Brightest As We Fall

by Cleo Peitsche

  Once the desired upgrades were completed, Jason had hired a property manager to deal with the mundane details of being a landlord. But all rental applications were handled by Jason’s corporation, and he’d rented one of the units to himself.

  “Tell me,” DeeAnn said. “What was your disguise?”

  “Baseball hat, weird glasses, sloppy fashion sense, always smoking. We’re here, by the way.” And he’d managed to distract her from her worries.

  DeeAnn peered up at the three-story building. “It’s not what I expected. It’s so… modern.”

  “You’re expecting crappy motels. We’re not doing that tonight.”

  “Being predictable will get us caught,” DeeAnn murmured.

  Jason unlocked the front door, and they proceeded to the elevator at the end of the hallway. The sign taped over the buttons read: Out of Service. Use Front Elevator.

  A key was required to access the top floor, which wasn’t even an option on the panel. If someone took the front elevator to the third floor, they would find the hallway shortened by a utility closet.

  The doors opened and they stepped off.

  “There’s only one apartment up here?” DeeAnn asked, looking around in confusion.

  “Yes and no.” Jason tapped the code into the electronic door system. It was the only unit in the building that had one. Setting all this up had taken half of his portion of the money. Even then, the building was mortgaged. Jason had two years of payments in the linked account. That was twenty-four months of deductions. Twenty-four months to sell or otherwise transfer ownership if things got too complicated.

  He prayed that things weren’t too complicated. Having a place where he and DeeAnn could always hide, it mattered. And the building felt like a good investment to him; there had been ten times as many applicants as units, and he wasn’t letting them go cheap, either. Maybe, in five years, he’d be able to sell the building for a profit. His lawyer, an expensive but obliging and discreet man, had been impressed by the find.

  “It’s nicer in the daylight,” Jason said apologetically as he switched on the light beside the door. If he’d come by his money honestly, he’d have installed motion detector lights. But a man who’d run off with stolen cash sometimes needed to linger in the shadows.

  “Wow,” DeeAnn said after peering into the master bedroom. “I expected a mattress on the floor and a thermos to pee in. With some artwork, this could be a real home.”

  “It’s not flashy, but it’s solid.”

  DeeAnn investigated the kitchen. “I’ll wash everything down tomorrow to clean off the manufacturing chemicals.” She opened cabinets. “Food, water, beer, wine, hard liquor… I see your priorities are in order.”

  “Hey, I’ve got toothpaste and toilet paper in the bathroom,” Jason said, opening first the bathroom door and then a cabinet. “First aid, bandages, cold medicine. And hundreds of movies on the local server.”

  DeeAnn looked down as they returned to the hallway. “This carpeting is new, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I know it’s not pretty, but it’s quiet. No one will know we’re here.” Feeling awkward, he continued the tour. “Weight room, treadmill, second bathroom.”

  They’d gone through the whole apartment and were again in the master bedroom. DeeAnn made noises of approval as she looked over his work, but Jason knew she wasn’t much into houses. The stability she’d lost tonight couldn’t be replaced by pretty renovations and high-end appliances.

  He tried to see it through her eyes. Was the dark-blue color scheme too masculine? Should he have chosen lighter colors, a floral-patterned comforter instead of solid gray? Were the blocky lamps, the pragmatic furniture, too practical?

  At the time, he’d thought it was acceptable, but now it looked like a businessman’s hotel room. Quality, but bland. There was a fine line between dignified and unimaginative.

  “Art on the walls would help.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Confession. I don’t rent this place, or rather, I’m paying rent to myself. Because I own it. The whole building, actually. I was going to bring you next month. After getting new stairs to the roof garden installed. Once everything was ready.”

  “Wow,” DeeAnn said, her pretty amber eyes turning toward him. She nibbled on her lower lip, still processing what he’d told her. “This is… kinda big news, right? But smart. Really smart.”

  “Don’t give me too much credit. The garden was already there.” He smiled, but she didn’t seem to notice his weak joke.

  “I never would have thought to do this, and if you’d suggested it, I’d have said it was too much trouble and expense for something we’d never use.” She tilted her head. “How long can we stay here?”

  Jason looked around. “Indefinitely, really. But I was serious about us having to leave town.”

  “I don’t understand. If we can stay here, if it’s safe here…”

  “It’s safe, but it’s…” He spread his arms wide. “It’s big, but not big enough. Staying here is safer than having to face down FBI agents or the Jack Rebels, but it’s really for emergencies.”

  “This isn’t an emergency?” Her expression said she couldn’t imagine things being much worse. Jason could, though. He could imagine nightmares, in detail.

  Because once, he’d been the one dealing out the nightmares.

  “We don’t actually know that. And I don’t want to be locked away for weeks or months unless it’s necessary. We come here when we can’t go anywhere else. When we need to disappear for six months, a year. When nowhere is safe.”

  DeeAnn nodded slowly.

  “You would rather stay,” Jason said. He hadn’t expected this. Why wouldn’t she want to get as far away from San Diego as possible?

  “Yeah,” DeeAnn said.

  Guilt knifed into Jason’s heart. “You remember the deal we made the night of the shootout?”

  “Sure.” DeeAnn shrugged off her backpack and set it on the blocky chair beside the door. “Why?”

  “Do you remember what I promised you? To set you up. Living expenses for a few years and your education covered. So that you could have the life you want.”

  Fire lit DeeAnn’s eyes. She stepped close to him, her gaze fierce. “No. We will never do that. No regrets. I would rather be on the run with you than living in a palace in Manhattan.”

  Sure, she felt that way now, but in a year, two years, a decade? Jason knew if he brought that up, she’d dig in her heels. He didn’t want to start a fight.

  “How about you choose where we go next,” he said instead. “While you’re thinking about that, do you want tea or wine? Or something stronger?”

  “Much stronger. Like hot chocolate.” She followed him into the living room/dining room/kitchen. In the morning, light from the windows and skylights would flood the rooms with sun. Now, though, the space felt cold.

  Or maybe he felt cold.

  Jason prepared a hot chocolate and took a beer for himself. DeeAnn had installed herself on the plush sofa, a blanket across her lap. She was thumbing through one of the coffee table books.

  “It’s weird, not having to find a place that suits all three of us,” she said, setting the book aside and accepting the mug. “How do you feel about camping?”

  “You want to go camping?” Jason dropped onto the couch beside her and pulled DeeAnn’s legs over his.

  “Yes. We don’t want to be predictable, right? It’s the opposite of how we’ve been living. I was thinking national parks, the Grand Canyon, maybe. Is that silly?”

  “The Grand Canyon is on my bucket list.” Jason nodded as the idea grew on him.

  They planned their trip, discussed the pros and cons of buying a motorhome.

  “I always wondered,” Jason said, popping open a second beer several minutes later. “You could have left Rhodell Heights instead of paying off your debt.”

  DeeAnn tilted her head. “That’s random.”

  “Don’t claim you stayed because repaying your debts is morally right.
I told you the truth about Auntie Love and the loan sharks. Taking advantage of you.”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t know it then. I did feel obligated. But also… You have to understand that I’d never been anywhere else. Rhodell Heights was all I knew.”

  Jason almost pointed out that for some people, not having traveled was reason enough to leave.

  In bed, Jason pulled DeeAnn into his arms, and he held her close, tugging the comforter up to her shoulders. It wasn’t about temperature, but about making sure she felt safe.

  The routine they’d developed in San Diego, and the sense of living a normal life, a free life, had been ripped away. From them both, yes, but DeeAnn wasn’t like him, and that part of her, the conventional part, needed to be protected.

  “What were you saying before?” DeeAnn worked her hand through the unbuttoned collar of his shirt and scratched her nails lightly against his chest.

  “What do you mean?”

  “About changing things up,” she said hesitantly, like she didn’t really want to know.

  “It’s late. We can talk about it tomorrow.” Or never.

  DeeAnn’s hand stilled. “I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me. And… You’re the only thing I have in this world. The only one I can count on. You have to trust me. That’s part of the deal.”

  “What deal?”

  “That we always tell the truth and accept each other fully.”

  “That’s easy. You’re perfect.”

  DeeAnn snorted. “I’m too fastidious, for starters. I worry too much about following the rules, and I interfere where I shouldn’t.”

  “Interesting,” Jason said. “Keep going. I wanna know what I’ve gotten myself into.”

  Laughing, she slapped his arm playfully, then snuggled close again. “I don’t have many regrets about the way things turned out. But I’ve got one. It’s that you keep part of yourself locked away from me. I want to know you, Jason.”

  “Who wants to know a psychopath?”

  Now DeeAnn sat up. She stared down at him. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what you said,” he pointed out lightly, and added a smile so she would know he wasn’t upset.

  Anguish twisted her pretty features. “I was freaking out. I… shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  Jason pushed up to sitting. “I love you,” he said. He cupped her face in his hands. “I would do anything for you, DeeAnn.”

  Sacrifice anything for your happiness.

  But he knew better than to say that aloud, and so he kissed her.

  When he pulled away, DeeAnn’s eyes were closed, her brow furrowed.

  “Hey,” he said. “It’s going to be all right.”

  She nodded, then opened her eyes.

  “Let’s talk about tomorrow,” Jason said. “After rush hour, I’ll go collect enough cash to float us for at least a year. I don’t think we’ll be on the move for that long, but I want to be prepared. Make sure you’re ready to leave at noon.”

  They settled back on the bed. Jason stroked DeeAnn’s hair and thought about Gary Parauda. Or whatever his real name was.

  It was possible that Parauda was working for the Jack Rebels. If so, he surely didn’t plan to bring Jason home alive. If he was working for the FBI, maybe there was a path to freedom. Something like…

  Witness protection.

  For Jason and for DeeAnn. The idea would have been laughable a year ago, but now… Now, it was their best chance.

  Tomorrow, he would look up Cindy’s law firm, call her, and gather information. Find out if his idea had legs. Then he’d talk it over with DeeAnn.

  Jason’s eyes closed. He needed to brush his teeth, change his clothes. It could wait a few minutes…

  He woke to sunlight across his face and DeeAnn asleep on his chest. A strange sensation stirred inside him. Pinning it down took a moment. Reluctance. He was reluctant to get up. To flee, yet again.

  “Are you awake?” DeeAnn asked, rolling bonelessly onto her back.

  “Technically,” he said through a yawn.

  “Suppose we go to Vegas for a day or two before the Grand Canyon?”

  Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “You? In Sin City?”

  “It’s a big city with tons of tourists coming and going. The perfect way to anonymously buy everything we need for camping.”

  “Including a Winnebago.” Nodding, Jason swung his legs out of bed. He’d slept all cramped up. Nothing a hard run on the treadmill wouldn’t fix.

  “Plus,” DeeAnn said, “Vegas could be fun.”

  “Do you have a fever? How many fingers am I holding up? Are you dying? Don’t die on me. DeeAnn, I love you!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I’m not that innocent.”

  “Woman, I know.” Jason shrugged out of yesterday’s clothes.

  “Besides… I think we should do one last fun thing together before we settle in the middle of nowhere,” DeeAnn explained. “The FBI isn’t looking for us in Bumfuck, NW.”

  Jason had pulled on shorts and socks, and now he searched his suitcase for a mesh running shirt. “Blame the lack of coffee, but what state is NW?”

  “Nowhere. NW.”

  “I don’t think people say that.”

  “They should.” DeeAnn pulled her legs into her chest and propped her chin on her knees. “We should go all-out,” she said. “Do something unexpected. Something neither of us has ever considered before… I’m guessing from your smile that you have ideas already. Should I be worried?”

  “Oh, I have an idea or two.” Jason knew just the thing, and Vegas was the perfect city for it.

  Chapter 44

  Jason and I are standing at the reception desk of an elegant hotel on the outskirts of Las Vegas. I never realized how close it is to San Diego.

  “It feels wrong,” Jason says to me.

  I wanted to go to a cheap motor lodge, and Jason wanted top luxury, with expensive mattresses and spa toiletries, and bathrobes so soft that the hotel pre-charges your credit card for them because they know you won’t be able to resist taking them home. Jason’s words, not mine.

  We started to argue, then Jason suggested this hotel as a compromise. I immediately wondered if that had been his mission all along.

  “What feels wrong?” I ask. The clerk is busy tapping on her keyboard, her fingers moving so fast that it seems she’s randomly hitting keys to appear busy.

  “Because we didn’t have to go to five hotels to find somewhere that takes dogs.”

  The clerk looks up. “We don’t allow pets.”

  “I know,” Jason says. “We kenneled our dog for this trip. I’m just not used to traveling without her.”

  “Aw. What kind of dog do you have?”

  “A teacup poodle. I’d show you photos of Princess Bubbles, but I promised my wife not to do that anymore.” He shrugs, and he’s so fucking cute that the clerk practically melts in front of me.

  Jason is an excellent liar. Given the lifestyle we’re currently leading, I think it’s more of a pro than a con.

  And I’m fine with that. The details of Jason’s past are appalling, but he’s opened his present to me.

  The future is ours to write together. With limitations, of course.

  Sometimes I play little mind games with myself. If I could have three million dollars, free and clear, but I wouldn’t have Jason, would I take that deal? Never.

  If someone gave me the chance to return all the money in exchange for our freedom, would I? Just show me where to sign.

  “Sweetie, could you dash out to the car and fetch my wallet?” Jason asks.

  Strange that he left it since hotels always require photo identification, but his wallet doesn’t have much in it. He’s already holding the emergency credit card that Anita set up months ago. Our cash is in the sturdy, brand-new backpack sitting on the floor between Jason’s feet.

  “Sure,” I say, puzzled.

  I locate the wallet in the well of the drive
r’s door. Usually Jason tosses it into the center console. I suppose the routines and efficiencies from before San Diego have been eroded.

  Jason meets me at the lobby door.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.

  “Nothing,” he says, and drops a kiss onto my forehead. “Turns out I had my license in my pocket. The elevators are this way.”

  “What about unloading the car?”

  “I’ll go back for the suitcases.” He passes an arm over my shoulders and steers me down the immaculate hallway.

  When I notice how plush the carpet is under my feet, I stop walking and look around.

  “I know what you’re up to,” I tell him. “And I’m not happy.”

  Jason’s face freezes, and he carefully searches my eyes with his. “What I’m up to?”

  “This hotel is nicer than you let on.” I gesture at the wall sconces and the huge vases of fresh flowers that line the corridor. “You sent me outside because you didn’t want me to know the cost.”

  He sighs. “Busted. It’s only one night. And I’m paying for it out of my half.”

  How can I argue with that? “Ok, but please, I don’t want to blow through half our savings in Vegas.”

  “Unless you have a gambling problem, we don’t have to worry about that,” Jason says easily. “Anyone looking for us will be checking cheap motels. We can’t stay at those anymore. We’ll save money with the motorhome, right?”

  I gnaw on my lip, then exhale and nod. He has a point.

  Jason and I haven’t yet talked about what it means, the crooked FBI agent showing up. We got away, and that’s what’s important. I do know he called AJ’s ex, but she didn’t answer. He says he’ll try Cindy again tomorrow.

  Normally I’d prefer he not contact anyone, but we can’t think about the future until we figure out what’s going on. Once Jason and I are settled somewhere safe, I’m going to call Anita on the secret phone she keeps in a gym locker. It’s one of the many contingency plans we all prepared for.

  As Anita once said, better to be paranoid and look like an ass-hat than to end up in the slammer or laid out on a morgue slab.