Taking Money

Taking Money Ch. 8

Chapter Eight

Carson

The next night, Carson came home to his Dad passed out on the porch. Carson just shook his head, and opened the front door. "Carson?" Dad moaned. Carson grabbed his Father underneath his pits, and dragged him inside.

"Yeah," He muttered, "It's me, Dad."

"I was in a bad accident," Dad started.

"Dad," Carson interrupted, "You say that every night." Carson closed the door behind his Dad, and slowly started dragging him up the stairs. When they were in Carson's Dad's room, Carson pushed him onto the bed. He took the fake bandages on his Dad's fingers, and then took his Dad's shoes off.

Carson turned around, and headed for the door. He hated seeing his Dad like that, but it happened every night. There was no way for Carson to avoid it. "Night Dad," Carson murmured. He turned off the lights, and then closed the door behind him.

As he walked down the stairs, Carson ran a hand through his thick hair. When he got downstairs, he noticed Riley lounging in the kitchen. "Dude, what're you doing here?" Carson asked.

"Hanging," Riley answered, popping a pretzel into his mouth. Carson picked his best friend up by the collar, and dragged him to the door. "Hey, hey, hey," Riley said.

"Today's not a good night for you to be here," Carson responded, opening the door for Riley.

"Please," Riley chuckled, "Like I don't know about your old man? Carson, we're buds. I know what goes on in this house. There's no need to hide it from me."

Carson sighed, and ran a hand through his hair again. "Naw man, you gotta go," Carson replied, and shoved Riley out the door, and then closed in behind him.

If Carson didn't like the sight of his Father drunk, he was sure Riley didn't. Carson also felt weird about people knowing about his Dad. It had been a secret for so long that Carson just couldn't get used to it yet.

Yeah, other people's Dad's drank, but none like Carson's Dad. Carson's Dad drank at every chance he could get- which happened a lot. Moth of their money had been wasted on alcoholic drinks that his Dad could consume.

Once Carson made sure Riley was gone, he sat done on the couch and had some pretzels himself. Carson realized that he was lonely. He was sitting alone on the couch and just kicked his best friend out the door. Then thank God, someone knocked on the door.

Carson quickly got up, fixed his outfit, and then fixed his hair again. He put on his best smile, and opened the door. "Hello," Carson smiled. Then he realized he had never met these people before. "Who are you-" Carson started.

"Carson Morris?" The front guy asked.

"Yeah," Carson started again.

Then the guy in the front slammed something onto Carson's head. His eyes slowly started to drift close, and then he fell to the ground. Before he knew it, Carson was out cold, and no one was there to help.

When Carson woke up, he was in a van with his hand tied behind his back. Then when he tried to move a little, he noticed another rope was around his neck, tied to something so he wouldn't be able to move unless it burned his throat. Carson gasped for air.

He looked around. There were two men in the front and one standing in front of Carson with a gun held up. "Who...are...you...people," Carson gasped.

"Shut up," The person across from him growled, shoving the gun into his chest. "Don't talk," He hissed, "Or I'll shoot."

"You won't shoot," Carson whispered, "Obviously you need me. You wouldn't kill me."