RIP ME: A Dark Romance

by Naomi West

  "Hell," muttered Archer, glancing back.

  I did the same, praying as hard as I could that I would not see what I was so afraid of seeing. But, even before I could see clearly, I had a hunch that I knew what I would see. I had had one of the best nights of my life, but a girl could only be that lucky for so long before the universe felt the need to balance it out with some equally bad luck. It wasn't just any cop on our tail. It was my dad.

  "You can outrun him, right?" I asked Archer, struggling to be heard above the engine. "Bikes are faster than cars, yeah?"

  "Yeah," Archer replied through gritted teeth. "But not safer."

  He didn't have to say it. I knew what he meant. If he had been on his own, then he would have outrun them. He was happy enough to risk his own life. But he would not risk mine. The irony was that, if Dad had known who he was pursuing, he probably would have pulled back too, not wanting to put me in danger. But he was tailing a speeding bike with no idea that it was his disobedient daughter on the back. And if he caught us, then prison was the best-case scenario for Archer. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there was no telling what might happen to a biker, caught with the sheriff's daughter. Accidents happen.

  "What are we going to do?"

  "We're going to hide."

  "Where?" There was nothing to hide behind out here in the wilds.

  "We're not far from town."

  I hadn't really noticed where we were, at first too caught up in enjoying myself, then in the terror of pursuit, but I saw now he was right. At this speed, we were only minutes from town, where there were plenty of places to hide. If we were lucky, then Archer could keep his liberty, and Dad would never know that I had gone behind his back again.

  But, then again, if he knew ...

  I dismissed the thought from my mind almost as soon as it came to me. I wanted to protect Archer, but if I could avoid hurting my father, then I would. I wasn't ready to make that sacrifice just yet.

  We hit town, and I thanked God that this was a quiet town where the streets were empty at night. There were no pedestrians to avoid and no other cars to weave around. Though, of course, that also meant that Dad could stay close.

  "Where is he?" Archer asked, his eyes glued to the road.

  I glanced back, trying to keep my face hidden. "Just reaching the intersection."

  "Right."

  Without warning, Archer pulled the bike left, and we hurtled down a narrow alleyway. I bit my lip to stop myself crying out in fear. I wasn't at all sure what Archer had in mind here. Dad might not be able to follow us, but he could meet as at the far end and might even be able to cut us off, as Archer had been forced to slow down in this narrow passage.

  "Whoa!" This time I did cry out as Archer, once again, took me by surprise, turning right, not into another alleyway, but down a slope into the loading bay of a warehouse.

  "Come on.” He was off the bike as soon as it stopped.

  "Where are we?"

  "This place has been abandoned for years," Archer explained. "It's condemned as unsafe, but the town never seems to have the budget to destroy it. It's a useful one to know about."

  We ran through empty, dusty rooms, our footsteps echoing loudly.

  "Problem is," Archer continued, "that because it's a useful place to know about, I'm betting your dad does know about it. The man's no fool. Cutting through here won't buy us long, and hiding here, we'd just be waiting to be caught."

  "Then what's the plan?" I asked, as we emerged on the other side of the building.

  "I need a car."

  I watched as Archer snatched up a half brick from the ground and used it to smash the window of a parked car. He got in and set to work hotwiring it.

  "Can you make it home from here all right?"

  "What?" I asked, not quite understanding.

  "He'll keep chasing me. That should give you a chance to make yourself scarce. Get yourself home, and he'll be none the wiser."

  "What?"

  Archer stopped what he was doing to look at me. "Are you really not understanding what I'm saying?"

  "You think I'm going to leave you now?" I asked. After what had passed between us tonight, he surely couldn't imagine that.

  "I know you are."

  I shook my head. "The hell I am."

  The car's engine coughed into life, and Archer looked back at me. "I don't have time to argue with you on this, Cassidy."

  "Good."

  "Now, get yourself hidden. I need your dad to find me, and then he can follow me while you get away."

  "No."

  I saw his expression change as worry entered it. He stopped issuing commands and spoke to me more earnestly. "Cass, if you come with me now, then that's it. I don't want to drag you into this life. I won't do it. You can't expect me to."

  "And you can't expect me to leave you to my dad. He's out for your blood, and you know it. He'd like nothing more than to get you into a high-speed chase, ending in a shoot-out. You're giving him the excuse he needs, and damn it, Archer, I don't want to see either of you hurt!"

  Archer slammed the car door but, before he could leave, I jumped in beside him.

  "Get out!"

  "No!"

  Suddenly headlights cut in on our argument. Dad had found us.

  "Get down!" Archer hissed, gunning the engine.

  But I didn't. I knew what I had to do now, however much I didn't want to do it. It was in my power to protect Archer from my dad, and, indeed, to protect Dad from him (who knew how the chase might end). All I had to do was let Dad see that I was with him.

  For a split second as the two cars passed each other, I caught sight of Dad, and one look at his face told me that he had seen me too. There was anguish in his features. It was the face of a man who knew that he had lost his daughter. It was a horrible sight and a gut-wrenching one for me to witness. It was what I had been hoping to avoid throughout this chase. I hadn't wanted to break Dad's heart.

  But I also couldn't bear to see Archer in jail, or worse. With legal means exhausted, knowing what he knew about Archer and me, I wasn't sure where Dad would draw the line. He was a man who had lived his life by the letter of the law, and that law had let him down. He had done everything right and had wound up with a daughter who had sex with thugs. When a man who has lived all his life in a box is suddenly released from that restriction, then who knows what he may do? A lifetime of repression and obedience was breaking free, as his anger at Archer peaked. All because of me.

  I didn't want to hurt either of them. I wanted to protect them both. But circumstances and bad luck had combined with my own careless stupidity to conspire against that. Only by hurting Dad could I save Archer, and the only consolation I had was that I might also be saving Dad from himself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Archer

  "What in the hell did you do that for?!" I was furious. Cassidy had let her father see her. More than that, she had made damn sure that he would see her. Was she trying to get me into still deeper shit than I was already in? Or, did she just hate her father so much that she was determined to give him a coronary? I didn't know, but I was not going to let her get away with it.

  Then I looked in the rearview mirror. "He's not following us."

  "Of course he's not." Cassidy sounded strangely numb, certainly not happy. "He'd happily engage you in a high-speed pursuit, and, if you accidentally killed yourself, so much the better. But there's no way he's going to risk me getting hurt."

  "How does he know I won't hurt you?" I asked, still annoyed, but somewhat mollified.

  "He may not like us being together, but he knows I can take care of myself. Besides, I think he knows that you're not out to hurt me."

  That was probably true. All of it. She had saved my neck by forcing herself into the car and then letting her dad know that she was there. Still, I sat there quietly fuming. I was partly angry because she was right, and there are few things more annoying to a man used to being in charge than having some girl prove him wrong.
We know it's petty, and we're not proud of it, but there it is. The other reason I was still angry was that this was not what I had wanted. I would rather have been caught and taken the full force of whatever Ben Dupont had to offer, than be in this situation. The one thing that I had set out to avoid had happened: Cassidy was now part of my world, a fugitive on the run from the law. How the hell had I let this happen? Why the hell had she insisted that this happen?

  "Are you angry with me?" Cassidy asked.

  "Of course I am!"

  "I saved your life!"

  "I'd have been fine," I scoffed, with more confidence than I deserved. "I've been in more police chases than I can remember, and I'm still walking. I could have lost him without you sticking your nose in."

  "I don't care how many chases you've been in. None of them were with my dad."

  Considering how much she had apparently despised her dad and her upbringing, Cassidy was amazingly protective of her old man. She was a complex little package where family was concerned. There was a lot going on beneath the surface. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but had felt torn and had sided with me, leaving her no choice but to hurt him. Maybe she was regretting that now, or, at the very least, feeling guilty about it.

  I should have been sensitive to that, but I was too angry right now. "You should have gone home when you had the chance. You've ruined your life and upset your dad, so now he's more pissed at me than ever."

  "I just thought ..."

  "That's the one thing you didn't do. How many times do I have to tell you that we can’t work? There's no future. There's nothing. And you still do something stupid like this."

  Cassidy made no reply.

  I was too angry to think about what I was saying and so, finally, had the good sense to shut up. I needed to get off the road. I needed to stop running for long enough to be able to think clearly. If nothing else, Cassidy's actions had made that a viable possibility. For the moment, at least, there were no police on my trail, and I had the option of finding an out-of-the-way motel and getting my plans straight.

  "I know a place where we can spend the night," I said, trying to be a little conciliatory after shouting at her and blaming her.

  "Okay." I wasn't sure if she was mad at me, or upset, or if it had just been a long night.

  It had been a good night, too, at the start. There was no getting around that. If only I had taken her straight home. If only ...

  I cut off the train of thought before it could go any further. A man can waste his life leafing through a list of regrets.

  We reached an out-of-the-way motel as the sun was beginning to rise, and I booked us into a room. The place was in the middle of nowhere and on a direct route between nowhere and nowhere else. I often thought it was only used by criminals on the run, looking for a place to hide, and the only reason the police didn't raid it on a weekly basis was because they never knew who or what they might find when they got there. Contrary to what some might say, there is loyalty amongst thieves where cops are concerned.

  As soon as we were in our room, and I had closed the door, I spoke.

  "You have to go home."

  Cassidy rounded on me. "What? Are you crazy? I mean, it was a dumb idea back in town. Now it's practically suicide."

  "Your father won't hurt you."

  "Not for me, you idiot, for you! I'm the only thing keeping you safe. As long as I'm with you, you're not going to die mysteriously during a police shoot-out."

  "That doesn't matter." I wasn't going to tell her she was wrong, because she was smarter than that. We both knew she was right, but as far as I was concerned, the time had passed for taking such things into account. It was nice that she wanted to save me. It meant a lot to me that I mattered to her (not that I would tell her that). But matters had gone in a bad direction fast. The only thing that mattered to me now was getting Cassidy back to the safety of her family and trying to undo as much as possible of the bad I had done. It wouldn't be easy, but I was determined to try, and I wasn't going to let her whining stop me. I tried to master my temper. Truthfully I didn't have a lot of reason to be angry at her and, besides, shouting didn't seem to have much effect.

  "Look, I'm not going to deny that there is something between us. After tonight, that would be pretty stupid. And I'm not going to deny that, perhaps in other circumstances, it might have proved to be something great. But these are the circumstances we have, and it's time to stop living in a dream world. We had our moment, and it was wonderful, but it's over. It's done. We have to stop pretending to ourselves that this could ever be anything. The best place for you is back with your family. Your dad obviously cares about you, or he wouldn't have done all he's done. He doesn't want you to wind up with someone like me, and he's absolutely right about that. You shouldn't. He and I agree on that. I know I shouldn't have shouted at you in the car, and I'm sorry for that. I still think you did the wrong thing, but I know you did what you did to protect me, and I am grateful to you. But the fact is, the immediate danger is gone now. I know you think you're protecting me by sticking around and that your father won't come for me if we're together, but I'm not so sure any more. I think maybe he's now more likely to come after me. After all, I've got his daughter. So, it's not just better for you that you go home, it's better for me too. What do you say?"

  "No."

  Given what a long and impassioned speech I had made, I felt like she could have said a little more than just no. "Why not?"

  "Because most of what you just said is a total crock."

  My temper flared again. I had tried to be diplomatic, but here was Cassidy acting like a kid again. "Is that right?"

  "You're damn right, it's right!" She snapped. "We are safer sticking together. Both of us."

  "I'll take my chances. And while your dad may be angry, I think you'll come through it."

  "We're all that we have! I have you, and you have me. We're the only ones we can trust or turn to."

  I shook my head. "You have a family. A father, and a sister. And it's time you got back to them."

  Cassidy's eyes narrowed, and she spoke with more venom than I would have imagined her capable of. "If I go home now, when my father is done yelling at me, then he will sit me down and interrogate me for every detail of your life. He'll want to know every little thing, and you know what? I'll probably tell him. Because everybody cracks, eventually, and because he's my dad, and whatever you think, I do care about him very much. And because you're being a dick, so why shouldn't I tell him every damn thing I know?!"

  I shrugged. "Then tell him. Sooner or later, some cop is going to catch up to me. Why not your dad? I had a good run. Thirteen years. But people in my profession don't retire. We end up behind bars, or on a mortician's slab. That's how it goes. Tell him."

  "What about Joe? What about Fran?"

  I stiffened at her words. "What about them?"

  "Do you think my dad knows their names? Knows how involved they are in your organization? I bet he thinks Fran is just a bar owner who buys from you and pays protection, but we both know she's much more than that. He'll ask me. And I'll tell him."

  I'd never struck a woman in my life, and I reserved a special hatred for the men who did. But right at that moment, I was sorely tempted to slap Cassidy right across her face for dragging my friends into this.

  "Are you threatening me?"

  "I'm telling you why we need to stick together."

  "You're telling me that you're going to throw good people under the bus, just so you can try to keep hold of me." I leaned in closer to her. "You think that's what I look for in a woman?"

  "I just don't want to lose you!" As she blurted the words out, the hard facade of her face cracked, and she burst into tears. I took her in my arms and comforted her. Cassidy Dupont was such a damn fine liar and actress that it could be hard to tell when you were talking to the girl herself. I had already seen her play the sexy, bad-girl temptress, and now I had seen the hard-as-nails bitch. Neither of them represented the real gir
l. I wondered what other characters she had in her repertoire. I also wondered at what age, and for what reason, she had decided that playing a part was the best way to get what she wanted. Maybe she hadn't had an upbringing that compared to mine, but life with the sheriff must have had its challenges.

  "I'm sorry," she sobbed into my shirt.

  "Don't worry," I chided.

  "I wouldn't really have said anything about you. Or Fran or Joe. You believe me, don't you?"

  "Of course I do." And I did. I had already witnessed what this slightly crazy girl was willing to do for me, and how much she was willing to sacrifice. No way was she giving me up to Ben Dupont, or to anyone else for that matter. If the sheriff did 'interrogate' her (which I thought pretty unlikely), she was far more likely to just lie her ass off. That was, after all, what she did best.