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Adults are Afraid of Thunder, Too
Part 8

By KitKat

“Well, Mac had a stepfather that was married to her mom, who she was living with in Missouri.  His name was Ralph Hunnicutt and the guy is a fucking lunatic and a sick psychopathic loser with nothing to do but--”

            “Billy!”  Mac exclaimed, aghast but still chuckling a little.  “She gets it.  Just tell the story.  All of it.”  She looked down at her stomach and then back at him.  His face had now taken on a whole new look: fatherly worry.  She had just begun to notice it now.

            “Sorry.”  He apologized to her and then continued with the story.  “Mac was very young when her stepfather began mol--molesting her.  He never had the chance to rape her, just touch her and pray that she get older five times as fast.  Finally, she ran away to Genoa City to find Katherine Chancellor, her grandmother. Her mother divorced the guy we don’t know when.  And the rest is unimportant, I think, for you to know.  But Mac has been in town for a while.  She has gotten to know a lot of people, and those people know even more people.  So if you look at it, Mac knows everyone in some way and in some way everyone knows Mac, even if they have never met her.  So, Ralph’s plan is ultimately to find her.  I don’t know why they are still chasing people.”

            “You got me confused after the story,” Isabelle said. 

            “I’ll tell it from here,” Nick said.  He shook Isabelle’s hand as Billy had.  “I am Nick Newman.  Son of Victor, Wife of Sharon Newman, father of Noah and Cassie Newman.”  Isabella began laughing. 

            “Nice introduction, Nick.”  And she still laughed.  “I-I-I’m sorry.  It’s just that--that no one’s ever done that for me before.” 

            “Yeah.”  He responded.  Isabella wiped her eyes. 

            “It’s nice to meet you.  You can tell me why I was chased!”  Now she was hysterical again. 

            “Okay, Ralph has a bunch of people helping him shake the sillies out of people to get them to tell them where Mackenzie or Billy are.  But no one knows.  I guess they don’t believe it.  So you are on the list.  But somehow, I don’t think they are going thru the people who know Mackenzie the least, like you.  I think it is just a coincidence.  Oh--yeah.  They think you will willingly help Mackenzie and they want you out of the picture because of that.  So, in conclusion--”

            “I am being chased because Ralph--oh my God.”

            “Wants Mac,” Billy chimed in, his eyes focused on the same spot on the floor Mac had picked for herself. 

            “How far is this man going to go?”

            “We don’t know.”  Nick said.  “Shit, guys, we don’t know how far they will go, how desparate they are.”

            “And another thing,” Nikki wondered, her eyes burning into the lightbulb.  “How do we know they don’t have men in other cities?  Mackenzie, someone could be asking your father.  Sharon, I know you don’t want to hear this, but someone could be asking. . . Cassie’s biological father.”

            “What the fuck, that is impossible!”  Nick blasted.  “Mom--”

            “How dare you talk to me that way!”

            “That is absurd!  It is far fetched.”

            “Nick, we know the man is a psychopath.  Think about it.  He doesn’t know anything about us.  If he did--”

            “If they did,” Billy corrected.

            “You are so smart,” Victoria commented sweetly.  Positions were changing rapidly with the flow of conversation.  Now she was standing behind the armchair propping her head up with her left hand. 

            “If THEY did,” Nikki continued, flippantly brushing her gelled hair back, “they wouldn’t be going after people like Isabelle and John Silva.”

            “It’s Isabella.”  The woman corrected, pacing violently in the middle of the room.  “Who is John?”

            “Oh my God this is going to be a long night!”  Victoria screamed. 

            “Shhhh.  Sweetheart, the children are upstairs.”  Victor reminded her.  Victoria’s eyes were sharpened daggers now.  Sharon herself was tranfixed by the hypnotic stare she now gave Victor. 

            “I don’t care,” she seethed.      

             “Could someone get me some water?”  Mac asked, her voice sounding scratchy now. 

            “Sure.”  Victor had officially named himself the water man.  In the course of all this time, he had gone back to the water jug every five to thirty minutes and had drunken the water as if it were fine whiskey. 

            “Thanks,” she whispered, taking the water.  Billy gave her a kiss on her head and got up.

            “You guys have a bathroom?”  From behind Mac, he gave Nick a look.

            “Yeah,” Nick said, standing up to greet Billy.  The two males disappeared into the dark abyss of the kitchen and other rooms.  Nick took him to the right, turned on the light, looked around for anything out of order then turned it back off.  “You don’t really have to go to the bathroom do you?”

            “No.  Listen, I just need you to know something and listen to me carefully.”

            “I’m with you, Billy.  Whatever you say, will do.”

            “Okay, listen, Mac can’t run anymore.  She is just now starting to feel the pains and I myself aren’t doing so hot.  We’ve run about 4 miles, my legs are burning like fire and my arms are only comfortable in one position.”  He sniffed and wiped hair off his eyes.  “Besides that, I cut my hand and busted my balls up against a tree.  But I don’t care about any of that.”

            “I would,” Nick declared, whispering a little louder than Billy.  “You gotta take care of yourself man.”

            “You would do the same in my position,” Billy murmured.  “Look, try to keep her on the couch, and if Ralph and anyone else comes, we gotta create a human shield or something.”

            “They took our knives.”  Nick said.  “Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be alive through this.  But I don’t think that will work.  Sometime those guys will get in the house.”

            “I don’t know.  This place looks pretty--”

            “No.  Any guy could get in here.  It could be hard, but he can do it.  Listen, man, normally I wouldn’t suggest this, but I know that my mother--she used to be addicted to painkillers--”

            “No.  Look, she can’t.”

            “It doesn’t say on the bottle that pregnant women can’t take it.  Besides, whose life is more worth saving: Mac’s or an unborn baby?”

            “I love my child.  I am not killing him.”  Billy had his finger in Nick’s face.”  Nick stared at it with incredulity.  Billy slowly lowered it, sluggish. 

            “I feel for you man but you gotta take a chance.  They are strong perscription painkillers.  They don’t make you feel drowsy or anything.  As long as you don’t overdose.”

            “Mac will never take them.  She never has taken anything worse than Tylenol®.”  Nick immediately knew a solution.  His mom’s problem with painkillers had softened his attitude toward her but had also made him more wary of her habits.  And one of them had been smashing up the medicine in a little bowl and dumping the fine white powder into some vodka or alcohol.  His father had never seen it.  So he thought.  He readily told Billy the idea.

            “But Mac will take apple juice,” he said.  “There is some in the fridge.”

            “You just happen to have apple juice, huh?”  Billy chuckled, and once again pushed his hair back. 

            “Well, we keep well stocked.”  Nick smiled, and patted Billy on the back.  “Follow me.” 

Part 1 | Part 2  | Part 3Part 4Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

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