Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2)

by Jackie Wang

  I bit my lip and thought for a moment. “We all keep secrets, we all have a past. I was just too emotional earlier to see things from your point of view. Some nice cold water sobered me up. I’m sure you had a reason for doing what you did.”

  My words seemed to hit the sweet spot for Kieran. His face softened. “Thank you, for understanding. I was hoping you'd come around.”

  “How about after dinner you explain everything?” I asked. “I won't judge or even interrupt, promise. I just want to help you, Kieran.”

  Kieran nodded. “Okay, Rachelle.”

  I sat up straight in bed and willed myself to do my breathing exercises. Positive affirmations and a few prayers would really help tide me through the next few hours.

  Kieran flicked on the T.V. “Anything you want to watch?”

  “No, you can choose,” I said. I took a few moments to gather my wits and compose myself. I could do this. Maybe I’d laugh about all of this in a couple days and…Okay, so I wouldn’t laugh about it. But at least if I played my cards right, I’d escape unscathed, and Kieran would be held accountable for his actions. After my heart rate slowed down, I came up with a plan.

  We watched Law & Order for about fifteen minutes before a knock came at the door. Kieran opened it a crack, ascertained that it was indeed the delivery man, and unhooked the chain.

  “$20.75,” the Chinese delivery guy said, handing Kieran the bill. The squat, pug-faced man was carrying a small plastic bag with two styrofoam containers inside. He was my direct connection to the outside world. He could help me.

  Kieran dug through his jean pockets but came up empty. “Shit, I can't find my wallet,” Kieran said. “Hold on.”

  “Oh, maybe it fell out somewhere,” I said, hoping my plan would work.

  “Probably,” he said. He turned to the delivery man. “Just wait a minute.” Then he got on his hands and knees to check under the bed.

  In the split second Kieran was flat on the ground, I pressed my note into the man's hand. He tried to read it then and there, but I shook my head. I gestured for him to put it inside his pocket. For half a second, we exchanged a meaningful (I hope) glance.

  Kieran stood up a moment later with his wallet. “Sorry, fell on the floor.” He pulled out a twenty and then a five, gave it to the man and bade him good night. The confused man thanked Kieran several times for the generous tip and then disappeared out into the parking lot. I prayed to God he'd remember to read my note. My little maneuver caused my heart to beat faster again. It’d been a very risky move, but if it worked, I’d be saved. Godspeed, my good man.

  “You wanted some Orange Chicken, right?” Kieran asked me.

  I nodded and swallowed hard. “Sounds good.”

  While Kieran opened up the steaming containers, I glanced at the door once in a while, trying not to act too anxious. My hands were tight fists and my nails left painful crescents on my palm. Please read my note, I prayed.

  “Here,” Kieran said, handing me a carton with greasy fried rice and glossy chunks of fried orange chicken. The sticky-sweet aroma soothed me somewhat. My stomach growled.

  I plastered a smile on my face and said, “Thanks.” After splitting the bamboo chopsticks, and rubbing off the splinters, I dug in. I was starving; hadn’t eaten anything since a Cobb salad last night. I had been too anxious about squeezing into my dress to eat more.

  A few bites later, the queasiness in my stomach abated and my nerves calmed a bit. I swallowed the gall that kept bobbing up and down in my throat and said, “Thanks for dinner.”

  “I never meant to scare you,” Kieran said. “I panicked, Rachelle. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. Or humiliate you.”

  “I know,” I said, trying to sound understanding though I was anything but. “I don't blame you. Like I said, you probably had your reasons.”

  “Do you think you're ready to hear me out now?”

  I nodded. “Take your time. I'm listening.”

  Kieran stood up and tossed his empty carton and plastic fork in the trash. Then he cleared my bed too and sat beside me. “First, you need to know something,” he began.

  But before he could finish his sentence, a loud knock came at the door and Kieran’s eyes flew wide open. Within seconds, he had his gun drawn and cocked. I’d never seen someone arm themselves so quickly. Was this it? Were the cops waiting on the other side?

  Kieran nodded to the door and hissed, “Open it and make them leave.”

  My nostrils flared as I inched toward the door. This was it, my last chance for rescue. If I screwed this up, I'd probably be dead by morning. Kieran was suspicious of me now. That wild look in his eyes told me his next actions could be unpredictably violent.

  With shaky hands, I unhooked the chain and cracked open the door. My heart fell when I saw an innocuous old lady standing on the other side. She looked like she was pushing seventy, with her white hair styled in a pixie cut.

  “C-Can I help you?” I asked.

  An easy smile spread across her face. “Hi dear, name’s Mel. I'm Marvin's wife.”

  “Hi Mel,” I said. “How can I help you?” My eyes were bulging with fear and I prayed Mel could see how terrified I was.

  “Well, Marvin said the bedsheets hadn't been changed yet so I came by to give you some fresh ones,” Mel said, gesturing to the brown fabric folded in her arms. It smelled like Downy.

  “Hold on,” I said. I turned to Kieran and arched my brow. Kieran tucked his gun into his pants and then opened the door wider.

  “Come on in, Mel,” he said.

  Mel giggled. “Oh, I didn't realize you had a gentleman friend in here.”

  “Please make it fast,” Kieran said. “We were just about to go to bed.”

  “Of course, of course,” Mel said, walking over to the beds and pulling off the comforters. “Sorry for the intrusion, I'll be out of your hair in a jiffy!”

  This was my last chance.

  If I didn't warn Mel...and I let her walk...

  I looked over at Kieran. He had his eyes trained on me the entire time. It was just too risky. I trembled, chewing my bottom lip.

  Mel was folding the last hospital corner on my mattress when I said, “Mel, you—”

  “—Did a very thorough job,” Kieran finished my sentence. He snaked his arm around my waist and slipped a fiver into Mel's palm. “Please don't disturb us again. Thank you…Mel.”

  “Thank you so much,” Mel said, pocketing the bill. “I'll leave a sign on your door. Y’all have a good night.” She winked at us as she shut the door.

  My heart sank.

  “Were you about to ask Mel for help?” Kieran asked.

  “No,” I lied. I prayed again that my note would be delivered into the right hands. It was my salvation. I stretched. “I’m exhausted. Maybe we can talk tomorrow?”

  Kieran nodded. “It has been a long day. Go ahead and sleep.” He crawled into his bed and sat there, propped up by two pillows. Then he whipped out his phone and began scrolling through it. His phone! If I could somehow steal it while he was asleep…I could leave and call for help while I made my getaway.

  I turned my back to him and tried to feign deep, sleeping breaths. I just had to be patient. He’d cave eventually and shut his eyes…

  But after what felt like half an hour, Kieran was still on his phone. I flipped over and glared at him. “Your phone is so bright, I can't fall asleep.”

  “I need it to keep me awake,” he explained. “I can't risk you leaving in the middle of the night and ratting me out.”

  “What if I promise I won't leave?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  “So you're just going to stay up all night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said, turning over again. Obviously I wouldn't be able to sleep. How could I, given everything that'd happened? I needed to talk through my day with someone. One of my friends. I wished Terri was here. She’d make some crappy, inappropriate joke to cheer me up. And I could blame he
r for the whole thing. Hiring Kieran was her smart idea. Trusting Kieran because he was Cameron’s brother was the stupidest decision of my life. Now look where it got me. I needed to vent and rant and complain until I was too tired to say another word.

  But I couldn’t.

  “What happened to your Harley?” I asked. I decided to give up on sleep; it was obviously eluding me. I sat up and pulled the covers tight against my chest. It was freezing and I knew it was too much to expect a working heater in a place like this.

  “It got stolen.”

  “That sucks. I know how much you liked it.”

  “If you're just trying to be nice so I can trust you and fall asleep, it ain't happening.”

  “Do you want to talk about anything?” Like why you’re running from the cops?

  “No. Not tonight. I’m exhausted,” Kieran said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  I groaned. He didn’t trust me. “You're impossible, Kieran. You want me to listen to you, but you won't open up to me. Good. Night.”

  Count, Rachelle. Fifty-five, fifty-two, forty-nine, forty-six…

  A few deep breaths later, my eyelids drooped.

  I'd fallen asleep without meaning to. Sometime in the early morning, I woke to the sound of someone screaming. It wasn't me.

  Kieran was sitting upright in bed, crying out, “Trisha, baby! Trisha, no!”

  “Kieran?” I asked in the dark. The room had grown icy; the darkness, foreboding. I groped around in the dark, felt the edge of the mattress and swung my legs over. I sat there, stock-still, back ramrod straight. Fear girded my ribcage, squeezing my internal organs hard.

  “Trish, baby. Why didn't you wait for me?”

  It took me a few seconds to realize he was having a nightmare and sleep-talking.

  This was my chance. I could run.

  But somehow, the panic in his voice kept me rooted.

  Kieran was choking now. Loud, blustery tears streamed down his face, illuminated by the moon. His mumbles were incoherent, but the pain was real. In this vulnerable state, his tough exterior melted away.

  He looked broken.

  Helpless.

  Exposed.

  Who was Trisha, and what had he done to her?

  “Kieran?” I asked again, voice shaky.

  But he'd fallen asleep again, face buried in his pillow. His breath was a soft purr in the still night.

  Damn it, I was in way over my head.

  I stood up in the dark, the damp cold clinging to my skin like a wet sleeve. My blistered feet chafed against the rough carpet, itching to run for the door. I might never get another chance to leave. Frozen sweat prickled along the back of my neck and the little hairs there stood to attention.

  I should run.

  Or I could wait until we got to Seattle tomorrow.

  Stupid brain. Why did it come up with stupid ideas like this?

  Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he deserved my sympathy; needed my help. The way he'd cried out for Trisha was so raw, so human. In that moment, he wasn’t the monster he pretended to be in his waking hours. He was just a frightened young man with a chip on his shoulder. I wanted to know who she was. Maybe he was going to Seattle to see her. The least I could do was hear his side of the story first before handing him over to the authorities. Besides, it was in the middle of the night, and I had no way of making it back to Northbridge on my own, especially in the snow. If he wanted to kill, hurt or rape me, he would’ve done it already, right?

  However, I could at least use his phone to reassure my family that I was okay. I hopped off my bed and waddled over to Kieran's like a walking popsicle. His phone wasn't on the nightstand. I checked around his bed and under it. Nothing. I picked up the motel phone, but the line was dead. Looking underneath it, I realized he’d cut the cord.

  Kieran probably had his cell tucked away somewhere on his body. Damn it. It was hard to believe that last week I'd been ogling him as he swam naked in the Dalton. Now I was about to conduct a body search on him while he was unconscious.

  I pulled back the comforter and Kieran shifted a little, flopping over onto his back. My breath hitched. Seeing him so exposed made my mind race. If I wanted to, I could have my revenge right now. Hurt him for abducting me at the altar. For humiliating me in public and threatening to kill Rob if he didn’t have his way.

  But I was a good girl.

  With a kind heart.

  I could never sink to his level.

  Don't wake up, don't wake up.

  His faded Star Wars t-shirt rode up, exposing his belly button. I could see the edges of his wallet and phone peeking out from his jean pockets. Inches away. My fingers lowered and brushed against my prize, as delicately as if I were performing surgery.

  “Don't leave me again,” Kieran suddenly said. “I need you.” His hand found my wrist and gripped it hard. I tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't budge.

  “Kieran,” I hissed.

  He began pulling me down onto the bed with him. Oh, hell no! I struggled against him, but my skinny arms were no match for his brawny ones. If I woke him, he'd realize he'd fallen asleep and that I was trying to take his belongings. He'd trust me even less than he already did. He’d never tell me his story, and he’d never let me go…

  So with clenched teeth, I sank down next to him, feeling his warmth pressed against my back. He curled his arm around my waist and spooned me, murmuring something into my hair. I felt his warm tears against my nape. Thin, wet rivulets ran down my frozen back and I tensed.

  “I'm never going to let you go again,” he whispered, kissing my right shoulder blade over and over. “I promise.”

  What the hell did he do?

  It shouldn't have felt so good, but it did.

  Really good.

  Too good.

  So good I felt an unwanted tingle between my legs. A tightening of my nipples. Butterflies in my belly.

  Kieran’s lips rested against the top of my spine, radiating warmth down its length. His body heat erased the goosebumps on my skin, and quieted my chattering teeth. My jaws relaxed and the panic in my throat subsided. Kieran moaned against me, the throaty vibrations tickling my back. My body instinctively snuggled even closer to him. Until my ass was pressed against his crotch. For warmth, I reasoned, though I knew I was lying to myself.

  Okay, so I was aroused. By my crazy kidnapper. I was definitely going to hell for this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kieran - Ten Years Ago

  “I’m late, baby,” Trish whispered against my ear. We were lying in bed on Sunday morning after fucking like rabbits for the past hour.

  “What do you mean? Late for what?” I asked.

  “You know, for my period,” she said, her face half-hidden underneath the covers.

  “But you're on the pill, right?”

  “Yes but—”

  “But?”

  “I might've missed a couple of days.”

  “How?”

  “I don't...I don't remember.”

  I sighed, sitting up in bed and turning on the lamp. “Please don't tell me you were so drunk you forgot to take your birth control.”

  “Kieran...”

  “Fuck, Trish, when are you going to start acting like an adult?” I got up and made my way toward the bathroom to brush my teeth. “We need to take you to the doctor's.”

  “I feel fine. It's probably nothing, Ki.”

  “Or it could be something. We should check.”

  “We can't afford—”

  “Trish, we can't afford to wait. What if you are pregnant?” I voiced her biggest fear. She'd told me from day one she wasn't cut out to be a mother. She was raised by a neglectful and abusive one, and she didn't want to perpetuate that cycle. Trisha still bore mental and physical scars that would hang like a dark cloud over her head forever. I was also way too young to be a dad. No one should ever be a father at twenty-one.

  We were not ready for kids. Not for a long time.

  “I've been late before, it
's nothing. C'mon, come back to bed, baby,” Trish murmured, pulling back the covers and exposing her smooth breasts and irresistible curves.

  “Let's go get a pregnancy test then, just so we can be sure,” I said, ignoring her attempt at changing the subject.

  “Later. I'll go get it later. Now come back here.” Trish patted the wrinkled bedsheets beside her.

  “I've got to go to work, baby. Someone has to put food on the table.”

  “When are you coming back?” she whined. “Do you have to go?”

  “I don't know, nine?” I'd worked one to nine at the carwash for the past six months. The pay was shit, but it kept a roof over our heads and dinner on the table. Even if that dinner came frozen or out of a box most nights. We lived in a run-down shoebox apartment in the shoddy side of Northbridge. Moved in two months ago, after Trish had a run-in with Tommy Waller, the Kings’ gang leader. First night, rats chewed up our secondhand furniture. Second night, fat cockroaches crawled over our faces in our sleep. Third night, we heard gunshots and screaming downstairs.

  Trish never complained about our situation. Not that she was in a position to. She’d never even held a job for more than a month, on account of the drinking. I had to support both of us, and it wasn’t easy. It broke my fucking heart, watching her destroy herself. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t protect her from herself. Couldn’t save her from her addiction. Couldn’t raise her up from ruin.

  Two years ago, we’d united with a common purpose. We wanted to be a force of change. Be fucking modern day Robin Hoods, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Yet twenty-six months later, we’d done absolutely nothing but fall slaves to the system ourselves. Poverty enslaved us; hunger drove us to take debasing, mind-numbing jobs just so we could put food on the table. Hard to rise above when life was constantly pushing us down. Working against us. Kicking us in the shins when our faces were already buried in the dirt. Reality sank in, and our once youthful optimism did little to curb the weariness in our hearts. We were always so fucking tired. Tired of running, of hiding, of pain and suffering.

  Trish’s gang spat us out like a storm drain ejected excess sewage after heavy rain. They purged us, and left us to fend for ourselves. Said we were too weak to fight alongside them. We were liabilities. Unwanted baggage. We weren’t ballsy enough to go on crime sprees the way they did. I drew the line at gunning down coked-up kids who owed them money. I couldn’t be ruthless like them. The only reason they didn’t silence us with murder was because Trisha was Tommy’s stepsister. So they let us go instead, to face the streets’ cruelty on our own. Broke and broken, Trish and I only had each other for support. It wasn’t much, but it was something.