Royal Opposites

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Royal Opposites Page 3

by Crawford, Lori


  It seemed he recognized them at the same moment.

  “Hey!” He shouted and ran down the stairs after them.

  Tom grabbed her hand pulled her along as he ran away from her apartment. Shell-‐-shocked, it was all Joan could do to keep up with him. What in the world was going on here? Why was the man in her home? How did he know where she lived? Granted, the bank would have her information on file, but they didn’t know her by face, did they?

  While all those scary thoughts coursed through her mind, she paid no attention to which way they ran. She snapped out of it when Tom stopped in his tracks and looked back. There was no one chasing them so they slowed to a walk. An actual walk instead of their breakneck one before that had them giggling in fits. He pulled her into the shadows of a building and faced her. In the twilight, she could just make out the intensity in his gaze.

  “Are you in some kind of trouble, Joan? Why would a bank guard break into your apartment?” All she could do was shake her head. Tom gave her shoulders a little shake. “Look at me, Joan. Do you have something they want?”

  She shook her head again, and then stopped with a frown.

  She raised her wrist with the camera strap around it. “Just you.”

  “Me? You think that’s about me?”

  “What else could it be? My life was in perfect order until you threw that temper tantrum in there.”

  “In perfect order? Ha! You just got bilked out of sixteen thousand dollars. That’s not in perfect order.”

  She shoved his shoulder, pushing him out of the way to straighten her spine. “Yeah, well, I was paying them until you came along and mucked everything up. They were finished with me.”

  She glanced back the way they’d come. Her anger deflated and she fought tears. “Now they’re in my house.”

  Tom hooked a finger under her chin and lifted so she’d look at him. “We’ll work this out. C’mon. My place is just ahead. We’ll call the police from there. After all, this is America, right? These people have no right to break into your home no matter what claim they think they have over you.”

  Joan swallowed hard past the lump forming in her throat.

  She needed to buck up and fight. “You’re right.”

  Tom gave her one of those devastating and handsome smiles that had her stomach doing flips in spite of the situation. “Come on.” He led her to a large house-‐-like building, which was an apartment complex in disguise. She followed him through the arched entrance into a well-‐-kept courtyard complete with a fountain at its center. They went inside the stucco building and up a couple short flights of stairs to the second floor. Tom readied his keys when they passed a couple doors in that section of the residence. Tom rounded a corner and stopped short.

  “What’s wrong?” Joan asked, peering around his shoulder.

  The door at the far end of the hall was open and gruff voices were spilling out. She got a bad feeling all of a sudden. “Tell me that’s not your place.”

  “Oh how I wish I could.” He spared a glance at her before looking back at his open door. “I think it’s fairly safe to assume that I’m the cause of this mess after all. They wouldn’t be here, too, otherwise.”

  She clutched at his arm. “Tom.” Both of them stared back at the open door. “We should go.”

  Just then, the beefy guard from the bank stepped out the door and slammed his hand against the jamb. Joan flinched like he’d hit her instead of the building. Tom pulled her out of sight around the corner.

  “I think our departure is a fabulous idea.” He laced his fingers through hers. “This way.”

  Tom led them back the way they’d come, but took a detour at the first corner they’d turned. He went to the right instead of left which would have taken them back to the front entrance. He pushed open a door and led her down a few flights of stairs to the garage.

  Joan was surprised when he inserted a key into the lock of an older model Acura CL. He held the door for her and she slid into the leather bucket seat. She leaned over and unlocked the driver’s door while he walked around the car. Joan couldn’t help but wonder who ordered an entire menu of food for one meal, but drove an old, inexpensive car? He didn’t seem too worried about money. That was the kind of attitude only people who had money ever had. His bank account had been cleaned out, but his sole response had been, ‘I have others’. Who was this guy? And how safe was she sticking with him?

  “I say we go straight to the police,” Tom said the moment he eased his tall frame behind the wheel. Thoughts of safety went right out of her head. She couldn’t imagine he would take her to the police station if he had any nefarious plans in mind. She nodded her agreement and fastened her seat belt.

  After buckling in, Tom eased from his parking space and headed for the exit. They were waiting for the automatic door to complete its incredibly slow journey up when the beefy guard plowed his way through the stairwell door. Joan’s jaw dropped open when their eyes met. He appeared shocked to see them.

  “Go, go, go!” Joan demanded even while Tom spun to look at the guard. She didn’t have to tell him again. He jammed his foot on the accelerator and peeled out of the garage. He wheeled the car hard to the right sending them careening down the narrow, traffic-‐-

  less street and pressed the button for the garage door.

  Joan looked back just in time to see the guard jump out of the way of the descending door. The man ran for a car parked on the street and dove inside. “He’s chasing us.”

  “You aren’t serious.” Tom checked the rearview. The guard’s car lurched away from the curb in hot pursuit. “Hold on!”

  He whipped the steering wheel hard to the right sending them careening around the corner. He did the same at the next intersection ignoring the stop sign on the corner. Joan braced herself against the door. Once steady, she watched out the rear window. Headlights bobbed after them.

  “He’s still there.”

  “I see him.” Tom pressed hard on the accelerator. They flew up the narrow street lined with parked cars on both sides. Joan prayed no one would come from the opposite direction. It was a tight fit on a good day. This day would make it impossible. She checked out the back again.

  “He’s gaining.” The straight stretch allowed the guard’s more powerful car to eat up quite a bit of the distance Tom had put between them. To her surprise, she felt the car slow abruptly.

  “What are you doing?” She turned around to see they were fast approaching Ocean Park. The smaller streets had little to no traffic. Ocean Park was a whole different story. Sometimes there was a lot of traffic, other times it was quiet. She prayed now was one of those other times.

  She braced herself, seeing that he wasn’t going to stop at the intersection. Coming from that direction, they had no idea of knowing if any cars were traveling on the boulevard. They shot out onto the busier street and Tom pulled the wheel hard to the right.

  Their sudden appearance was met with honked horns and screeching tires, but miraculously no crunching metal. A stream of headlights were speeding toward them from the opposite direction, but that didn’t stop Tom from jerking the wheel hard to the left across oncoming traffic and back onto a smaller side street.

  Joan whirled in her seat to watch for the guard. No other car followed them. Moments later, Tom turned left and slowed their pace.

  “No need to tip him off if he happens to see us.”

  Joan sighed and settled back in the bucket seat. “Agreed.”

  “Now, we go to the police.”

  Joan focused her attention on him. “You and me? We are definitely on the same page.”

  Tom gave her a tight smile in response. A light on the dashboard flashed accompanied with a light ‘ding’ drawing his awareness. Joan tensed up.

  “What is it?”

  “We’re almost out of gas.”

  Joan smiled. “Is that all? After the day we’ve had, I think that sounds pretty darn normal.”

  “Again. That same page thing you mentioned
a few moments ago.”

  Tom eased off the gas a bit so they coasted more than drove to the gas station. He stopped at a pump and powered off the engine. “Keep an eye out for our friend. I’m sure he’s figured out where we’re headed.”

  ****

  Joan nodded and watched the street while Tom got out and pumped the gas. What in the world had they stumbled onto? He was positive this couldn’t be a normal reaction to what amounted to nothing more than a customer complaint. He pulled out his billfold and noted he was getting low on funds. He had under five hundred dollars on him and one credit card not linked to his royal name. He had a couple thousand back at his place, but he couldn’t imagine the currency had survived the intrusion. Assuming they got this straightened out tonight, it should be enough to see him home.

  After he paid the clerk, he leaned against the side of the car to ponder the situation while the fuel flowed into the tank. He found it hard to focus because the pump TV kept intruding on his thoughts. When the news bulletin came on, he stood riveted for a different reason. He knocked on the window to get Joan’s attention.

  Once she looked at him, he beckoned for her to get out of the car.

  “This can’t be good.” He commented and gestured to their faces in the graphics behind the newscaster with the headline,

  ‘Attempted Bank Robbery’ stamped below.

  Chapter Four

  “What in the world?” Joan asked when she walked around the car to stand at Tom’s side.

  In awe they listened to the reporter announce that the couple seen in the picture was wanted on charges of attempted bank robbery. Tom felt his blood boil when the teller he’d dealt with that morning dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and told all about how scared she’d been when that man had accosted her and demanded she hand over his money.

  “‘His money’ was just how he put it, too. Like he had a claim on the hard earned cash our customers deposit.” With that statement she broke down in sobs. The anchor smiled back at the camera, ignoring the woman’s dramatics.

  “This can’t be good.” Tom finished pumping the gas and returned the nozzle to its holder. Joan walked back around the car then met his gaze over the roof.

  “The sooner we get to the police and straighten all this out, the better.”

  “Agreed.” They exchanged nods then climbed back in the car. They made the short journey to the station in silence.

  When Tom tuned down the small street that led to the garage entrance, he looked at Joan. She had her hands clasped tightly around the camera in her lap. He didn’t blame her. The video footage she shot was the sole proof of their innocence.

  When Tom was about to turn into the garage adjacent to the public safety building, Joan sat forward all of a sudden and stared hard out the windshield. Puzzled, he slowed the car and followed her gaze.

  An officer stood at the entrance of the building with a woman. Everything about his stance screamed that the cop was beyond furious. Still, it was the woman who drew his gaze.

  “Is that…?” Tom frowned and leaned forward, too.

  “Yep.” While they watched, the officer pulled the teller from the bank into a tight embrace and held on like he’d never let her go.

  Joan slumped back in her seat and rubbed a hand over her face.

  Tom knew just what she was feeling. There was no way they could waltz in there now. Especially if they had to pass the now kissing couple to do it.

  “I think it’s time we rethink our plan,” Tom said.

  “What other plan could we have? We know we didn’t try to rob that bank.”

  “We need to deal with this from a position of strength, Joan.

  They’ve already shown us they can get to us. And now this?” He gestured toward the cop while the man brushed the hair from the woman’s face. Even in the waning light, there was no doubt he adored her. “We have to fortify our position.”

  “Fortify our position? What kind of talk is that? You act like we’re going into battle.”

  “No. We’re not going into it. We’re already there. Until we know how and why, we’ve got to get away from here.”

  “Away? And go where?”

  Tom started to respond, but he noted a police cruiser pull up at the intersection a few yards from them. “We need to go.”

  Joan followed his gaze and then gave him a reluctant nod.

  He eased toward the stop sign, desperate not to attract either cop’s attention.

  He breathed a bit easier when the cruiser continued through the intersection without sparing them a look. Tom flicked on his right blinker, heeded the stop sign and then wheeled the car to the right. The cop with the teller remained engrossed with her. While they sat at the light just a short distance away, Joan risked a look at him.

  “He’s looking at us.”

  “Just be calm.” Tom reached over to give her hand a squeeze. Joan settled back in the seat when the light changed. He pressed the accelerator and went with the flow of traffic onto the onramp of the Santa Monica Freeway.

  “We need to get out of the city. Once we’re out of their grasp, we’ll have some breathing room and can figure this out.”

  Joan stared at him. “We? Don’t you mean me? Aren’t you heading out of the country tomorrow?”

  “First of all, I’m not about to abandon you in this mess. After all, you’re in it because you tried to help me. Second, my tickets and my passport are still in my apartment. I won’t be flying commercial anytime soon.”

  “So we’re just going to flee the city like common criminals?”

  “Unless you’d prefer to stay and face those very determined guards.” He looked at her miserable face in the dim light. “I don’t like this anymore than you do. But my gut is telling me that we need to handle this once we’ve marshaled all available resources.”

  “You say that like we have some resources available. I can’t for the life of me figure what they are. Especially if the police are out of the question.”

  Tom smiled at her. He wondered if now was a good time to let her in on the fact that she’d been palling around today with Rafferstonia’s King-‐-to-‐-be. The smile faded a bit. Knowing Joan, she wouldn’t believe him for a moment. In fact, it was more probable she’d decide he was a crazy person and jump from the car at the first opportunity. He couldn’t allow that. Not that he’d blame her.

  Americans were far removed from the notion of royalty. Still, he was serious about protecting her and helping get her life back on track. After all, she wouldn’t be in this mess if not for him.

  “Let’s just say that I know some people.”

  He heard her suck in a deep breath when they took the entrance to the Santa Monica Freeway. “I hope it’s the right people.”

  “They are,” Tom confirmed and returned his attention to the thick traffic heading away from the beach community toward downtown Los Angeles. His mouth tightened into a grim line.

  Crown Prince Saracen Tomas de Raffertias du Bacoeur had a lot more weight than Tom Rafferty. He was quite looking forward to shedding his Tom Rafferty persona and start throwing that weight around.

  But he had to do in the proper way. The last thing he wanted to do was to allow any hint of scandal to touch his ascension to the throne. Him being fingered, as the Americans put it, as a bank robber would put his county’s considerable financial interests at risk. It appalled him to think that such shame could be brought upon his nation because of him. That was the last thing he’d allow to happen.

  ****

  She must be plumb out of her mind to be riding along with a complete stranger like this. Joan went over her options in her head and had to admit she didn’t have many. Options, that was. If she were honest with herself, she had to confess, part of her was glad not to be facing this nightmare alone. At least Tom seemed to have a plan. The only thing she could think to do at the moment was curl up into the nearest corner and bawl her eyes out. The fact he seemed so sure his plan would work is what kept her from demanding he drop
her off so she could find that corner.

  She studied him. Joan could just make out his strong features in the dim light. The reddish tint from the brake lights of the car in front of them didn’t make it any easier. Her memory supplied his handsome features for her. Although, those features seemed a bit drawn in anger at the moment. Seeing that told her they were, indeed, in this together. Truth be told, she was ticked off, too.

  Who were these people that they felt they could just screw with folk’s lives like this? When she wasn’t feeling like an idiot for letting them bilk her out of sixteen grand, she was downright mad.

  Her hand clenched around her camera case prompting her to revise the figure. So it was sixteen thousand, eight hundred. Big whoop.

  That didn’t change the fact that she was on the run from a couple of the bank guards and the police who’d somehow been convinced she tried to rob the place. She glanced over at Tom’s strong profile.

  With him, nonetheless. What was the world coming to?

  She hoped his plan included some serious retribution beyond just straightening the mess out. Someone needed to go to jail behind this. And Joan was darn skippy it wasn’t going to be her. Memory of the news report surfaced and she bit back a groan.

  Joan’s face had been all over the television for everyone to see with the label “bank robber” beneath it. No. It was worse than that.

  They’d called them “attempted bank robbers”. So not only was she a criminal, but also incompetent. For some reason, the incompetent part bothered her a whole lot more than the criminal part. That clinched it. She was insane. Joan pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.

  “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” Joan took one palm away to look at Tom. Whatever was in his expression calmed her accelerating heart rate. She had no reason to trust him, but Joan did. She nodded.

  “So, what’s the plan? Where are we going?”

  “It seems wise to put much distance between us and them.”

 

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