CONVICT

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by Callahan, Kelli


  Chapter Five

  Charlie

  I wrap my arms around myself, shivering in the cold car. Winters in Wyoming are brutal, and during February, it’s only worse. I know that in other parts of the country, February is an exciting time because it signals that spring is only a month or so away. Here though, it seems like the snow is falling harder than ever.

  Noah didn't want to take me back to my car. I know he thinks it's stupid. He tried to argue with me, of course, but I really don't think it's that big of a deal. It makes more sense to me that a man came in wanting to rob a store, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That kind of thing happens around the world, every day. The odds of being targeted, on the other hand, seem impossible. I don't know who the man was, and aren't people normally targeted by those they have a connection to? I would think so. If I were going to murder someone, it would be because I hated them and I wanted them to suffer and die; or, because I was a scared thief, not wanting witnesses, which makes the latter all the more likely to me.

  He disagreed, quite vocally, but in the end, Noah knew that I wouldn’t listen. When I set my mind to something, that’s the end of it. The man can call me stubborn if he likes, I like to think I’m a woman who knows her own mind.

  We ride in silence, and I wonder if the silent treatment or cold shoulder is his go-to move when he's mad. It would certainly explain why Lucy just shuts down when she's angry. Then again, I don't think I've heard Noah speak much, so maybe this is just how he is. I've known him for years, but our conversations have always been brief.

  “Thank you for driving me,” I whisper, wanting to disrupt the uncomfortable silence between us.

  “You're welcome,” he mutters, and I can feel his frustration.

  Noah fills the car with his energy and his scent. It's everywhere. I find the smell of the leather and other warm earthy tones intoxicating, and they fill my head. It makes my heart beat faster. The air between us seems thicker, it’s almost tangible, and for a moment I wonder if I reach for him, would I feel a wall? Or would the air feel hot and alive with electricity?

  “I know you don't think this is a good idea,” I say quietly and wait for a response. There is none. “Thank you for helping me,” I say, resigning myself to the uncomfortable silence.

  “At least let me follow you back to your dad's house,” he says, his voice tense, and I wonder if he is that worried for me.

  “No really, you don't have to. You've been through enough. I think you should go to the hospital and get that checked out,” I say gesturing to his shoulder. “You've already done enough for me.”

  “I would do anything for you.” The words hang in the air.

  What did he say? Does he really mean that he would do anything for me? I feel my stomach twist into knots as I look over at him. He's biting his lower lip, and I have the sudden urge to help him with that. Does he know how hot he is?

  “Noah,” I say, as his eyes stay on the road ahead. I wonder if he regrets saying that to me. “Thank you. I'll be okay though. I'll be safe at my dad's, and I'll hang out there until I feel better.”

  Saying nothing, we pull into the parking lot of Denton’s place. He looks around, and I can tell that he's concerned. Sliding out of the car, I hand him his leather jacket.

  “No, keep it,” he says.

  “Are you giving me your jacket?” I frown down at what must be at least three hundred dollars’ worth of leather.

  “I can get it from you tomorrow,” he says with a shrug. “Put it on, your coat is still in the diner, isn’t it?”

  Looking back to the ominous building, I swallow hard, as a wave of panic crosses me, and I feel my knees tremble.

  “Just put it on, Charlie,” he sighs, and I can feel his frustration with me. “Stay warm.” His silver eyes watch me as I slide it back on over my shoulders, flinching at the pressure against my forearm.

  “I'll have it dry cleaned,” I promise, then frown as I glance down at my blood-stained uniform, knowing that it is only saturating the leather more.

  “No worries. It's been through worse.” He nods, watching me climb into my car and start it.

  Everything is going to be okay. He’s overreacting, I just need to get to my dad’s, shower, and call him. Taking a deep breath, I put the car in reverse, and back out.

  He sits in the parking lot, and I watch his car in the rearview mirror as I drive away. The Chevy is idling in the dark, and I feel lonely. Why do I feel lonely? I hardly spend any time with the man, yet, here I am, feeling his absence.

  Pulling into my dad's driveway, I close my eyes and rest my head on the steering wheel. I'll have to call my dad. Pulling out the cell, I groan, it’s dead. Hopefully, the spare key is still under the mat. I climb out of the car and lock it. Walking up the steps and searching for the spare key, the cold wind shoots through my hair and I shiver.

  I finally find it and quickly slide it into the lock. Turning the key, I walk in, and close the door behind me, tossing the key onto the table. The home feels empty as if my very presence here seems to echo off the walls. I stand in the dark for a long moment, resting my hands on my face.

  “Christ, what a night,” I whisper. To think that something so graphic actually happens in my small town. It's mind-boggling for me, and I don't know how to reconcile it.

  Walking over to the kitchen, I plug in my cell phone and pause when I hear a soft thump. What was that? Could it have been a distant sound from the roof, I wonder, looking around, holding my breath. I hear my pulse in my ears and feel it quicken. Turning around to face the living room, my Converse squeak on the kitchen floor. Making my way to the stairs I stand still to listen. There is definitely movement upstairs; a quiet little shuffle of footsteps.

  Are Lucy and Dad back? That doesn’t seem likely, they are supposed to be gone for another week. Part of me wants to call out for them, but the other half is scared of what or who will respond.

  Not wanting to be a coward, I walk quietly up the stairs to investigate the noise. I feel a quick leap of fear in my belly. It's silly, I know. I need to calm down; I'm just on edge from earlier. Noah has me twisted up into knots over the possibility of being hunted.

  I know he's just being overprotective. It's the father in him. “Father”. What a strange word to assign Noah Knight. He doesn't look at me like a man who is the father of my best friend. When he looks at me, I feel as if he wants― hell, I don't know what he wants or thinks when he looks at me. I just know that it sends my heart beating faster, and my palms feel damp. Noah makes me nervous. It’s a good feeling though, and I have to admit to myself that I want to feel it more often. Climbing the stairs higher, and turning down the hall, I walk quietly.

  I hear the shuffling sound again, and I freeze.

  “It's nothing,” I tell myself. My dad has a dog now. Maybe they left the dog. No, it wouldn’t make any sense. After all, why would you leave a dog for two weeks? Perhaps it is my mother. No, that makes even less sense. Why the hell would she be here? My mind fights for a rational explanation, balking at the idea that an intruder could be here too. I have to know though. I can't just run away scared. If there really is someone after me, I want to stand and fight. I don't want to run away for the rest of my life. My dad would fight.

  Tiptoeing across the carpet, I peek through the door and freeze. There, digging through my father's office is the hooded man who attacked me― Raul.

  Raising my hand, I quickly clamp my mouth shut and stifle a scream. I have to get out of here. If he sees me, he'll kill me. Taking a quick step back, I bump into a picture frame, creating a small tapping sound, as it rocks back and forth on the wall.

  The man freezes, and I feel goosebumps prickle along my skin. He stands and turns, slowly facing the door. Oh, God, he’s going to find me. Pressing my hand carefully against the photo frame, I make it sit still, then carefully pull my hand from it. I can't let it move again.

  Letting go, I tiptoe back down the hall and step into the jack-and-jill bathroo
m that my father shares with Lucy. I hear Raul’s footsteps… they’re just outside. He's searching, but I don’t think he knows who or what he’s searching for. If he knew I was here, he would look more aggressively.

  A moment passes. He seems to give up, stomping back off to the bedroom, as I creep out the other door and step toward the stairs. One of these steps creaks, but I can't remember which one. If he hears me, I'm just going to run as hard and as fast as I can to my car, and speed away.

  Damn it, where are my keys? I make my way down the stairs, trying to remember where I threw them. There's movement below in the darkness, a shadow. I clench my jaw and press my body against the stairs. I'm only a couple of steps from the bottom floor. What could it be?

  I stand and wait. I don’t see any more movement. Perhaps there's nothing. I wait a moment longer, my hands shaking in the dark, as the silence below seems louder than the sounds coming from the upstairs office. Maybe it was nothing after all, just a trick of the eye. I'm so scared. Stepping across the carpet. I grab my keys from the table.

  Just then, a large hand clamps down over my mouth. I scream, though it's so muffled, there's barely a peep as the hand pulls me backward against a hard body. We stumble, just before he jerks me up into a standing position.

  His voice low and dangerous in my ear, “Don't move, Charlie. Don't make a sound.”

  My breath comes out in quick pants as the hand remains over my mouth. We stand in silence for a moment, and I hear more movement up the stairs, footsteps coming towards the upper hallway.

  A lean arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back with it. The shadow’s back presses against the dark wall. “Be quiet,” the voice whispers again, more gentle.

  Is it Noah? Did he follow me home? How did he even get in here without me noticing?

  “He's here, Charlie. He's upstairs,” Noah whispers in my ear, and I feel his hot breath against my neck. “Do you still think this is random?” he demands, and I can tell that he is frustrated.

  I shake my head, my body tightening against his, and though it’s a bad time, I feel a little rush. I like the way he feels pressed tightly against me. I want to take advantage of this moment and press myself harder against him.

  Footsteps tread heavier above us, making their way down the stairs, taking them two at a time. In a moment, the man is down on the first floor with us. He's only twenty feet away. My heart races, and I feel the anxiety building within me. Noah tightens the grip around my mouth as if reminding me to stay silent.

  Raul walks across the living room and begins flicking through my father’s notepads and digging through drawers. What is he looking for? We stand, waiting as he continues his search of the house. We have to get out of here. I'm afraid to stand any longer. I can feel my knees trembling, itching to run away. I can’t be here, I have to go somewhere else, anywhere else. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll face the cold winter night. I’ll swim across a frozen lake. All I care about is getting away from the place I call home. How could this place that used to be a sanctuary seem like a cage?

  Raul rounds the corner and disappears from sight for a moment.

  “Follow my lead,” Noah whispers, his hands tight around me. He pulls me away from the wall, and we keep to the shadows. Our feet tread lightly across the soft carpet, and we reach the front door, which is still ajar from him sneaking in, the cold air blowing in around us. I look back to the living room, and at the distant silhouette of a man bent on murder. “I told you you wouldn't be safe,” he accuses in my ear, as we descend the steps, his arm gripping me tightly.

  “I know I'm sorry. I didn't want to believe that he would come after me. I don't understand why he's here or what he wants. Why is this happening?” I whisper scream.

  He is silent for a moment as he leads me across the snowy lawn and down the street.

  “I don't know,” he says. “All I know is we can't stay here any longer. We have to get out of town.”

  Saying nothing else, I follow him down the snowy street, leaving my car in my father's driveway, the front door still open. What will Raul do when he realizes that I was there the entire time? Will he leave and track our footprints in the snow? Will he just sit and wait for my family to come, or for me to return? The idea of my father and Lucy walking in on that horrid creature sends a chill through me, one that bites worse than the cold winter air.

  I want to warn them, but I don’t know how. If I call my father, he will come home immediately and be in danger too. I wish I knew why this was happening, why someone would hate me so much, someone I don’t even remember offending.

  Looking up at the silver-eyed man beside me, I feel my heart break. How will I ever survive?

  Chapter Six

  Noah

  I shove her into the car. God, how could she be so fucking stupid? How the hell could I let her do that? She almost got herself killed twice in one night! Is it a blonde thing like in the movies; is it really that simple? They just think they know it all, and that they won’t be slaughtered in some horror scene. I glower as I race around the car. I'm just glad that I had the sense of mind to park down the road, and not next to her house.

  “Christ, Charlie, can you imagine if I didn't follow you here?” I snarl at her. “Just think for a moment about what would have happened because you didn't listen to me. You think I don't know my own kind?” I continue, throwing my car into gear, blasting the heat, trying to ebb away the February cold. “Really, Charlie!” I snap, my wheels spinning on the icy roads, and I have to force myself to drive more carefully. This will get so much worse if I lose control of the vehicle, and we have to walk to safety. As if anywhere can possibly be safe with that monster on our tail, sniffing her out like a bloodhound. Charlie can’t go anywhere; forget about a weekend with her mother or bunking at Kenton’s. Nowhere is safe for her anymore; that's the kind of man Raul is.

  “I'm sorry,” she whispers, and her voice trembles.

  “I don't want you to be sorry, I want you to be smart,” I say, my words biting.

  I feel a little bad for this harsh tone and my angry words, but seriously, she could have died. Knowing what she endured earlier, it would not have been a slow death.

  I have to think. Where can we go?

  We can't go to my place. He'll look for us there once he sees her car there and realizes she isn't going back tonight. I'm just glad that Lucy is out of town; that's one less person that I need to worry about.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “I'm taking you somewhere safe,” I say, not looking at her. I can't look at her. I'm too angry and she’s already scared enough. “Charlie, I need you to understand how serious this is.”

  “I understand,” she says, her voice quiet.

  Looking over at her, my heart sinks as I see the traumatized look in her eye. Christ, had I thought she was a woman? At this moment she seems little more than a child, and I will need to be more careful with her.

  “He was there,” she whispers. “He was in my house, my father's house. He knows where my father lives.” She exclaims, looking back behind her.

  “Everyone knows where your father lives, Charlie. Any criminal with half a brain knows where the chief of police lives. We just avoid his neighborhood like the plague,” I say, my voice dry.

  She says nothing, just sits there like a frightened little bird.

  “You saved my life twice tonight,” she says, looking over at me, her eyes full of wonder.

  “I'll save your life as many times as I need,” I tell her, wanting her to know that she doesn't have to be afraid of me. She just needs to listen if she wants to survive this.

  Turning my eyes back to the road, I focus on navigating the car. Where can we go? Raul is the kind of man who has eyes all over town. There is no telling who we can trust, simply because so many people can be bought. Even the men on the police force can be swayed if you offer them enough money. I know this from experience. Kenton is the only man truly noble enough to turn down a bribe.

/>   I don’t know where we will go yet. Hotels seem obvious at first, but it will draw attention to us. Imagine a drug lord, the highest-ranking crime boss in the area, pulling into the hotel with the chief of police's daughter? Everyone in town will talk about it.

  I know what we have to do. I have to take her to my cabin in the woods.

  “We’re going to my safe house,” I say, looking over at her. “It’s private, out of the way. No one knows about it; not even Lucy and Abbie. It's about an hour from town, and I think we'll be safe there for a little while.”

  “What do you do at the cabin?” She frowns.

  “I like cabins. Besides, I bought it as a back-up plan. Everyone should have a safe house.” I shrug. “You know what kind of man I am, Charlie. You know the trouble I get into. It would be foolish of me not to have a safety net; somewhere I can go lie low for a little while.”

  “Why didn't you go there before?” she asks.

  “When I first got arrested?” I ask, “I didn't get a chance. Your dad was all over my case, and I couldn’t uproot Lucy.”

  “How long will we be there?” she asks, looking back to the road.

  “As long as we need to ensure you're safe, to figure out what the hell's going on.”

  * * *

  The snow falls thick along the highway, and I wonder when the last time the plows came through was. I shouldn't have brought my car. I should have grabbed a pickup truck from the garage; then maybe we would have an easier time getting there.

  I'll have to call Jake and see if he can have one dropped off along the highway tomorrow or the next day; I'll hike down from the cabin, grab it, then drive back up the mountain to the cabin.

  Jake doesn’t know where the cabin is, even though he’s the one man that I trust more than anything in the world. I know he has my back. However, when you're dealing with a man like Raul, well, let's just say it's best to play carefully. Torture has men screaming all kinds of things to make the pain stop, and I can't risk him finding us. Not until I'm ready to face him.

 

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