“Sure, only…your fridge ain’t got shit.”
Jake rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, man; I wasn’t aware.”
Tom leaned on the counter and glanced at Gerald’s tank.
“Ooh, that is, unless the furry friends you’re keeping—”
“Hey, thanks for reminding me. You will look in on them while I’m gone, right?”
Tom sank onto the floor with a sort of growled moan.
“Don’t make me do that, Jake.”
“C’mon, bring your sister, Adelaide. She’s in vet school, isn’t she? Perfect experience.”
“She lives far as fuck, man. It would be such a hassle to drive her all the way up here.”
“Dude, if you kill my animals, I will kill you.”
“Not if you’re in jail.”
“You know how many guys owe me favors?”
Silence.
“Shit. All right, all right. Fine.”
Jake grinned and then took out his phone. “Speaking of dinner, I have some pizza to order.”
As Tom and Dalia gaped at him in disbelief, Jake winked at me and, into the phone, said, “Yeah, Bob. Yeah, man, I know. One last time, then I’m out of your hair for good. Okay, for a few weeks, though. Yeah, yeah. Same place. You know it.”
Jake hung up.
“What?” he asked Tom and Dalia’s still surprised faces. “Some guy owes me a favor; I told you.”
“Is there anybody who doesn’t owe you a favor?” Dalia asked.
“Yep,” Jake said, walking over and slinging his arm around me. “Alice. I owe her, like, a hundred.”
“A hundred and two,” I corrected, patting his cheek.
He kissed me, and Tom ambled out the door.
“Gross. I’m having a smoke!” he yelled over to Dalia. She hurried out to join him with a questioning glance at Jake, who shook his head.
“Haven’t smoked for months now,” he said.
I nodded and then joked, “Is there any bad habit you haven’t had?”
“Yeah,” he said as he shot a sidelong look at me. “Being in love.”
That called for more kissing, which neither of us was averse to.
Chapter Fifteen
Jake
Bob took his sweet-ass time delivering the pizza. Still, by the time his shining bald head appeared at my doorstep, Pip had had some time to appear and bark a greeting at Tom and Dalia. Seeing Bob carrying her next-favorite food after squirrels (ham and bacon pizza), Pip trotted up and barked a greeting at him too.
Huddled in the corner of my porch, his face less than amused, Bob declared in a deadpan voice, “If your dog bites me, I’ll kill you.”
To which I replied, “And?”
A significant look in his eye, Bob retorted, “And then you won’t have any pizza.”
Nodding, I called Pip off and then took the box.
“Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bob said, walking away already.
“Hey, Bob?”
He stopped but didn’t turn.
“You want one?”
Now he turned around, his bushy black brows raised in incredulity.
“You kidding me, man? I have that crap every day—morning, noon, night, dessert. Sick of the stuff.”
Pip started to make her way back toward Bob as he continued to his little white ‘Sexy Pizza’ labeled car. He called over his shoulder, “Give my piece to your dog.”
So I did. She carried it inside proudly.
“Wow, looks delish,” Tom said sarcastically.
Although after we’d opened the box and he’d had his first bite, Tom kept his mouth shut since he was enjoying the damn thing so much.
It was an “idiotic” scene as Tom would say, or a “sweet” one as Alice would. All four of us crammed together on my crummy couch, stuffing our faces with Sexy Pizza that was actually yummy, the delicious tang of the ham and bacon mixing strangely with the ever-potent stench of the Rasta hat (which we had chucked outside fifteen minutes ago). Everyone smiling at pizza, or, more likely, nothing in particular.
It was weird. Alice and I were about to go on the run for two crimes I’d made a mess of, and we could end up never seeing Tom or Dalia again. I should have been nervous, a little afraid, maybe exhilarated. Instead, I felt utterly at ease. Like finally I was on the right path somehow. A fucked-up, dangerous, and risky one, sure, but still, finally, one that felt right. Splat on the couch in the middle of everyone, with my past on one side of me and my future on the other, I felt like right here, right now, I could do anything.
Tom was the one who broke my reverie.
“Goddam, was that some sexy pizza.”
“Only 12 dollars for a large,” I chirped.
Then, silence. Tom slapped me on the back.
“Christ, am I gonna miss you, you big fuckup.”
I mussed up his hair and then rose. We hugged.
“Thanks, Tom. For everything.”
Tom shifted, and next thing I knew, Alice’s head was beside me, engulfed in Tom’s huge hug.
“You take good care of this crazy man, you hear?” Tom said to her.
She laughed.
“I’ll do my best.”
Tom shifted again, and, after some scuffling, Dalia’s bitter, bleached head was between Tom and me.
“Good luck, Jake,” she said. “You’re all right.”
With this impressive remark setting the tone for our group hug, Tom gave everyone one more giant squeeze, and then we separated.
“You want us to go first or you?” Tom asked.
I shook my head.
“You can stay here for as long as you want to take care of everything, if you feel like it. Or just stop in every few days or so to feed the little shed guys.”
Tom’s jaw actually dropped, showing a row of cigarette-ravaged lower teeth.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Just don’t do anything idiotic like blow it up or eat the toad.”
“Shit, yeah—I mean no, of course not.” Tom shook his head so hard that some sticky strands of hair detached from his head and wagged along too. “Fuckers at my job just gave me the boot too, and—” His excited gaze flicked to me again. “Seriously?”
I nodded, and Tom hugged me, whooped, and then hugged Dalia.
“We got ourselves a regular old mountainside getaway, Dal!”
As they whooped and raced around like kids on Christmas morning, Alice and I made our way to the door.
“How do those two know each other exactly?” Alice asked.
I turned back to survey them once more. I shrugged.
“They never mentioned it, actually. Think some metal concert maybe.”
“Ah.”
Another silence. Then Alice asked, “Shouldn’t we pack?”
I shook my head and explained. “I loaded in all our stuff while you were sleeping. Not like there was much anyway.”
Her face went through an adorable sequence of surprise, confusion, and irritation before settling on a guarded sort of delight.
“You knew we’d go together all this time?”
I nodded.
“I guess you could say that.”
She kissed me, laughed, and then took my hand.
“Well, we better get going then.”
So we did. All decked out in our ridiculous costumes, our bellies full of delicious pizza, we got into the same black van Alice had been in the back of last time.
Once I started the engine, Tom and Dalia, as well as Pip, ran to the doorway.
As we drove off, they waved, whooped, and barked. In the rearview mirror, they shrank to tiny specks. Then we turned around a bend and they were gone.
That was it. No more petty household or friend concerns. There was only the road, the cops, and us, and who was going to beat who.
Chapter Sixteen
Alice
I couldn’t tell him. In the roadside truck stop bathroom, I stared at my reflection and nodded. No, there was no way I could
tell Jake just what kind of texts I’d been getting. They were the real reason I had rushed into the washroom. I just hadn’t been able to take it anymore.
It was nice that Jake had gotten another friend who owed him a favor to transfer my phone number and messages onto this burner phone, but being reconnected to my friends and family was turning out to be more of a curse than a blessing. I realized the mistake as soon as the messages started rolling in.
First, there were Papa’s anxious texts: Is he still there? When are you coming home? What’s going on? Paul’s worried about you. What’s going on?
Then Lux’s sad ones: Are you mad at me? Is that why you aren’t texting? If the kidnapper asshole is seeing this, then FUCK YOU. Alice, please, if you’re seeing this, please, please just respond. Please.
They didn’t understand. I couldn’t text them back, not yet anyway. Because yes, Jake had been with me every step of the way on this journey the past few days, but that was a good thing, not a bad thing. The only thing that had kept me sane in this whirlwind of running was the prospect of our nights all snuggled up together, rejoining ourselves and forgetting everything else.
I couldn’t text them, because I didn’t know when I was coming home or how long this running from the cops was going to go on. Every day, Jake mentioned turning himself in to the police, but I couldn’t bear to let him do it, not yet. If he got put in jail for good, I didn’t know what I’d do with myself.
So for now, it was this: fast food and slow driving in our ugly disguises so that we stayed under the police’s radar.
Even Paul had texted me: Alice, sweetie, are you all right? I heard from your dad. You text me as soon as you get this, you hear? God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life.
Not responding to that bastard wasn’t easy either. Every part of my being hissed at me to tell him to go screw himself, to tell him that I knew the truth now, to call him so I could laugh in his face.
But instead, after his latest message, while Jake chowed down on three burgers, I hurried into the bathroom and set my phone to airplane mode.
Then I looked at my pale face and sad eyes in the mirror and whispered, “You can’t tell him.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jake
Who would’ve thought a week could go by so fast? Well, you know what they say—time flies when you’re on the run from the police.
I glanced at Alice beside me. Looking out the window, her face wore none of the strain of the late nights and early mornings we’d been forced to keep. This had been on Tom’s recommendation, his reasoning being that there were fewer cops on the roads during the night. Up until now, he’d been right. Thankfully, we hadn’t been stopped—not yet anyway.
As I pulled into the parking lot in front of the building with the giant jukebox on its sign, a smile flickered across Alice’s face.
“This is the place?”
I nodded, stopped the car, and took her hand.
“This is it.”
We adjusted our disguises, gave each other the usual good luck kiss, and clambered out.
As soon as we walked in, I could see that Tom had been as good as his word—better even. Peggy Sue’s Diner was a veritable step back into the past: classic black and white tiled floor, 50s rock and roll paraphernalia all over the walls, and a red and black bedecked waitress who squealed, “Oh, I’ll be damned!” at sight of us.
To be fair, with Alice’s pink and yellow go-go dress and red wig (added due to her staunch refusal to bleach her hair), as well as my hideous shirt and rank Rasta wig, we’d drawn much more vehement responses, from catcalls and whoops to stares that didn’t stop.
“Well, y’all will just fit right in,” the waitress declared, showing off her buck teeth.
Her sausage fingers directed us to a booth. We sat down and she swept away, leaving us to look at the peeling, faded picture of Marilyn Monroe on the wall beside our table.
Alice took my hand.
“I like this place, babe.”
Absentmindedly, I nodded while I scanned the room out of the corner of my eye. The guy sitting by the TV seemed to be staring at us too long, though it could have always just been because of my ugly-ass outfit or Alice’s hot one. But his ball cap looked stupid—a Toronto Maple Leafs fan in Nevada? It couldn’t be that he was…
My foot was brushed. I looked up to see Alice pouting at me.
“Pay attention to me,” she whined jokingly.
I kissed her on the cheek, patting the other one with my hand.
“Sorry, babe. You know how I worry.”
Her foot strokes were rising higher and higher up my leg. Now they were at my knee. Alice said nothing, but she didn’t have to. Was she thinking the same thing I was?
“…And this just in: Paul Van Patten, the famous Denver banker, has just been caught trying to flee the country after his company’s 100-million dollar off-shore account was uncovered to be siphoning money from customers.”
At the same time, Alice’s head and mine whipped around to the television where, sure enough, the scowling blond face of Paul was shown as he was manhandled into a cop car.
I grasped both of Alice’s hands and squeezed. She was beaming like I’d never seen before.
Her foot was now stroking my inner thigh. I wanted to seize her—right there and then—sweep her up in my arms and spin her around. Instead, I kissed her, and when we parted, our returning waitress let out an appreciative whoop.
“Well aren’t y’all just the cutest thing since sliced bread.”
Under her delighted spider-lashed gaze, Alice and I smiled sheepishly.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked.
Over her shoulder, the man with the Maple Leafs hat was staring at us again.
“Oh, you know”—I took Alice’s hand and squeezed—“love.”
Our waitress—Alma, according to her nametag—nodded appreciatively.
“So, what’s next?”
“Las Vegas,” Alice exclaimed before I had a chance to respond.
“Well I’ll be,” Alma crowed.
“I think we’re ready to order,” I said.
“Huh,” Alma said. “Didn’t give ya the menus or nothing.”
“Yes, but—” I pried a menu out of her hand and, after a quick glance, declared, “We’d like to split the big breakfast.”
“Jake—” Alice said, and, under the table, I kicked her.
“We’re really hungry too, so as fast as you can,” I said with an unconvincing grin. “Thanks.”
Alma left grumbling and Alice turned to me with a glare.
“I wanted a hot dog.”
I took her hand.
“Babe, I’ll buy you a whole pack as soon as we’re out of Mesquite. I just don’t think we should stay here much longer. We should probably try to get out of this restaurant as fast as we can.”
Alice’s forehead crinkled in concern.
“Oh, why?”
I leaned in, lowered my voice, and said, “The guy by the TV—don’t look—he seems to be staring at us suspiciously. His hat is all weird, too.”
Her mouth in a worried “O,” Alice nodded. Then, slowly, casually, she threw a glance over her shoulder. A glance which turned into a full-on staring session. The man rose and started walking toward us. I jumped up, but Alice placed a hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, Jake. I know him.”
Now standing in front of Alice, the man took off his hat and shoved out his hand.
“Alice. Knew I recognized ya, even in that kooky dress and wig.”
I shot a worried glance at Alice, but her smile was relaxed, genuine. If this guy recognized her, had a functioning brain, and had seen any news segment in the past week, then why on Earth shouldn’t I be worried?
“This is Gabriel,” Alice said to me. “He’s my best friend Lux’s boyfriend.”
Gabriel’s black eyes were flicking from Alice to me and then back to Alice again.
“Hey, Alice…you good?”
Ther
e was a moment’s pause, in which Tom’s words flashed in my head. This girl, she’s playing you, playing you, playing you…
But then Alice laughed.
“Yes, Gabe, completely. The TV stations have it all wrong. Jake’s a good guy, just got mixed up in some bad business. I’m not here against my will.”
Gabriel nodded slowly, as if trying to decide whether to yell for the cops now or later. Alice touched the arm of his thick navy sweatshirt.
“Gabe, please. You can call Lux after our meal and everything. Just sit here and hear me out.”
Gabriel nodded slowly, sitting on Alice’s side of the booth with a furtive look at me.
As we waited for Alma to return with our big breakfast, in a low voice, with periodic looks all around, Alice told him everything. She talked about the kidnapping (during which his lips pressed together so much they disappeared completely), staying at my place (his eyes narrowed to match), our bonding (he scratched at his neck in a way that wasn’t completely unpromising), and, finally, the events of the past few days—how much I had proven myself, how much she cared for me, and, finally, what we were going to do.
“Keep running?” Gabriel yelped in disbelief, after which Alice whacked and shushed him.
Alma chose this opportune time to appear with our big breakfast, which, as it turned out, wasn’t that big at all.
“Aw, there’s another of y’all,” she said, but Gabriel shook his head.
“I’m just from another table. I’m fine.”
Alma gave a big nod to this and, thankfully, left.
As Alice and I dug in, Gabriel argued his case.
“Okay, you somehow lost it and fell for this dude—cool. But you’re going to keep running? Why? And for how long?”
Alice paused, swallowed, and then said, “He’ll go to jail, Gabe.”
Gabe shrugged.
“Doesn’t your dad have lawyers so good they could get Charles Manson out of jail?”
At this, a smile played on Alice’s face, but I shook my head.
“That’s only if her father actually liked me, which he never will.”
Take Me - A Bad Boy Steals a Bride Romance Page 10