by Jane Graves
She lay back against the pillow, tears coming to her eyes. Turning to gaze at the sunlight peeking in through the blinds, she wondered if this would be the last sunrise she’d see as a free woman. Then she glanced at the nightstand.
And saw the key.
She stared at it for several seconds, her heart going crazy. The key to the handcuffs lay only an arm’s length away.
She glanced back at John, who still lay sleeping.
In the next breath she realized what she had to do, and her heart turned somersaults.
Just like that moment out at the cabin when she’d spied John’s car keys on the kitchen counter, she knew she was looking at her only means of escape. And she had to take advantage of it now, before any more sunlight spilled through the window and woke him up.
She slid the key off the nightstand, turned back over, and waited, clutching it in her fist. Still John slept.
She looked quickly around the room and spied her jeans and sweatshirt. In her mind, she mapped out the shortest route to grab each piece of clothing. Her strategy in place, she slid the key into the lock and turned it. The resultant click sounded like an explosion to her ears, but John kept on sleeping. Slowly, slowly she pulled the cuff away from her wrist, her heart beating like a jackhammer.
She started to lay the cuff down on the pillow beside his wrist, when he stirred beside her.
No, no, no...
He shifted, turning his head on the pillow until he was facing right toward her. His eyelids fluttered. She gripped the handcuff, frozen with panic. He was waking up. She wasn’t going to make it. He was going to see her trying to escape.
John blinked. Still groggy, he didn’t focus on her right away. In a mindless rush, she did the only thing she could think to do. She wrapped the handcuff she held around the spindle of the headboard and clicked it shut.
At the sound of that tiny click, John’s eyes flew wide open. He lunged for her, but she was quicker, scrambling naked out of the bed and backing against the dresser. He hit the end of the cuff, swinging his other arm in a wide arc, trying to intercept her. He missed.
“Renee! Get back here!”
She quickly scooped up her jeans and sweatshirt and held them up in front of her. He eyed the handcuffs with total disbelief, then gave them several hard yanks. When they didn’t budge, he whipped back around.
“Renee. You can’t leave. It won’t solve anything!”
“Yes, it will! It’ll keep me out of prison!”
“You’ll be running forever. Is that what you want?”
“If it means I won’t go to prison, then yes! That’s what I want!”
He bowed his head in frustration, then snapped it back up again. “Look. You’ve got a chance of getting out of this if we can just hunt up a little more evidence in your favor.”
“But you won’t help me. Not anymore. Not when you think I’m guilty.”
“I never said that!”
“No. You let your handcuffs do the talking for you.”
John held up his palm. “I know you’re scared, sweetheart. But I told you I’d help you, and I will.”
“You think I’m guilty! You wouldn’t have handcuffed me last night if you didn’t!”
“That’s not true! Damn it, Renee! Will you listen to me?” “I have to go.”
She wiggled into her jeans, sucked in hard and zipped them, then put on her sweatshirt. She grabbed the car keys out of his jeans.
“Renee. You’re not going to go to prison. Not if I can help it. Unlock me, and we’ll talk about it.”
She started for the door.
“Renee! Stop!”
She turned back, hating the indecision she felt when she knew this was the only thing she could do, hating the fact that he was sitting there so gorgeously naked, a life-size reminder of how wonderful last night had been. She knew she was doing the right thing, but that didn’t stop the tears from forming behind her eyes or a feeling of intense regret from welling up inside her that threatened to tear her apart.
“No, John,” she said, her voice quavering. “It’s better this way. For both of us. You don’t have to make a decision about taking me to jail. It’s out of your hands. You can blame me for escaping, and your conscience will be clear.”
“Damn it, Renee! Don’t do this!”
She wanted to stay. Desperately. She was right on the verge of believing every word he was telling her, because she had absolutely nothing else to believe in. But she couldn’t. The handcuff she’d worn last night said he didn’t trust that she was innocent, no matter how much he argued to the contrary.
If only she could go back to those few precious moments they’d spent together last night, when the rest of the world had disappeared and he’d shown her just how incredible lovemaking could be. She’d never known. She’d never even had a clue it could be like that. And all she’d wanted afterward was to fall asleep next to him, then wake up this morning by his side and have him tell her one more time that he believed in her and he was going to help her, and that maybe, just maybe, her whole life wasn’t going to hell.
Then he’d destroyed it all by clamping that cuff onto her wrist.
“I won’t leave you here like this,” she told him. “I’ll call Sandy later and tell her to come over.”
John closed his eyes. “Oh, that’s just great.”
“I’ll tell her we had a fight or something, and that I got so mad I handcuffed you there and left. She’ll believe it.”
“No, she won’t. She likes you, Renee. She won’t believe—”
“I’ll make her believe it. And I’m sorry about your car, but I’m going to have to take it. I know that makes me a car thief, but I don’t have any choice. I’ll get it back to you soon, though. Somehow. I promise.”
She started out the door.
“Renee.”
This time his voice was soft, pleading, reaching right inside her and wrapping around her heart. She stopped, her back to him, her hand on the door frame, and wished to God this could have ended any other way.
“Didn’t last night mean anything to you?” he said.
Don’t do this to me, she begged him silently, tears starting down her cheeks. Just let me go and forget you ever knew me.
She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, then turned and met his eyes.
“It meant everything to me, John. I just wish it had meant something to you.”
She walked out of the room. She heard him curse loudly and bang his fist against the headboard. She flinched hard at the sound, stopping to put her hand against the wall because she wasn’t sure her knees were going to hold her up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she collected herself again and grabbed John’s car keys off the kitchen counter, laying the handcuff key in their place.
She had to get to Paula’s apartment, borrow some money, then get the hell out of town.
Chapter 15
Twenty minutes later, Renee pulled into the parking lot of Timberlake Apartments. As she drove down the east side of the complex, she remembered how excited she’d been the day she moved in. It had been such a step up from the vermin-infested rat hole she’d just moved out of, the only place she’d been able to afford at age eighteen on the meager salary and tips she earned at Denny’s. This apartment had a built-in microwave and mini-blinds and carpet with no stains, and even though the other tenants weren’t the cream of society, at least they weren’t trying to sell her drugs in the lobby or throwing up in the hall.
Now, six years later, she could see that it really wasn’t the palace it had felt like back then—the parking lot was potholed, the trim needed paint, and the awnings along the front of the complex were tattered and faded. But still she loved it, because it had been the first tangible proof she’d ever had that hard work paid off.
But as of today, she’d never be coming back here again.
She parked John’s car as close to Paula’s apartment as she could, then checked the area for any signs of life. Fortunately, the only
activity she saw was a stray cat peeking out from behind a shrub and a flock of starlings chirping in the branches of a nearby live oak tree.
She got out of the car, slipped through the lobby door, and trotted up the back stairs. She knocked softly on 214, praying that Paula was home, because she had no idea what she was going to do if she wasn’t.
Finally, after so much time had passed that Renee had almost given up hope, Paula opened the door. The moment she saw Renee, her sleepy eyes snapped open wide.
“Renee!”
They fell into each other’s arms, hugging the breath out of each other. Then Paula took her by the shoulders. “You should be in New Orleans by now! What happened?”
Renee shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“No! You have to tell me. I’ve been so worried about you. I have to know what’s been going on.”
Renee sat down and gave Paula the Reader’s Digest version of what had happened since they’d last talked, when Renee had been on John’s phone, sitting in that McDonald’s drive-through. Paula’s eyes grew bigger and bigger as the story progressed, especially when she told her about John taking her to his house. Renee related the story as matter-of-factly as she could, leaving out the part about how John had made love to her and then proceeded to slice her heart into ribbons. That wasn’t an issue now. It was over, and she refused to think about it anymore.
“Wait a minute,” Paula said. “You left this guy handcuffed to his bed?”
“I had to. He would have ended up taking me to jail. You know where I’m coming from, Paula. I couldn’t let him do that.”
“Are you sure he won’t help you anymore?”
Renee felt a twinge of uncertainty, and for a split second she pictured herself going back to him, slipping into his arms, and feeling warm and safe all over again....
No. That was impossible. He didn’t believe her. Not anymore. Her only chance of staying out of jail was to get out of town.
“I’m sure,” she told Paula. “But you can help me. I need money. I don’t have my purse, my credit cards—nothing.”
“Of course! I think I’ve got at least a few hundred dollars.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter, pulled out her wallet, and fished through it, looking confused. “I thought I had more than this—oh! I forgot! I paid for groceries with cash. I’ve only got about thirty dollars!”
Renee slumped with disappointment. She was going to need a lot more than that.
“Renee?”
Renee spun around, and her heart leaped crazily. Tom was standing in the doorway between the hall and the living room.
She turned back to Paula. “You didn’t tell me Tom was here!”
“Now, calm down,” Paula said. “He won’t tell anyone you’re here.”
Tom ventured into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. He had a drowsy, quizzical look on his face, his surfer-boy blond hair standing up Don King-style on top of his head, making him seem even taller than his usual six feet.
“We need to get some money together for Renee so she can get out of town,” Paula told Tom.
“What’s she doing in town?”
“That’s none of your business,” Renee said sharply, shooting Paula the evil eye so she might actually consider not telling him the whole ugly story.
“Hey, take it easy, will you?” Tom said. “It’s just that I thought you’d be in New Orleans by now.”
Renee let out an exasperated sigh. Why had Paula told Tom her destination? The more people who knew, the more danger she’d be in.
“Renee, it’s okay,” Paula repeated. “Tom, do you have any money with you right now? Anything at all?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe a few bucks.”
“Do you mind loaning it to Renee?”
“Sure. I’ll see what I’ve got.”
Tom retrieved his wallet, and it was no surprise to Renee when he produced a paltry nine dollars. Paula gave him an approving smile, as if it had been nine hundred dollars he’d handed over.
As Renee took the cash, Tom sighed with disappointment. “I’m sorry it’s not more,” he said, and for a moment Renee believed he really would have given her nine hundred if only he’d had it.
“Renee?”
When she heard yet another voice behind her, Renee wheeled around, and her jaw dropped when she saw who was standing there.
“Steve!” Paula said. “What are you doing here?”
“The movie ran pretty late, and you’ve got a spare bedroom. I didn’t think you’d mind.” He turned to Renee. “Shouldn’t you be in New Orleans by now?”
Renee shot Paula a look of total exasperation. “Is there anybody who doesn’t know where I was going?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Steve asked. “Tell the cops?”
Renee wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t. Especially after that little matter of her knee in his groin.
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Paula told Renee, then turned to Steve. “Renee needs money. Do you have any?”
“Sorry. I’m all tapped out.”
Renee let out a breath of disgust. “What’s the matter? Did you pick the wrong horse last night and lose everything but the fillings in your teeth?”
Steve actually got a hurt look on his face, though it was hard to tell through all the cuts and bruises. It wasn’t the first time Renee had seen him looking like that. Bar fights again, no doubt. When was he ever going to get a real job?
“Look,” Steve said. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure here, but do you have to be that way? I really would like to help you. I just don’t have any money on me right now.”
To Renee’s surprise, he sounded absolutely sincere, and she felt a sudden flash of guilt. Both he and Tom were being nice to her when she needed help, and all she’d done was snap at them. Right now she could use all the friends she could get.
Renee let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just...I just can’t believe I’m in this mess.”
“I can’t believe it, either,” Steve said. “If only I’d seen you sooner on that night, I could have been your alibi and you’d never have gotten arrested in the first place.”
She was surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “There’s nothing we can do about that now.”
“If it ever conies down to it, I’ll testify for you. You know I will.”
“It wouldn’t do any good, Steve. But...thanks.”
“Hey! What the hell is she doing here?”
Renee whipped around once again to see a cheap-looking woman standing in the doorway. A faint shadow of mascara ringed her eyes, and her chemically altered blond hair was scattered over her head like a Halloween fright wig.
Rhonda.
This couldn’t be happening. That hallway of Paula’s was like one of those little cars at the circus that clowns keep piling out of—just when you thought another one couldn’t possibly be in there, out he came.
Rhonda flounced into the room wearing nothing but a midriff T-shirt, a pair of bikini underwear, and a hateful sneer. Renee slumped back onto the sofa, wishing she had a handful of aspirin and a good, stiff drink. “Is there anyone left on Earth who doesn’t know I’m here?”
“Renee, it’s okay,” Paula said. “We’re all your friends. We know you didn’t do it.”
“I’m not so sure she didn’t.”
Four pairs of angry eyes turned on Rhonda.
“Well, I’m not! I mean, the evidence said she did it. Who are we to think otherwise?”
“Rhonda!” Steve said.
She thrust her chin in the air. “I’m entitled to my opinion.” She turned to Renee. “And why aren’t you in New Orleans, anyway?”
Renee buried her face in her hands, her exasperation hitting an all-time high. She might as well pass out United States maps with her picture stuck to it and a big red circle around New Orleans.
“I mean, if you’re gonna be on the run, you need to do a better job of it th
an this.”
“Shut up, Rhonda,” Steve said.
“She makes a lousy fugitive, don’t you think?”
“I said shut up!”
Rhonda’s eyes narrowed with anger. “I should have known you’d take up for her.” She spun around and stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
“I’m sorry, Renee,” Steve said weakly. “Rhonda’s really not all that bad. She’s just a little jealous.”
They all looked at each other in a way that said Steve had understated both issues. Rhonda was a lot jealous, and she really was all that bad.
“She thinks Steve is still in love with you,” Paula explained. “That’s ridiculous,” Renee said, but when she glanced at Steve, his expression said maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
“That night of the robbery,” he said. “If only you’d have stayed to talk to me, none of this would have happened.” What he really meant was if only you’d given in to me. But she refused to have any regrets about that. Steve had been pushy and obnoxious that night, and keeping her distance from him had been the right thing to do. It was just too bad that it had to make everything else turn out wrong.
“Steve, I really don’t want to discuss that.”
“I just wanted you to know how I feel. After all, I may never see you again.”
She’d assumed that Steve would never forgive her for planting her knee in his groin. But here he was acting as if none of that mattered, even offering to testify on her behalf, and it made tears come to her eyes. Not that she’d ever want Steve again, not like that, but she was glad to feel some of the old animosity fade away. Maybe she was even wrong about Tom. He seemed to make Paula happy, and wasn’t that the most important thing?
Now, Rhonda was another story. For the rest of eternity, she intended to remember her for exactly what she was—a sleazy blond drug-addicted bimbo.
“Wait a minute!” Paula said. “What am I thinking? I can get money from an ATM!” She grabbed Renee’s arm. “I’ll go there with you right now. It’s too early for the bank to be open, but I’ll squeeze all the money I can out of the machine. It should let me have five hundred, at least.”