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Dirty Money

Page 22

by Ashley Bartlett


  “Grab the wheel.” I let go of the steering wheel.

  “Fuck.” Reese grabbed the wheel. “Are you sure you should be driving?”

  No. I wasn’t sure that I should be driving at all. But I didn’t tell her that. I peeled off my jacket and shirt. Then I took the wheel back.

  “What are you doing?” Ryan asked. I looked at him. He was shirtless.

  “Put on the shirt and tie. I’m wearing the sweatshirt and jacket. We need to look remotely presentable.”

  “Where are we going?” Reese wanted to know.

  “You’ll see.” Vito had GPS on his car. That I was sure of. But I had no idea if he had some sort of audio. Or if that was even possible. I was crazy paranoid right then. “Grab the wheel again.” Reese started steering while I pulled on the sweatshirt. I pulled up the hood.

  “Got it?” She asked.

  “Yeah. Did the hood cover all the blood?”

  “Umm.”

  “Is it that bad?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, get it off my face.”

  “How?”

  “You’re smart. Be resourceful.”

  Reese looked around, checked under her seat. Apparently, she didn’t find anything because she licked her hand and started rubbing my face.

  “Eww. Seriously?” Except she was rubbing rather forcefully, so it came out, “Ewww. Srrsslly?” In response, she spit in her hand and rubbed some more. I had never seen her spit. That was not the moment I wanted to experience it for the first time.

  “Your relationship just went to a whole new level,” Ryan said.

  “For real,” I said.

  “At this light, turn toward me,” Reese said.

  I did. I got some more spit.

  “Please tell me it’s off now.”

  “It’s off now.”

  “Here.” Ryan handed my suit jacket back over the seat. I shrugged it on.

  “Will you please tell us where we are going?” Reese asked as I turned down another street.

  “I’ve got a plan.” For Vito’s benefit, in case he actually was listening, I added, “We’re gonna get lost in the crowds.”

  I turned again. This street was busier. And, if I remembered correctly, filled with valet parking options.

  “That doesn’t sound like a great plan,” Reese noted. Smart girl.

  “It’ll work. Do you trust me?” I realized as I said it just how much I was really asking. It made me worry. Only for a second though.

  “Totally.” Ryan.

  “Yes.” Reese.

  “Good.” I pulled the car up at an empty valet. It looked promising. Two guys. Boys, really. And not that it was an absolute or anything, but they looked gay. Which hopefully meant they would help me out.

  “Hi, there,” Kid Number One greeted us.

  “Hey.” I got out and came around the car. The twins followed me. “Listen. I’ve got an odd request.”

  “Okay?”

  “See, my dad, he’s totally a douche.”

  “Douche,” Ryan echoed. I loved that boy. He agreed with me even when he didn’t know what was going on.

  “And he put a tracking device on my car.”

  “Oh, wow. That sucks,” Kid Number Two said.

  “For real. He doesn’t know I know, ya know? And I was hoping one of you could just drive it around a little. Park it somewhere far away.”

  “Oh, umm.” Kid One didn’t like that.

  I pulled out my money clip, pocketed the clip, and started counting fifties. “I don’t want you guys to get into any trouble. But I’d pay well. It’s totally worth it to throw my old man off.”

  Both kids nodded.

  “So, cab fare to get back, and thirty minutes of driving, plus tip.” I handed each kid a wad of bills. “And an extra”―I peeled off three more bills―“something for whoever does the actual driving.”

  “I’ll do it,” Kid Two offered.

  “For real?”

  “Yeah, slow night.”

  “Awesome. Oh, and for your discretion.” I gave them each another fifty.

  They obviously knew this was a little sketch. Ryan helped with that.

  “Oh, man.” He laughed. “Your dad’s gonna be piiisssssedd. Hey, guys. Do you mind parking it in Boystown? That’ll really get him.”

  “Uhh, yeah, sure,” Kid Two agreed.

  “Dude, good call.” I nudged Ryan.

  “What about the keys?”

  “Oh, just leave them under the seat. I’ve got another set.”

  “Okay. How will you know where it is?” Kid Two was smart.

  “I won’t. That’s the best part. I’ll tell my dad I was too drunk to drive so I took a cab home and he’ll have to admit he’s been tracking the car.”

  “He’s going to pull your tuition again. You do realize this, right?” Reese smirked.

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “So should I go?” the kid asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks, man. Serious.”

  He nodded and got in the car. Not a bad night for him really. As long as Vito didn’t catch him. But I thought the chances of that were slim. Then again…

  “Oh, hey,” I stuck my head in the window. “Be careful. Park it in a well-lit area, somewhere heavily populated. That’s what I always do.”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Thanks.”

  He drove off.

  “Are you guys staying around here?” Kid One asked.

  “Nah, man. You mind calling us a cab?”

  “Sure.”

  I was so damn smart.

  *

  “Why did you just have our cab driver drop us in the middle of a neighborhood?” Reese asked me. She started looking around. It was late. All the residents were locked up in their apartments. The trees cast shadows over everything. It was cloudy and cold. Not a night people would be wandering the streets.

  “Yeah, dude. You live around here? ’Cause they’re gonna check your apartment first thing,” Ryan said.

  “No. Just follow me.” We walked two blocks and turned into an alleyway.

  “I can’t walk this in these heels. I can’t even see,” Reese said.

  “I know, but it’s not much farther.” I tucked her hand into my elbow. “We’re just going to that garage.” I pointed to a nondescript beige garage door in line with five other scarred garage doors.

  “Really, where are we?” Ryan asked.

  “It’s my escape plan. One of the first things I did when I came here.”

  “And that is?” Reese.

  “Check it.” I squatted and entered the combination into the padlock. I slid open the door. A boring, dark blue, late-model Camry was parked inside.

  “A Toyota? Boring.” Ryan.

  “That’s the point. It blends.” I opened the driver’s door and got the keys from the visor. “I’ll pull it out so you guys can climb in. Just a sec.”

  They waited until I reversed out of the small space. Ryan closed the garage door. I gave him the padlock. He put it back on. Reese got in the passenger side. Ryan climbed in back. I drove sedately out to a main street.

  “The car is registered to Cooper Wells.”

  “The name on your fake passport?” Ryan asked.

  “Uh-huh. I had the passport hidden in the lining of my duffle bag. So Vito doesn’t know about that identity. I bought the car, registered it.”

  “Legally?” Reese asked.

  “Yeah, legally. In the trunk are some bags of clothes. Jeans and stuff. And provisions.”

  “What kind of provisions?”

  “I’ll show you in a minute.” I pulled into a gas station.

  “We have a full tank,” Reese pointed out.

  “We need ice.”

  “Ice?”

  “I have this all planned out, okay? Come on.” The twins reluctantly followed me inside the convenience store. “Road trip provisions,” I told them.

  Ryan immediately grabbed five bags of Cheetos. Then a twelve pack of Mou
ntain Dew. Reese went for the candy.

  “You still like the Tropical Starburst?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, you want Zebra Cakes?”

  “Already got like twenty,” Ryan said from the counter.

  “I’m getting water. And ice,” I said.

  “Could you be more boring?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes.” I stacked two big bags of ice on the counter with bottles of water. I’d learned in Mexico. Couldn’t have too much water on a road trip.

  “Can I get beer?” Ryan asked.

  “No,” Reese and I answered.

  “Cigarettes?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “No,” Reese said.

  “Oh, okay, no.”

  “Screw you. Two packs of the Wides,” he said to the guy behind the counter.

  “Anything else?” the guy asked.

  “Nope.” I gave him some cash and waited while he bagged the small shit.

  “All right, spill,” Reese demanded when we got outside.

  “I will. I will.” I opened the trunk. There was a cooler inside. I opened the cooler.

  “I love you,” Ryan said. He tried to pull out one of the Tupperware containers that lined the bottom.

  “Don’t touch.” I took the container of weed and set it back down. There were three handguns, a half-pound of weed, five thousand in cash, and a Taser, for good measure. All the items had their own Tupperware. I opened the bags of ice and dumped them on top. Then I put in half the water bottles and half the Mountain Dew.

  “You’re kind of brilliant,” Reese said.

  “I spent a lot of time sitting by myself staring at walls. So I had time to think it through. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait, we haven’t gotten our stuff from the hotel,” Reese said.

  “What stuff?”

  “Clothes. And stuff.”

  “How necessary? Because I guarantee they know where you are staying.”

  “Leave it,” Ryan said. He dug into one of the duffle bags. “Why are all these in my size?”

  “The black bag is clothes that fit you. Red bag is me. Blue bag is Reese. I was being an optimist.”

  Reese reached around Ryan to grab the blue bag. “I want to see what’s in here.”

  “Can it wait? I want to get on the road. Like two hours ago. We can stop in a motel to changes clothes later.”

  Reese wasn’t happy, but that’s what we did. By midnight, we had crossed our first state line. After that, Reese insisted we at least stop and change. I didn’t argue because my hair was still bloody and that was gross. They let me have the first shower. When we got back on the road, Ryan drove. After that, Reese did. Then Ryan again. Then I lost count. We got to Colorado early the next afternoon.

  I didn’t remember driving into Denver. I didn’t remember checking into the hotel. I vaguely remembered going into the business center and setting up an e-mail account at Yahoo. I used it to send two e-mails to two other recently set up accounts. The twins must have emptied the car and brought up our stuff, because I had absolutely no memory of that. I did remember, as I drifted to sleep, that, somehow, in that day of solid driving, I never mentioned to the twins that their stepfather was alive.

  When I woke up the next morning, I became aware of three things. The curtains weren’t shut all the way. The white slivers of light that were leaking through were blinding. I also couldn’t move. When I looked down, I realized why. Reese was curled against my right side. Her head was on my chest. One hand was under my T-shirt on my stomach. Ryan was on my other side. His head was in my armpit and his leg was thrown over both of mine.

  I thought about home. How Derek was like me because he had just as many notches on his bedpost as I did. How being with Austin was like coming home. How Carson, by virtue of his dads, had been raised with all this knowledge I had to find on my own. And how he helped me navigate that minefield. How my parents made me feel safe. How Adriana always tried to protect me. Even from myself.

  And how none of that mattered. Because the twins, sprawled across me, pinning me to the bed, made me feel complete.

  I was also aware that someone was knocking on the door.

  About the Author

  Ashley Bartlett was born and raised in California. She is from Sacramento, and her life consists of reading and writing. Most of the time, Ashley engages in these pursuits while sitting in front of a coffee shop with her girlfriend and smoking cigarettes.

  It’s a glamorous life.

  She is an obnoxious, sarcastic, punk-ass, but her friends don’t hold that against her. She currently lives in Long Beach, but you can find her at ashbartlett.com.

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  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

 

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