Inside, I remind myself that Zander is only a few years older than me. I should be careful before I wish old age on anyone. Although, in my predicament, I will be lucky to reach such an age.
“So, who do you have then if your sister and parents are gone?” Van finally asks, his attention completely on me.
I smile sadly at him, never feeling more alone than I do right now. “No one.” I shake my head and hope to loosen my self-pity that has wrapped tightly around me. I need to stop making this about me. Wasn’t I trying to cheer Van up?
“But Zander can help you,” Van is quick to interject. “You can hang out with us, and then you won’t be alone anymore.”
It’s such a simple answer, full of innocence. It sounds so easy said like that.
Then I remember I am a complete stranger with only a few dollars to my name. Plus, I basically kidnapped Van, as well as stole Zander’s car. Every possibility from this situation ends with me being arrested, and then I will be back in Brian’s hands.
Then, my life will be over.
“You seem sure Zander can help me; that he will be willing to help me,” I point out, my voice shaking a little as I try to put my inevitable future out of my mind.
“He loves a challenge. I bet he would help you out just because it sounds difficult.”
Again, a simple solution. If only it could be true. Difficult, I could handle. My situation is more than that. It’s complicated, messy, and beyond dangerous. My situation is deadly.
“Then, what you’re saying is Zander is a good person, if he is willing to help me.”
Van frowns a little at that. “Are you trying to make me feel bad for hating my brother? Because, he’s an asshole. You heard him. He’s the worst.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” I rush out. No way do I want him to turn on me now. “I’m just saying that you seem to be describing two different people.”
“That’s because he’s nice to everyone else. He’s an asshole to me.”
“To be honest, the way he answered the phone sort of gave away that might be true,” I admit, and Van nods eagerly. “But he also sounded worried when he realized you were gone. I bet he doesn’t let much worry him, but he definitely cares about you.”
Van seems to consider this before shaking his head. “He’s worried about his car.”
I can’t really dispute this since I don’t know Zander. Maybe he is the asshole Van is convinced he is. God knows I have seen the worst humanity has to offer. I know better than most that monsters come in all forms.
“Okay, I’m only going to say one more thing, and then I’m going to shut up about this.” I wait for Van to nod, which he does reluctantly. “I was angry at my sister for a long time. I never bothered to see things from her perspective. Hell, even a part of me blamed her for dying. Like she even had a choice in leaving me. Not until a long time after she died did I begin to think on things from her point of view.
“She was going through all the same things as me, except I could let out some of my grief. She held all of hers inside to be strong for me. She lost our mom, too. She had to grow up way faster than anyone deserves, and I didn’t care at the time. So maybe, just remember that Zander lost his parents, too. He also suddenly became in charge of a very headstrong, smart, fearless twelve-year-old boy. I bet that is pretty daunting. So maybe give him a break every once in a while.”
Van doesn’t say anything for a while. I hope it’s because he’s letting my words sink in, and not because he’s tuned me out.
I fear I might have overstepped, and since I honestly have no idea what his situation is like, or if his brother is as good as I have tried to make him out to be, I hope I haven’t just screwed up another person’s life. I have done a great job with my own already.
“It’s a left up here,” he finally says.
I breathe out in relief and restart the engine. It’s almost completely dark now, so I turn the headlights on, as well.
“Thanks. I’m sorry about all this. I promise you I’ll shut up from now on.”
We drive in almost complete silence. The only words spoken are when Van gives me some directions. Part of me wonders if he’s not giving me a bit of a runaround, considering it takes us much longer to get back than the amount of time we were driving. I don’t comment, though.
All too soon, I begin to recognize a few buildings. We are only a couple blocks away now.
“Why is someone after you?” Van asks me quietly.
I look over at him, finding him looking more quizzical than nosy.
“I dated the wrong man,” I answer, which is the only part of my predicament that is safe for Van to hear.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that not everyone in life are good. My ex is finding it a little hard to let go.” I oversimplify things, hoping he won’t keep pushing this. My situation is not for the ears of a child. Hell, I don’t think my own ears can handle the story and I’m an adult, stuck living it!
“What happened to your car, then?”
“I can be traced with it.”
“Can’t you go to the police?” he suggests, his little forehead crinkled as he tries to come up with an answer to my problems.
“My ex is the police,” I say on a sigh. Things would be so much simpler if that statement wasn’t so true.
“Oh … My brother can help you,” he offers me again.
“Honestly, I doubt anyone can really help me,” I mutter, more to myself than Van.
I wish I didn’t sound so foregone about my situation, but the truth is, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I know I will eventually be caught.
With no proper money and no help, what exactly do I have out here, anyway? I have no idea how to survive on the run. I couldn’t even manage to steal a car right!
“Zander can help. He has people who work for him, and they’re badass. They help people every day,” Van says quietly, reading my pitying demeanor. He knows I’m ready to give up.
“I don’t even have money to pay him.” I also know there is a huge chance police will be waiting to meet us when we return.
“He doesn’t care about money.”
“Then his business is doomed,” I joke, giving Van a smile to let him know I’m not worried. The last thing I need to leave Van with is any sense of guilt. I don’t want him to worry. I have burdened him enough by kidnapping him.
“It’s just a right here.” He points at the parking lot across the road from the strip joint.
I see a man standing at the edge, watching us with hawk eyes as we pull in, a cell phone to his ear. I fear he is likely on the phone with the police. At least there are no flashing lights waiting for me. Perhaps I will have enough time to make a run for it.
“That your brother?” I confirm.
“Yeah.” Van sighs like he has the world on his shoulders again, as only a kid can feel.
I glance out to see if I can spot the man from earlier, but I thankfully see no sign of him.
“Back safe and sound,” I say to Van as I put the car in park then turn off the engine.
I glance back at Zander, seeing his foot tapping and his eyes narrowed on us. Regardless, I can’t help noticing how in shape he looks. Van is a scrawny kid, but Zander looks like he’s in training for the Olympics’ weight lifting competition. His long-sleeved shirt is stretched to the max over his chest, and his biceps bulge as he fists one hand at his side, the other still attached to his phone at his ear.
“He’s not really that scary,” Van says, reading my apprehension. “He sleeps in Captain America pajamas, and he hasn’t had a girlfriend since I started staying with him. One woman was yelling at him the first night I stayed and said he was a two-minute wonder. I don’t know what that means, but I think that’s why they broke up.”
If I had any liquid in my mouth, I would have spat it out. It’s almost comical, if the man in question wasn’t looking so thunderous. It’s as if he can hear what we are saying. When I realize my window is
still down, I suppose there is a good chance he can.
“Time to face him,” I say, opening the car door just as Zander finishes his phone call.
Was that to the police? How long do I have until they are here?
When he stalks over to meet us, I’m surprised when Van settles in beside me, reaching over to take my hand. I’m certain kids his age would rarely do something like this, and especially not to an almost stranger. I can’t help thinking this is his way of protecting me. I’m touched.
“Vaughn, get over here,” Zander grounds out, his jaw barely moving to allow the words through. His clenched fist morphs to make a finger pointing beside him.
Van squeezes my hand harder, his defiance obvious by the lock of his jaw and the glare on his face. It’s sad, but in this moment, with them both looking furious, I see the family resemblance.
“No,” he snaps at Zander.
“Van, you need to go with your brother,” I say softly, hoping he doesn’t feel betrayed by them. I’m already on the outs with this guy. I don’t need to be considered turning his brother against him.
“Why? I don’t want to.”
“Unfortunately, we rarely get what we want in life. Remember what I said to you in the car?”
“Yes,” he mumbles, glancing down at his shoes, his grip loosening from around mine.
“Can you maybe just give it a try?” I plead.
“But I hate …” He looks over at Zander, his sentence vanishing.
I know what he was going to say, and I’m sure Zander does, too, if he’s said it to him enough. Regardless, I consider it progress that he stopped himself.
“I know, but I think you both will feel better if you just gave him a chance.”
I’m surprised Zander hasn’t stepped in, insisting I stop talking to his kid brother and hand him over. For all he knows, I’m some crazy psycho who could be putting bad thoughts into Van’s head.
“Fine.” He releases my hand and walks woodenly over to Zander.
Zander places his hand on top of Van’s head, but Van is quick to scoot out of his reach.
I’m allowed a brief moment to observe them together. I swear I see relief and even love directed at Van from Zander. His brother was concerned for him.
Their similarities are obvious, with the same blue eyes and tanned skin. Zander’s hair is shorter and has less curl to it and more wave, but it’s clear that Zander is a look into Van’s future.
Then Zander’s gaze turns back to me, and I don’t feel so warm and fuzzy toward him anymore. Instead, I feel as though I’m facing a judge and ready to hear the verdict on just how many years I’m about to be thrown in jail.
“You stole my car,” he growls.
“Yes.” No point denying it.
“You kidnapped my twelve-year-old brother.”
“Technically, yes. However, I wasn’t aware he was in the car at the time,” I pathetically try to defend my actions.
“You came back, though, even after I told you I was calling the police.” His stance is stern, but I see the same expression of curiosity that I saw earlier in Van.
“Yes.” I glance around again, waiting to see the flashing lights of a police car approaching in the distance. Instead, I see a lone officer in uniform approaching us.
I don’t recognize him as one of Brian’s friends, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hand me over to him.
I barely even got to enjoy my freedom away from Brian. Well, it technically wasn’t freedom since I was chased the entire time.
Why can’t I just catch a break?
I can’t stop myself from stepping away from the young officer, my body back to being tense and shaky. I hate that this feels normal to me now. It never used to be. Now it feels strange to feel relaxed.
“What’s wrong?” Van asks me, his concern sweet.
“Excuse me, but did I just hear you accuse this woman of stealing your car?” the officer asks, swinging his hand to rest on his side arm in what looks like a reflex.
Silence falls over us. Van looks as panicked as I feel. I can’t read Zander’s face, but he hasn’t confirmed the man’s words. That gives me a small amount of hope. Maybe he is the most forgiving man in the world.
“No! She’s my brother’s girlfriend. She just took me out to get dinner!” Van blurts, leaving Zander’s side to rush to mine, grabbing my hand like he did earlier.
I wince, not wanting Van to get into trouble for me. “Van, you shouldn’t—”
“Yeah, babe, why don’t you take Vaughn back to my car. We’ll head home in a sec,” Zander says, and Van beams at him.
I try to not look shocked as I nod at him, like what he said isn’t unusual at all. Then I walk stiltedly to the car I only just vacated and hover outside a while before I can bring myself to get in.
Van gets into the backseat, and I take the passenger side, since I suppose this would make more sense than me being in the back with Van.
I push aside the blanket by my feet as I watch Zander exchange a few more words with the cop before making his way over to us. I then hold my breath as I wait for him to tell me to get out and that the cop is going to take me into custody. Instead, he opens the door and gets in, slamming it shut.
“Belt,” he mutters.
I look back to see Van hastily putting his seatbelt on.
It isn’t until Zander sends a stern look my way that I realize I haven’t placed mine on.
Once we are secure, he takes off, leaving the cop behind, watching us, and me feeling confused.
What the hell just happened? Have I gotten myself into a bigger mess now than what I just came from?
Chapter 2
After driving a few blocks in silence, I can’t take it anymore.
“Why did you do that?” I ask the windshield, not able to make my eyes shift to Zander.
“You mean, why did I lie to a police officer for a woman who just stole my car and kidnapped my brother? I have no fucking idea,” he snaps, and I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from telling him not to swear in front of Van.
“She’s not a bad person,” Van angrily defends me from the backseat, his previous gratitude toward Zander vanishing quickly.
“It’s okay, Van,” I tell him softly, feeling my own annoyance deflating a little in the face of his own. “I sort of am a bad person at the moment.” I am well aware that stealing and kidnapping do not make me a contender for the best citizen award.
“But you didn’t have a choice. You should tell him about—”
“Vaughn, that’s enough,” Zander barks, anger tightening each word.
I close my eyes. The tension in the car is rising to uncomfortable levels as I wait for the outburst. I’m not disappointed.
“Stop calling me that! I hate when you do that!” Van screeches, and I wince at how it echoes loudly around the small interior.
“It’s your name!” he shouts back.
“It’s not my name. My name is Van!”
“Your nickname is Van,” Zander is quick to retort. “I am not your friend. I am your brother, and our parents gave you Vaughn, and I refuse to not call you by your proper name!”
This feels like an argument that has likely happened many times before.
I glance back at Van to see tears in his eyes. My heart breaks to see him so upset.
Doesn’t Zander see this? Why can’t he give Van a break? He’s supposed to be the adult here, and Van isn’t asking for something unreasonable, even if I don’t understand the big deal. Still, Van is clearly saying this is a big deal to him.
“I hate you so much. I wish you were—”
“Van,” I quickly interrupt, glancing at Zander to see him grimacing at Van’s words, clearly hurt, before I face Van again. “I know you’re angry, and I definitely think your brother is being a tool-bag to you right now.” I watch as his shoulders drop a little at my agreement. Zander clears his throat as if to remind me that he can hear everything. “But yelling at him and saying hurtful things is not going to
change that. I have a better idea.”
“You do?” Van eyes me warily. He seems torn between hoping my idea is awesome and assuming my idea will be an adult-type—boring and sensible.
“Yep.” I don’t. I have no idea why I said that.
Since being on the run, I have learned new things about myself. Like, I am nosy and enjoy listening in on other people’s conversations. I am incredibly cynical, and have assumed the worst of every person I have seen the last few days. Well, except for Van, but he’s a kid. I am also apparently able to steal a car, although not too successfully. And now I know I am a pathetic liar.
But, since he’s staring at me expectantly, and even Zander is giving me a side-eye, I have to say something. So, I give myself a moment to let my mind race and piece together a likely stupid idea.
“How about, every time your brother upsets you or is being a mega tool-bag, you tell me something embarrassing about him? I bet he’ll learn much quicker to not be so hard on you,” I suggest, my voice getting louder and more confident as the idea sparks happily inside Van’s eyes.
“Ava …” Zander growls, and I involuntarily shiver at how that sounds coming from him.
Brian was a quiet guy whose voice barely rose above or below a flat monotone. He never said my name in anger or excitement. Hearing Zander say my name, all grumbly and annoyed, gets my heart racing a little.
“Are you for fucking real?” he finishes. His eyes leave the road briefly to direct a glare my way.
I wince at the swear word. I’m not entirely sure tool-bag is now appropriate, but it’s better than saying fuck every other sentence.
These are newer things I have just learned about myself. I don’t agree with swearing in front of children, and I have zero concept of keeping my nose and opinion out of people’s business.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from speaking, but even that doesn’t hold me back.
“I think it might be appropriate to not swear in front of your twelve-year-old brother,” I tell him, completely aware that I have stepped so far over the boundary of what is acceptable that I’m in an entirely different city.
I think I must be in some sort of hysterical state, just without the uncontrollable laughter. Maybe that is still coming. And maybe that is why I’m being utterly ridiculous right now.
I Stole His Car (Love at First Crime Book 1) Page 3