THE VICKERS

Chapter 21

"There's no way," I said once we were in the car and driving off to an unknown destination.

"That can't be the name she heard, right?" Devin remained silent.

"Devin?" I snapped my fingers to get his attention. I didn't know what was going through his mind. I was afraid to know.

Bick was our father's name. But he was dead. There was an accident, both he and our mother perished in the car flames six years ago. There was a funeral. There's a grave with his name on it "Bick Vicker", right next to our mother's "Paula Vicker".

I remember the small funeral with few family members. I barely knew them. And there were other people I didn't know at all.

But was it him? No, it couldn't be our father. If it was, why would he do this? Why would he hurt his children? I don't understand it. My head was starting to hurt.

"It's not him," Devin said barely above a whisper.

"Devin, she said..."

"I don't give a fuck what that crazy bitch said. Bick Vicker is dead," he shot back. He was driving a bit faster now. 

"He is." I agreed realizing that he said his name instead of our father.

"And I'm going to kill the motherfucker who's pretending to be him."

It scared me when Devin spoke like that. I was afraid because I knew there was a part of him that was capable of doing that. This situation was sending him down a dark path, one that I didn't think I could possibly pul him back from.

We were driving for a few minutes when I realized that we passed the same park for the second time.

It was then that I realized that we weren't actually going anywhere. He was circling the neighbourhood.

"What're you doing?" I asked when I realized that we'd stopped just a few houses down from Mrs Nicholson's home.

"C'mon do you really think, Marcus, a big ass momma's boy hasn't spoken to his mother in a week, especially since those men held a knife to her throat?"

"I don't know maybe?" He possibly wanted to keep her safe. It's the same way Dahlia and Devin would leave me at home when they went out "shopping"; to keep me "safe" and out of trouble.

"Nah, I bet as soon as we left, she called him. She kept looking at her cell phone on the table. She was afraid of us, or maybe just me." He leaned back in the driver's seat, but he still watched the house. 

I didn't pick up on any of that while I was there. I saw a woman who was afraid for her life and for her son's; like she was willing to help us help Marcus.

He touched my shoulder and nodded toward the side view mirror.

Marcus drove up to his the house. I looked at Devin but his focus stayed on Marcus, as he clambered out of his car. He looked a bit rougher than the last time I'd seen him two days ago. His clothes were a bit ragged, and half of his shirt was untucked into his sagging pants.

He went inside for a few minutes. Then he stepped onto the porch and hugged his mother. She delicately rubbed at her son's cheek and he bent down to allow her to kiss his forehead. My chest started to feel heavy when I realised how long it's been since I'd experienced anything like that. I didn't want to go down that train of thought. So I turned to Devin, who clearly had the plan here. 

"What we were going to do now?"

"Now we follow him," he responded as he slowly pulled out of the side of the road.