If Wishes Were Horses (A Fairy Tale Life Book 2)

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If Wishes Were Horses (A Fairy Tale Life Book 2) Page 5

by C. B. Stagg


  “But—”

  “No buts. If you don’t show up, I’ll hunt you down. You know you suck at hiding from me, so don’t make me come after you, okay?” His smile was so genuine; it made me feel warm despite the icy wind.

  “Okay… ,” I answered, and we walked the rest of the way without words.

  Chapter 8

  Jase

  THE COLD, OCTOBER FRIDAY passed like any other, yet I stayed on high alert. Feeling I had a duty and responsibility for her well-being, I was constantly on the lookout for Becky in the hallways between classes. I found myself wondering what she was up to when I couldn’t accidentally, on purpose, run into her. Circling by her locker (or what I thought was her locker) several times throughout the day, made it appear as if I were stalking the poor girl, but that wasn’t the case. Not really.

  Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d allowed the door to her solitary life to crack open just a bit. While she hadn’t let me in completely, she hadn’t shut me out either—and I had every intention of pushing through. I wanted to know everything there was to know about this mystery girl who’d spent her life hiding in plain sight, but whom I was just truly seeing for the first time.

  When the lunch bell rang, I was already packed up halfway to the door of my physics class. Zigzagging around the loiterers and couples strolling hand in hand, I rushed to the cafeteria, hoping to beat her there. She’d made it clear, without meaning to, that my suggestion for her to eat with me was completely out of her comfort zone. I was hoping to make the transition as seamless as possible. Just as I sat down with my usual, consisting of pizza, a Hershey bar, and Gatorade… I saw Becky enter. It was a good thing, too, as I had been planning to only give her about five more minutes before barreling into the library in search of her hiding spot.

  Her arms were folded tight across her chest as she meandered through the crowd, her backpack hanging off of one shoulder. The way she slouched low and kept her head down, made it look like she thought if she made herself small enough, she’d go completely unnoticed. Then I realized that’s probably how she’d survived. When I saw her eyes peeking up through her lashes, though, looking for someone—I knew it was me—which was an amazing feeling.

  Waving as soon as she glanced my way, I watched as she exhaled, her shoulders falling in relief as she came and slipped her backpack off of her arm and onto the bench beside me. With a tight smile, she turned to face the growing lunch line, carefully pulling the ten out of her pocket. A few minutes later, she was weaving through the growing crowd again, this time balancing a cheeseburger, an ice cream sandwich, and a carton of chocolate milk in her arms.

  Her gait slowed as she approached me, though. A few friends had joined the table, and I watched the relief I’d seen only a short time ago physically seep away. She was becoming easier to read than a Dr. Seuss book. The way her body stiffened, her eyes searching mine out… told me she was seconds away from fleeing. I hopped up and walked the five steps to reach her and guided her the rest of the way to the table, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, but only Casey gave me any attention. “This is Becky Johns. She’s in my algebra class, and we study together sometimes.” I nodded and smiled at her, but she just looked like a scared child. I rubbed her back a few times, hoping to communicate that she was safe and that I would take care of her.

  “Hey, Bec… can I call you Bec?”

  She nodded shyly, and Casey’s attempt to make Becky feel like part of the crowd warmed my insides. He was the oldest of three boys and had been raised by two of the nicest, most down-to-earth people on the planet. They’d welcomed me into their home and into their family from the moment we moved into the neighborhood more than ten years ago. Casey had come to be my Ride or Die in life… that is, until Lacey sunk her fangs into him. But still, he was intuitive when it came to delicate situations. For me, bringing a girl to the table (especially someone out of our general circle of friends) was unheard of. His attempt to make friends with Becky told me he not only knew there was a story behind my actions, but also that he had my back and would do what he could to help.

  “I’m Casey. You probably don’t know me because I’m not in the genius classes like you and my boy, Jase, here.” He smiled, offering up his giant paw, and I watched her relax as she took it, then slipped onto the bench where she’d set her backpack.

  She sat incredibly close to me and, while no one else really paid attention, I could tell Casey noticed. Not only that, but he saw she was wearing my clothes too. Over her head, he shot an eyebrow up in question, but I just shook my head and mouthed later. I’d have to tell him at least part of what was happening, but not now, and definitely not here. For the rest of the forty-five minute block, Casey, Becky, and I made easy conversation. And if nothing else came of the day, I at least knew Becky was well on her way to having someone else in her corner. A corner that, until recently, I feared had been an incredibly lonely place for her.

  Algebra class that afternoon proved to be interesting. Instead of sitting in my usual spot, I snuck in and slid into the desk behind Becky, tapping the back of her chair with my pencil until she was aggravated enough to turn around. Her wrinkled brow relaxed when she saw it was just me and the slow, shy smile painted across her face in replacement made me ridiculously happy. I was glad I made the seat switch. We whispered back and forth a little throughout the period, and by the end, I felt like we’d been friends for years.

  The wind had picked up significantly, and the now overcast skies painted a bluish-purple haze through the shadows of the woods where we were to meet, giving the entire area an eerie quality.

  “There you are. Jeez, I’ve been waiting forever. It’s freakin’ cold out here!” I’d been bouncing around in the woods behind the football field for at least ten minutes and was starting to lose feeling in my toes.

  “Jase—” She reprimanded me like a child, and I loved the glimpse of her bossy personality that had popped up seemingly out of nowhere. “I literally walked out of class and straight out here! You could not have been waiting for me that long.” She bumped me with her backpack and started walking the path that had brought us here just this morning. I watched her for a second, and then jogged a few steps to catch up to her, as we set out toward home.

  “Yeah, well, I may have come out here a little early. Casey was on my ass to go to Dairy Queen after school, and I was scared I wouldn’t be able to shake him.” I chuckled, thinking of Casey, who was probably searching for me all over campus right about now. When I looked back at Becky though, her eyes were downcast, and her shoulders drooped. Her smile had vanished.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, sliding her backpack off her arm and adding it to mine.

  “Why didn’t you go with him?” She looked up at me, and I saw tears clinging to her lashes. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought she was in physical pain. “Jase, I don’t want to be the reason you aren’t hanging out with your friends.” It was frightening how quickly her mood could change. Even more frightening was how her mood changes had a direct effect on mine.

  Placing my hands on her shoulders before rubbing her arms a few times, I admitted the truth. “I didn’t want to go. Casey lives across the street. I can see him anytime. Besides, I wanted to spend time with you.”

  She shook her head, closing her eyes, but not before I saw the tears let loose and start rolling. What little sun there had been passed behind the clouds and the already misty, overcast day became even drearier almost instantly. I pulled her body toward me and held her again. That seemed to be the magic formula for changing Becky’s mood last night and I figured if it worked once, it was worth a try. Plus, it made me feel better, too. I was finding my own comfort in her closeness.

  “Come on.” I let go and grabbed her hand, pulling her further into the dark. “Let’s go home.”

  The house was quiet when we entered through the back. I’d been extremely careful to make sure we weren’t detected entering or exiti
ng, fearing my mother’s wrath at being caught. This whole bringing girls home thing was new to me, but I felt confident my mother would not approve of me having guests of the opposite sex over unsupervised. And I didn’t need my friends spilling my secret before I had a chance to figure out my next move. Once we were inside, I checked the machine, and sure enough, the light was blinking red.

  “Jase, I hate to abandon you, but I’ve been in Dallas most of the day and I feel like staying and working through tomorrow will eliminate the need for me to come back next week. Order pizza and call Jill or Claire if you need anything. Be good! No parties. Or girls. Love you! Bye!”

  Chapter 9

  Becky

  ON THE ONE HAND, I was relieved I didn’t have to sneak around Jase’s house for the next twenty-four hours. On the other hand, I was a little wary of being alone with Jase all night. The way he looked at me made me feel… good. Maybe a little too good. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me in the forest this afternoon. And I didn’t think I planned to stop him either.

  Jase Pearson was the best person I’d ever known, but I felt that way about him even before he took me in. I watched people, Jase included, and one thing I admired about him is how he treated others, no matter their age, race, or income level. He was the type of guy mothers adored, and the kind fathers knew they could trust with their daughters. I could only wish to settle down with someone as genuine and big-hearted. But I needed a boyfriend about as much as Jase needed algebra tutoring, which was not at all. I wonder what he tastes like and are his lips as soft as they look?

  “Hello… Earth to Becky.”

  Whoops. I wondered how long he’d been calling my name. We’d been working on homework for what felt like hours, but he smelled like soap and winter and boy, so I was struggling to stay focused.

  “Oh, sorry.” I shook the fog out of my head and wondered if my cheeks were as flushed as they felt. “What was that again?” I hoped I hadn’t been staring at him like a freak.

  “I asked what kind of pizza you liked.” With those perfectly straight, white teeth, I just knew his broad smile would be my undoing. “Where were you just now?”

  Nope, uh-uh. No way was I going to tell him I was imagining him pressing his mouth against mine. I knew what a colossal mistake that would be.

  “Um, I like all pizza, and I don’t know where I was just now. I tend to drift off sometimes.” I stood and stretched.

  “Hey, so I’ve been thinking about your living situation. Just let me finish getting this pizza ordered and then I’ll talk to you about it.”

  All those warm, fuzzy feelings that were stirred up just by imagining Jase kissing me, were snuffed out by thoughts of the real world I was living in. I was homeless, and no matter what I did or didn’t feel for Jase—or what he did or didn’t feel for me—he wasn’t going to be able to change that fact. And boys like Jase, with mothers like Marian Pearson, didn’t date homeless girls.

  Jase dialed the phone number for pizza delivery from memory and was placing the order like he was talking to an old friend, which made me curious. Ordering out seemed like the norm for him, and I wondered where he fell on his mother’s priority list.

  With Jase occupied, I took advantage and snooped around a bit. His home was grand with hardwood floors, expensive rugs I was scared to walk on, and built-in, perfectly styled bookshelves everywhere. The state-of-the-art kitchen had granite countertops, a marble backsplash, and what appeared to be brand-new stainless steel appliances. On the refrigerator hung multiple pieces of children’s artwork, some with JASE in all caps at the bottom. I pictured Jase as a proud little boy presenting his mother with such treasures, and wondered what her reaction had been. She’d obviously seen enough value in them to create a display in such a place of honor. It made me curious as to what my mom had done with all my school projects.

  The family room had an entire wall of shelves, but only about half of the space was actually being used to store books. The spaces between were filled with a few small decorative items, but mostly pictures. There were beautifully framed pictures of Jase through the years, both professionally made photos and candid shots. He’d been such a fat baby, which surprised me considering how lean he was now. I saw one of him and his mom with who I assumed to be his grandfather. All three had the same facial structure and startling red hair, though the older man’s was noticeably lighter as if it had been left out in the sun for too long.

  I ran my finger along the dust-free shelves as I took in the pictorial timeline of Jase’s life. I looked for a complete family picture—one with him and both of his parents—but came up empty-handed. I wondered about his dad, but then again, I wondered about mine, too. Maybe that was the one thing we had in common—we were both unworthy of our father’s love. Catching me off guard, I jumped when Jase popped up behind me, looking over my shoulder at the picture I’d settled in front of.

  “Oh, no, you found toothless Jase. I have to say, those were not my cutest years.” His words were low and smooth, and as he spoke, his hot breath danced across my neck, making chills dance across my arms.

  I lowered my hand from the frame and turned in place, finding myself just inches away from his chest, my new favorite place to rest my head. “When were your cutest years?” He was so close I could smell the detergent on his clothes, as well as his body wash, which I recognized from the shower I took last night. I had to tip my head straight up to look at his face.

  “You’re lookin’ at ‘em, baby.” He smiled his boyish grin and stole my breath at the same time. This boy may have been cute back in the day, but now, he was magnificent.

  Jase moved his body even closer to mine, holding me captive with his grey-blue eyes for what felt like ages. Neither of us dared to move or look away. When he started to lean in toward me, I closed my eyes, anticipating his mouth on mine… but then the doorbell rang, scaring us both out of our skin and sending us flying to separate corners of the room.

  “I’ll, um… ” He stuck his hands in his pockets as he nodded toward the entryway. “I’ll just go grab our pizza… ”

  I left Jase to settle up with the delivery guy and ran into the half bath just off the kitchen to splash cold water on my face. My heart was threatening to leap out of my chest as the angel on my shoulder warned me that kissing Jase was a really bad idea, while the devil yelled and screamed and jumped up and down, imploring me to just go for it. The devil had been winning the battle until we were, literally, saved by the bell.

  When I returned, I found Jase sitting at the bar and watching the local news as if nothing at all had just happened. He’d set out a roll of paper towels and two plates. The pizza box sat between them, unopened.

  “Have you eaten yet?” I didn’t know why I asked that. It was clear he hadn’t, but I was struggling to string together a coherent sentence after that near miss.

  He looked up at the sound of my voice. “No, I was waiting for you.”

  Of course he was. Because he’s a perfect gentleman. I took my seat beside him, and he opened the box, placing two pieces of steaming, cheesy, grease-puddled pizza on each plate.

  “Jase, I thi—”

  He held up a finger, halting my speech. “I know what you’re gonna say. I was just sitting here thinking about it.”

  “Thinking about what?” I asked. The space in between our bursts of words was so quiet it almost hurt my ears, even with the TV as background noise.

  “Thinking about how I almost just kissed you. And how you almost let me. And what a bad idea that would have been. And how I can’t promise I won’t try it again.” He shrugged, his body looking like a man’s, but his face so innocent and childlike.

  I turned and took a big bite of pizza to avoid having to respond to him. He took the hint and started eating his, too. When we were both finished—having eaten in complete silence, save the weatherman—I stood to clear our plates. While I stood at the sink and washed the few dishes, he dried them before putting them back in the cabinet where they b
elonged. It was such a domestic scene, something ordinary to most people, but completely unfamiliar to me. We worked quietly, side by side, with the news as background noise until a familiar name caught my attention.

  “Earlier this morning, while being transported from Houston Federal Detention Center to the Harris County Courthouse for day three of his trial, Toby Carraway managed to overpower FDC guards and escaped into the woods adjacent the parking lot.”

  “You’ll remember Carraway was arrested earlier this year after an anonymous tip led police to his home, where they found equipment and materials most commonly used to make methamphetamine.”

  “Carraway was initially arrested on drug conspiracy charges. After a lengthy investigation by the Harris County Sheriff’s Office, Cashion Key, and his team from the FBI... new charges of human trafficking were added when a black market baby ring with ties to Carraway was discovered. No word yet if additional charges will be brought against him once he’s captured.”

  “Authorities believe Carraway’s escape was planned and carried out with the help of suspected co-conspirators in the human trafficking ring, who have yet to be apprehended. Toby Carraway is a Caucasian male, standing six foot, two inches, and weighing approximately 250 pounds. He has dark blond hair and green eyes and has family in Harris, Washington, and Brazos counties. Authorities believe that he may try to contact family members in those areas. So if you live in Central Texas, remain alert and report any and all suspicious behaviors. Call 9-1-1 if you see this individual, but avoid any contact, as he is likely armed.”

  “If convicted, Carraway will be facing life in prison.“

 

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