“You don’t have to do that,” Drake said.
Her eyes scan the menu, mumbling, “Already here.”
“You mad at me?” He sits back in his chair, puffing, “I told you… water’s fine.”
Her shoulders drop, “It’s not you.” Her head sways with a tinge of a smile, “I’m sorry. I don’t mind.”
“I’ll get the next one, Jojo.” He scratches a folded nose, “I promise. We can come next week.”
She bouts grinning with faint nodding, “Don’t mention it. I like this place, but not that much. The menu is starting to taste like tourist food.”
“I appreciate it. You know… it’s really embarrassing to forget your money when you’re a guy.”
She says, “What are friends for? I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. Right?”
“Absolutely,” he said.
◆◆◆
Lucius stands directly behind two men dressed like they’re out at a business meeting. Khakis and polo shirts with thin overcoats, sitting only feet from him. They keep looking over. Not at Drake. At her. An anvil of Drake’s history dawns on him. “No,” Lucius whispered. Drake nods, confirming the nightmare. Lucius watches the men faintly tilt their chins, agreeing to something. A secret conversation between them.
Drake points under the table and Eddie states, “You really think she’s a virgin?”
Lucius’s lip hangs.
“Can’t know for sure. Gonna have to check ourselves,” Mike raises his brow several times with a snickering smile. He sends a text on his phone. Lucius gnashes teeth marks into his fist, sucking air into his lungs with any attempt to remain calm. His ears can’t help but listen as Eddie says, “I think that’s definitely a peach. The boss will be pleased with this girl.”
Mike says, “She’ll bring in a lot of money when sold.” He looks down at the screen, “He wants her.”
Mike and Eddie ascend from their chairs, signaling Drake with a thumbs up as they leave. Lucius places his leg slightly out in front of Mike, allowing an obstacle on their trip away from the river. A heavy foot snags and Mike is tumbling against concrete slab.
Lucius walks off without looking back.
Eddie gazes down, “What just happened? You fell down like an idiot.”
Mike’s ego is busted, and observed by spectators walking nearby. He yanks his jacket, “Shut up. My new shoes got caught on something.”
◆◆◆
Drake takes a bite of steak, “I’m enjoying this like it’s my last meal. How about you?”
“You said that earlier. You must like this place?” She dips a sliver of steak into white gravy, half shrugging her shoulder as she finishes her bite. “I’m glad you like it. I’m really liking the weather. It’s been raining lately and nice to have the sun out again. Feels good today.” She sips tea taking in ambience of an evening wind. “I love when a breeze catches between the buildings. There’s a sweet smell.” She leans back in her chair, allowing the tea to coat her stomach and empty spaces left over. Her stomach feels slightly stretched and rests her fingers across her tummy, “I’m stuffed. I can’t fit any more in me.”
“If you’re not gonna eat all that, I’ll get a to-go box and take it with us.”
“Good idea. I don’t much like wasting food,” she agreed.
He signals a random server, and Drake says, “We need a to-go box.”
“I’ll get your waiter,” the busboy replied.
Josephine watches the gentleman walk off and Drake slides a steak knife into his cast. He presses to his feet, “I’ve gotta go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He heads toward the men’s bathroom off to the side. A family room accompanies space between the two bathrooms, and the word Vacant displays in green. He swerves behind the door and flips the lock. Drake takes both his shirts off, untangling them from his cast.
The faucet runs and Drake takes out the steak knife from his cast. One look and, “Dammit.” The knife is the wrong shape for any procedure and throws the cutlery toward the trashcan. “Worthless.” He tries squeezing the impregnated area, but soon quits, “This is gonna make it swell up.”
Drake stares at his reflection, “I need a real blade.” His head wobbles and realizes he’s panicking. “I can’t go back to the cabin without…” and grins. “Damn, I need to calm down. I’m smarter than them goons.” He reaches into his pocket, gripping his five-inch blade, pocket knife, unfolding it with one hand in mere seconds, “Got one right here,” winking at himself.
About three minutes in, and Drake digs into his arm. He’s pulling out the device. He’s nearly growling with his exhale by the time…
Pop
and the tracker dislodges with some tissue. He’s squeezing the tracker by his casted hand, and looking at his last shackle in the sink. “Nobody owns me,” placing the device into his pocket. Finally, he breathes a sigh of relief.
The hard part is done, he thinks, now for the easy stuff.
On their way home from the river, Drake clutches his black shirt firmly to his arm. His eyes scan every now and then toward ranches and overgrown land. Josephine becomes curious, viewing over at him, “What are you doing, Drake? Why’re you holding your shirt in your arm like that?”
He hunches, “I’m feeling queasy. I have it in case I throw up.”
“Do you think it was the food?”
He turns back, guarding his leftovers with his eyes, “No. It’s not the food.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Pain. My arm is throbbing. I lost my medicine somewhere on the river and the muscles are seizing around the screws.” His eyes lock on a target of barbed wire, “Pullover.” He hunches over. “I have to puke. Pull over right here! Don’t look!”
She pulls off to the shoulder immediately. “I won’t look.”
He picks up a plastic bag from under his seat, compressing his black shirt tighter. He jets from the door, “Don’t look,” and slams the door with a kick. Drake runs back where his eyes spotted a resting place for his side plan. He slides through barbed wire into a cattle field lining the road. Straight down from a ridge and around an overgrown bluff. He hides behind a cubicle of brush and opens the bag, taking the tracker from his pocket. He wraps the tracker within the bag and ties everything shut, latching his whereabouts to a tree branch. He rakes over and sees no traffic. “I wasn’t followed.” Drake ties his black shirt to a post, flagging his spot from the road.
After he’s done, he stands close behind the truck, memorizing the landscape — the ridgeline, t-shirt, overgrown sage and cactus meeting barbed wire. “Perfect,” he said.
Josephine is gazing in the opposite direction. Gazing, until, her truck moves from Drake climbing back in. “Are you okay?” She turned, “Do you need a minute,” concerned eyes greet him.
He’s bends forward, “I just can’t take the pain sometimes.”
“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Her head sinks downward and notices his arm is bleeding. She gasps, “What happened to your arm?”
He yanks it back over his abdomen before she can ask anything else, “I caught it on some barbed wire while trying to make sure you couldn’t see me.”
“I wasn’t looking.”
“Excuse me but… it’ll take me a while to trust you again.”
Guilt is almost chewable after he says it. “I wasn’t looking,” she said quietly.
“Don’t fuss over me. It doesn’t hurt as bad as my broken arm does.”
◆◆◆
Josephine parks in the driveway and Drake stays behind. He watches her walking toward the house, and says, “I’m gonna walk around for a little bit before going back inside. It might make me feel better in case I throw up again.” Josephine grabs his leftovers and Drake carries his next steps of planning toward the back sod, skipping passed the house and behind the barn. As his phone brushes against his ear, Lucius stays several feet from Drake. Waiting. Listening. Learning what plan brews between Drake and the men he saw earlier.
&nbs
p; Eddie answers, “Well, Drake, I know you’re not really calling from Spain.”
“A new app I found. So… you are tracking my phone?”
“We put a lock on at after our meeting today. Yes.”
Drake twitches his jaw, “You already put a freaking tracker in my arm. Why you gotta track my phone? I told you I wasn’t hiding from you.”
Eddie laughs, “Blah. Blah. You’re slippery, Drake. But… you surprised us with this one. I thought for sure we were gonna bury you tomorrow.”
Drake sneers, “With us being old friends? Come on. I only make y’all money. I’ve never taken what I couldn’t pay back.”
“I don’t know how you do it — pulling this one out of your dusty hat. Mr. Estevez is good to go on her. We snapped a shot and he really likes her.”
“I told you she was hot and unspoiled. We just have to think of a way where you can pick her up,” Drake said.
Eddie chimes in, “Where does she live? We can just get her there.”
“Too many variables,” realizing his hiding spot would be found out. “We have to make it discreet and away from an eyeing population.”
“What did you have in mind,” Eddie asked.
“I’ll have her break down somewhere in the boonies. You can easily pull up behind her and give her a lift,” quoting his good finger beside the phone. “Once she’s in the car, you can shoot her with a tracker and drug her. Or whatever the hell y’all do to the girls after I groom ‘em for you.”
Eddie answers, “We have to ensure that she’ll be at the place we agree on. We’re tracking you.”
“I see that now. I couldn’t hide if I wanted to.”
“You know what’ll happen to you if she’s not broken down on the road we agree on?”
Drake smiles, “Are you guys gonna take this crapper tracker out of my arm when you have her,” holding in laughter, “I don’t want this tether y’all use for your trade.”
Eddie says, “We have a way of getting it out. Only when we have the girl first.”
They agree on a secluded road leading to Kerrville, Texas. Drake explains, “She’ll be there in the morning. I’ll make sure she has nothing to defend herself with. I’ll make her leave her gun at home.”
“Yeah. Just tell her one of your stupid lies about the orphanages you help. I’m sure you’ve already used that one on her.”
Drake chuckles, “Works every time. A woman can’t help but… be touched by it,” and finishes the call. Drake walks toward the back door.
Lucius is staring at Drake’s slow steps. Confident steps. Lucius mulls down how much he grips dagger handles. He gripping them tightly and arches back. But pauses. His biceps are thumping. Grinding his teeth. Two times he tries. Two times he hesitates. Drake’s head is lined up perfectly. His back is turned. Josephine would be safe. An easy shot. A small voice enters his mind.
It’ll be quick. You could make it look like an accident where the dagger went in. No one would know.
His mind gyrates, always coming to the same conclusion — This isn’t me. I don’t break rules. This is what they want.
He loosens his grip, placing his Gamerin metal back where it belongs. “Don’t play into their hands, Lucius.”
◆◆◆
Josephine walks from the kitchen, glancing over to see Drake come in from the back door. “I’m taking a shower and going to bed.” She’s two steps up the stairs and stops. “What were you doing out there in the dark,” pulling her hair to one side, letting it hang over her shoulder. She fingers through a knot and waits on his answer.
“Um… I was on the phone with an orphanage in Kerrville,” his head hung, “I’m gonna be out of work, Jojo.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ll lose that delivery.” He raises his cast, “They need me to make a grocery run for them by five in the morning. I made the appointment… but… I can’t drive. And I ran out of vacation days.”
Her lips pucker, “You’re right,” and her eyes drift off, “That’s horrible. What are you gonna do?” He lets her think in silence, playing along with a brainstorming session. She says, “Maybe you can call one of your delivery friends? They can take your delivery. Let them know your situation.”
His head jiggles, “No. They’re all ravenous for new routes and mine are the best. I’ve been hiding my condition from them.” His expression widens, “Hey… you could do it for the kids.”
“Me?”
“They need help and I can’t do it. I’ll lose my income if it’s not done. I won’t ever be able to move out.”
Her shoulders plummet. Really, she thinks.
“You could bring the food.” He leans against the banister adding a hop to his step, “Yeah. This would be easy for you. I’ll pay you for it. All you have to do is pick up the groceries from the distributer and bring it over to the orphanage in Kerrville by five o’clock. They’ll unload it.”
“In the morning? No wonder I never saw you make a delivery. I don’t know about that Drake. I don’t go out when it’s still dark in new areas. I’ve never made a delivery.”
“No. I’ve seen other women do it. You’re completely safe. They have security in these places. In fact, it’s illegal to bring a gun on the property. So, you know you’re safe. You don’t have to lift anything either, they have people do it for you. Just have them put the groceries in the back of the truck.” He places his hand over his chest and his voice softens, “Think about the kids. You don’t want them eating left over spaghetti and macaroni for breakfast? Do you? Jojo, these kids have nothing and… only because you want a few hours of sleep, they won’t get breakfast either, and I’ll lose my job. Some of these kids were abandoned by their own parents.”
Her eyes search around the room, trying to think of anything
but
nothing.
“Okay, Drake. If you go with me to get gas in the truck right now and go with me in the morning, I’ll do it.”
He grabs his arm, sucking air through his teeth. He pauses for a moment, “Ahh… a sharp pain.” He hunches forward and reaches over the banister, clasping onto her hand. “I think I’m gonna get sick again. I just can’t stand the pain sometimes. The only thing that helps is when I’m sleeping. Walking around and sitting up makes me sicker. I shouldn’t have gone today. I knew I was pushing it.”
She covers her drooping mouth, “I —
“It’s okay.” He manages to speak through gritting teeth, “I’ll go with you. Even if it hurts. I wanna do it for the kids because you’re scared to help them in the morning. I can’t lose my job. It was too much to ask… to trust you again.”
“You can trust me.”
He grasps his arm, as if stopping a shooting pain, “Sometimes I just can’t bare it without my pills. I wish I wouldn’t have lost them.”
“Nevermind, Drake,” she says, “Leave me directions. You need to lay down now, so you don’t get worse. Lucius told me once, sleeping helps with healing.” She pats his shoulder through the banister, “Do you want me to bring you an aspirin or something?”
“No. I’ll look for some pain medicine myself while you go get gas. Maybe I won’t get sick while you’re gone.”
Josephine takes a couple steps back down and puts on her boots, then grabs her keys. Her purse swings over her shoulder and pivots back toward him. “Put the directions on the refrigerator. I’ll just type it in my GPS.”
“Your phone map won’t pick up the addresses. They do it to protect the children. You’ll have to follow my instructions from paper.”
“Okay. Put everything I need on the refrigerator.”
◆◆◆
She backs her truck out onto the road, whispering to herself, “Kerrville… I think I’m a good friend for this.” She spools her head back and runs her errand.
Drake watches tail lights disappear through the window. As soon as the road turns dark, he gathers his tools. He grabs a sewing needle, hammer, water hose, empty gasoline can from the shed, and a lighter. “This s
hould do it.” He hides everything outside behind the chimney, and away from driveway vision. With everything in place, he heads upstairs to make a phone call.
Eddie answers, “So, now you live in England. Or that’s what your IP address is saying. Are we good to pick her up in the morning?”
“I’m writing the instructions for her now. Quit tracking me. You already have a tracker in my arm.”
“Mr. Estevez likes having no surprises with you.”
“Whatever. She should be there when we said. All by herself and completely unarmed. Do you remember the time?”
“I remember. We’ll come out to where we’re tracking you when we have her. Then I’ll give you back your prescription. As promised.”
“If you still have it,” twirling his eyes.
“We do — knew you’d want them back.”
Drake hangs up. “Slim chance. I’m not stupid enough to believe that. Idiots.”
Drake places his directions on the refrigerator and turns all the lights down. He climbs into bed just as headlights beam over his ceiling. “Too easy.”
Josephine is quiet when noticing all lights are out. She carries herself upstairs and takes a shower. As soon as he hears water running, he sneaks downstairs and grabs her keys, a flashlight, and heads out toward the driveway.
He takes the needle nose pliers and holds the needle still. With his lighter in hand, he burns the edge of the needle. The metal glows reddish orange and he places the point over plastic of her dashboard, directly over the gas gauge. Plastic melts straight through and taps the crafting hammer over it, sticking the needle gauge from moving toward empty. Drake eyeballs the placement and where it reads a full tank of gas. “Perfect.”
Almost done, he thinks.
Drake siphons gasoline into a couple large gas containers until full. He grabs all his supplies, hiding his evidence in the shed and checks the gas gauge one last time. The needle continues to read full. Drake sneaks into the house and places her keys back before stepping upstairs, and hears the shower water across the loft. He climbs into his bed and lies down. “Almost rid of her,” checking the time on his phone, “Only six hours before deadline.”
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