end, she gave up.

The rest of the house was silent. 

Meredith and Ethyl could often be heard through the thin walls arguing. Ethyl and her propensity to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night annoyed Meredith to no end. She spent many nights yelling and barricading the window. Mama and Papa had long since given up trying to interfere. Tonight, however, they were quiet.

The wooden floor creaked wearily under Agnes' bare feet. Her room was small and cramped, but the floor was relatively tidy and she didn't have to worry about tripping over anything in the pitch black. It was a short walk to the door. 

She cautiously stuck her head out into the hallway. Her parents' door was shut and no light was coming from underneath it. There weren't many rules in the Miller household, but Mama and Papa were strict when it came to not getting up and wandering the house in the middle of the night; once you went to bed, you stayed in bed.

Agnes was so focused on watching her step as she went down the staircase that she didn't notice the light coming from the dining room until it was too late. She froze mid-step and instantly sucked in her breath.

The voices were faint, but distinct. Mama, Papa, Floyd, and Lottie were all together in the room talking. Their words were difficult to make out.

Agnes knew it was wrong. She knew she should turn around and head back up to bed before she was caught, but she couldn't help it. Her curiosity got the best of her and she had to eavesdrop.

The last ten steps down the staircase were excruciating. She was terrified that a single creak or moan would give her away. She clung to the banister like it was a life preserver, and her fingers dug into the chipped wood.

She stopped on the last step and pressed her chest against the wall. The dining room was on the other side. She couldn't see them, but she heard everything that was being said.

"This is all my fault. I hate that I'm putting your family in danger because of what I've done," Lottie mumbled. Her voice cracked several times.

"Child, we've gone over this numerous times," Mama soothed. "You walking into to that room was nothing more than bad luck."

"And you shooting those men was nothing more than human instinct," Papa chimed in.

Agnes shoved her fist into her mouth to keep from gasping. Her eyes went wide and she leaned in closer.

Lottie sniveled loudly. "You guys have been too good to me."

"Ma and Pa are good to everyone. That's why I brought you here."

"Any friend of Floyd is a friend of ours. After what he told us about your situation, we just couldn't turn you away."

The room was silent for a minute. The severity of the situation- which was slowly becoming apparent to Agnes- hung in the air like a thick fog.

Then a gentle whimpering sound started and Lottie burst into tears. "I should never have shot them," she cried, keeping her voice low. "I should have gone right to the sheriff and told him what happen. Shooting them did nothing more than put me and y'all in danger."

"We already went over this. You know going to the cops wouldn't have solved anything. Cecil's got way too many connections for him to be put in jail. He and Daniel would've come after you. At least with Daniel dead, you only have to worry about one of them now."

"I can't live with this blood on my hands. How am I supposed to wake up each morning with this on my conscience? There's not going to be any place in heaven for me."

"I'm going to be honest with you," Papa said. "Hell is almost full and the last two spots are reserved for the Blackwell boys. No God-fearing, people-loving woman like you is going down there. I don't even think drunks are going there. Hell is for the people with evil in there hearts, and you ain't one of them."

"Listen to my husband, girl. I've only known you for a day and I can see that you got pureness in that scared little heart of yours. Living with the guilt can be hard, but you just have to put your trust in a higher power. Don't let it consume you."

"I'll try. It's just, I'm not cut out for this. I've never even left South Carolina before. I'm way in over my head and it's scaring me."

Mama sighed. "What you need is some sleep to clear up your head. Everything will seem less scary in the morning."

"Y'all have been so good to me."

"I wish we could be better. We don't have a place for you to sleep tonight."

"She can sleep in my room."

Agnes could hear the playfulness in Floyd's voice. She couldn't see him, but she would bet money that he was wearing that stupid grin of his.

There was a slapping sound, followed by Mama scolding him. "I raised you better than that. Lottie, if you don't mind, sleep on the couch tonight, and tomorrow we'll do some rearranging with the bedrooms. I didn't even think about finding you a good place to sleep."

"The couch is more than enough for me. I can sleep there as long as you want me to."

Agnes' heart began to thump loudly. When Floyd had gone off to college, she moved out of Margaret's and Ethyl's room and into his old one. Now that he was back, he was staying in the guest room. That meant that Lottie would most likely be put up in her room. Agnes would either be forced to room with the two girls or share her room with Lottie. Neither of those sounded particularly appealing, but for different reasons.

"I can just sleep on the couch and she can have the spare room," Floyd suggested. "I wouldn't mind."

"Even I know you have back issues. No, I'm perfectly fine down here."

A few more seconds of silence. 

"I guess we could put you up with Agnes. I'd do it tonight, but she's probably already asleep," Papa mused. 

Agnes groaned internally. Dammit, dammit, dammit. 

"She wouldn't want to share a room with me. Please, just let me stay on the couch. It would be so much easier for everyone."

Agnes was on the verge of sighing in relief, but Mama spoke and quickly crushed her hopes.

"No, no. I won't hear of it. Tomorrow, you'll move into her room and she'll just have to put up with it."

"Hey, Franny, you can go home!"

Agnes blinked, confused. Was Franny in the kitchen with them?

"I'm just finishing up my dusting, and then I'll be on my way."

Her body suddenly filled with horror, Agnes slowly turned her head to look into the living room. Standing no less than fifteen feet away from her and in plain view was a very disapproving Franny. Her hands were on her wide hips and her good eye was filled with the fire of a thousand suns. The feather duster had long been set aside and it appeared as if she had been watching Agnes for a while.

Agnes maintained eye contact, but she was visibly shaking. She limply held a finger to her lips and silently pleaded for Franny to remain silent.

The sound of scraping chairs broke up the staring match. Both women's head jerked towards the dining room, and Franny quickly picked the duster back up.

Agnes began retreating back up the staircase, her trembling hand pressed against the wall for support. Each step was anxiety-filled; a single slip-up could give her position away.

She was an inch away from freedom, on the very last step, when her foot didn't lift high enough and she hit the tender part of her heel on the lip of stair. She was able to stop the gasp before it escaped her mouth, but there was nothing she could do about the thud that echoed through the room.

Cursing silently, she threw herself around the corner where she would be out of sight from the downstairs. She held her breath as the voices drifted up.

"What was that noise?"

"Is one of the kids awake?"

"No, that was me. I stubbed my toe on this cursed sofa trying to dust the mantle."

"Are you okay? Can I drive you home?"

"Yes, I would appreciate that. Abel is always telling me I take too long getting home."

Agnes breathed a sigh of relief. Franny covered for her.

The sound of the opening door and Papa and Franny walking outside provided the cover that she needed. Her heart still beating wildly, Agnes scuttled along the ground. She had never been so glad to be back in her room.

The rickety bed frame creaked under Agnes' slight weight. Sound was no longer a concern, as she was safely tucked away in her room.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at her ceiling through the darkness. Thoughts, wild and frantic, whizzed through her mind at such an alarming speed that she couldn't comprehend them.

Lottie wasn't Floyd's fiance; that, at the very least, was obvious.

From the little Agnes could gather, Lottie had killed a man. She knew neither how or why, but it had been done and Lottie seemed remorseful. If she was willing to talk about it to Mama and Papa, then there was a good chance the killing was accidental or in self-defense. However, there was no way to be certain.

Agnes went cold at the thought of Lottie committing a homicide. Was it really possible for her, the most docile and delicate woman Agnes had ever had the pleasure of meeting, to kill someone in cold blood? If so, what could have possibly driven her to do it?

It was a very long time before she finally went to sleep.

----------

The wonderful picture above of Lottie and Agnes was done by the incredibly sweet and talented @kathrynmarie.art. Check her out on Instagram!

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