No Such Thing as a Free Ride

by Shelly Fredman

  He was wearing jeans and a short sleeved button down linen shirt that showcased forearms that were lean and muscular. He was wearing his trademark silver wristband, and a silver cross hung from his ear. He reached out to kiss me hello and his shirt sleeve rode up his arm, revealing the Native American tribal symbol tattooed on his shoulder. He was the coolest person in the history of cool and, yet, the least affected by it. He just—was.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Um, yeah,” I said, looking vaguely around the room. I picked up my bag and did a mental check for my pepper spray, rape whistle and the set of brass knuckles I got at a yard sale from my neighbor across the street who used to teach middle school.

  Nick stopped me at the door. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

  “I feel like someone’s watching me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick slid his hand around to the small of his back and withdrew a .38 caliber pistol from beneath his shirt. His face remained impassive, but I could feel the heightened energy radiating from his body.

  “Do you think someone’s in the house?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” I said, resting my hand on the arm that held the gun. “I’m sure no one broke in here.”

  Nick relaxed and slipped the pistol back into its holster. “Where were you when you began to feel like you were being watched?”

  “Outside walking Adrian. It was just a little while ago. All of a sudden it felt like I wasn’t alone—like I was being followed. I can’t explain it,” I ended, sounding like the Delusional Paranoids they make Lifetime movies about.

  Nick opened the screen door and stood on the porch, his eyes roving up and down the block. “I don’t see anyone, but you have good instincts, Angel. Don’t discount them.” He closed the door and locked it behind him. “The cops still haven’t located Bunny yet. Could be she’s keeping tabs on you, waiting to make her move.”

  I plopped down on the couch, allowing myself a moment of royal self pity. “Well, that’s just great. Christ, you’d think the police would’ve picked her up by now. I mean how hard can it be to find a 5’8” hulk with bright orange hair and a face like a bulldog?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Nick said mildly. He sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into him, drawing comfort from his nearness.

  “I’ve got a few people looking for her as well. But homeless kids are very loyal to their street family, so if Bunny wants to disappear, they’ll go to any length to make sure she doesn’t get found.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. She’s—she’s scary and abusive and—and—nuts!”

  “She’s also the alpha female. As sick as it sounds, Bunny provides leadership and stability for these kids. For all intents and purposes, she’s their mother.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Forget what she did to Heather and what she’s threatening to do to me. She probably whacked that poor case worker just for knowing Star.”

  “You’re not getting an argument from me, darlin’. It’s a sick world, I’ll grant you that. But for most of these kids, it’s business as usual.”

  “How did you end up living on the streets, Nick? And how did you get out?”

  Nick shifted in his seat, a slight shadow crossing his face. “Let’s stick to one subject at a time. Can you think of anyone else who may be interested in a little payback? Someone you may have managed to piss off recently?”

  I could think of several, but I knew what he was driving at. “You’ve been talking to Alphonso, haven’t you?” I sighed.

  “He’s been talking to me. You really impressed him. That’s saying something. Alphonso doesn’t impress easily.”

  “Yeah, well, I think I’m growing on him. Listen, maybe this feeling I had is just the product of an overactive imagination. It probably doesn’t mean anything at all.”

  “You don’t really believe that and neither do I.”

  Nick stood and put his hand into his pants pocket, extracting a set of keys. He took one off and handed it to me. “If at any time you feel unsafe here, I want you to go over to my place. I may not be back tonight, but the security over there is a little tighter than it is here.”

  “Wow. It must be pretty important business if you’re not planning to come home tonight. What’s her name?” Oh, Holy Jesus! Please let Nick go retroactively deaf so that he didn’t hear what just came out of my mouth. Jeez, this is awkward. But… wait! It doesn’t have to be. I’ll just take it back!

  “Um, I didn’t really say that. So, ready to go?”

  I grabbed my bag and strode purposefully toward the door. Suddenly, I felt Nick’s arms around my waist, pulling me back against him.

  Oh boy, here it comes, the lecture on jealousy, or at the very least, some good natured ribbing. Well, it’s not like I don’t deserve it.

  He turned me around and wrapped his arms around me, a smile playing about his lips that was so tender, so sincere it took my breath away.

  “Just when I think there are no good surprises left in the world…” He looked deeply into my eyes and sighed. “You continually amaze me in the best possible ways.” Then he lowered his head and kissed me.

  Talk about good surprises.

  *****

  Alphonso was waiting in Nick’s car, a 1964 hunter green Jaguar XKE. He grinned when he saw me and flashed me a hand gesture, signifying our newly formed status as partners in crime. I waved back, glad to be part of the Brotherhood.

  I slid behind the wheel of the Le Sabre and we both took off, driving a few blocks out of the way to make sure no one was following us. When it looked like we were clear, we turned the cars around and headed for the Walt Whitman Bridge. The safe house was located somewhere in the south end of Toms River, New Jersey, a quiet beach community to the north of Atlantic City.

  It was about an hour’s drive, give or take two for rush hour traffic. I entertained myself by thinking about Nick’s kiss. It was soft and sweet and all too brief. If Janine were here she’d tell me that he’s horribly conflicted.

  “Nick doesn’t want to lead you on, but the man can’t help himself,” she’d say. “His feelings for you are too powerful. He can’t resist your womanly charms, so he kisses you like a brother, but in his heart he wants more… much more.”

  Yeah. That’s just what Janine would say… if she were living in a Jane Austen novel.

  And then there was the way Nick deflected my question about his past. I’d asked him about it before and was always met with the same enigmatic response.

  What is he trying so hard to forget? And why won’t I leave it alone? Because the past has a way of propelling itself forward, and unless you’re a really fast runner it ends up biting you in the ass.

  I was lost in thought so I was surprised when, an hour and a half later, Nick turned down a narrow deserted road and pulled into the driveway of a sprawling one-story beach house. I followed him into the driveway and cut the engine. Climbing out of the car I breathed deeply, allowing the pure ocean air to fill my lungs.

  The house was situated directly on the beach. Slabs of slate were laid down on the sand to create a patchwork pathway. Beach grass grew wild along an old wooden fence. I looked up and saw a flock of seagulls flying overhead.

  Alphonso opted to wait in the car, so Nick and I took the path around to the front of the building. Inside, Crystal stood in front of a wall to wall glass window. She spied us and ran to the door.

  “Hi,” she yelled, swinging the door wide open. “How do you like my new digs?”

  Although it had only been a few days, Crystal looked different, and it took me a moment to figure out why. She was smiling. Gone was the haunted looked she’d sported since that first day at my uncle’s gym. Standing before me was a kid who was well rested, well fed and, even if only temporarily, at peace.

  As we entered the house, a yellow lab and her puppy galloped over to say hello. Nick knelt down and scratched the big one behind her ears. She collapsed onto the floor rolli
ng over on her back in unabashed ecstasy.

  “That’s Dolly,” Crystal told us, “and this little guy is Elwood. He won’t leave me alone.”

  In reality, it looked more like the other way around, but the puppy didn’t seem to mind being the center of Crystal’s attention.

  An attractive young woman in her late 20’s walked into the living room. “Hi, I’m Mandy. I sort’ve run things around here. You must be Brandy,” she added, shaking my hand. “Crystal’s told me a lot about you.”

  Nick stood up and Mandy made a little sucking noise in the back of her throat. “And you must be Nick,” she gulped.

  To her credit, she recovered quickly and even managed to acknowledge that I was still in the room. “It’s really nice to meet you… I mean, both of you.”

  “Hey,” Crystal interrupted, “Want to see my room?”

  We followed her to the back of the house, Dolly and Elwood dutifully trotting after us.

  The place was owned by a friend of Sal’s and used, alternately, as a safe-house and an interim crash pad for kids with varying transitional needs. At the moment, Crystal was the only resident. The rest of the bedrooms were occupied by staff. We returned to the living room and I grabbed a seat on the sofa.

  “So,” Crystal demanded, returning to form, “are you any closer to finding Star? Or even Bunny? I mean this place is nice and all, but you can’t expect me to stay penned up here forever.”

  My first thought was, “Why, you ungrateful little shit,” and I was immediately ashamed of myself. The poor kid probably felt guilty for enjoying the safety and comfort of her temporary home when her best friend was MIA. Note to self: Stop being such a judgmental bitch.

  “I imagine you’re very frustrated right now,” Nick stated. His simple affirmation of her feelings seemed to release some of the tension from her body.

  “Crystal,” I said, after a bit, “I know you believe you’ve told us everything you can think of regarding Star, but sometimes the most insignificant seeming thing can turn out to be really valuable. Can you remember any interaction that you might have had concerning Star that may have slipped your mind?”

  Crystal was quiet for a minute, thinking. “I’ll be right back,” she finally announced and disappeared down the hall. She returned a minute later, holding a small brown paper bag.

  “Star took most of her stuff with her whenever she went anywhere, because she couldn’t trust it to be there when she got back. Everything she owned fit in a back pack anyway, so it was easy. Well, when she didn’t come home, I grabbed what little was left and saved it for her. I just thought she’d be mad if it was gone.”

  She turned the bag upside down and a small pile of random items spilled onto the floor.

  There was half a pack of matches, a pipe, two shiny stones and a motel business card. I picked up the card. “Lemon Tree Inn,” I read aloud. “Is this where Star goes when she’s working?”

  Crystal glanced at the card and shook her head. “Little Red’s girls stay close to home. This place is too far north. Do you think it could mean something?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’d like to check it out. Do you mind if I take this stuff with me?”

  Silently she handed me back the card. “I should have thought of this sooner,” she said, her voice breaking. “What if it’s too late—”

  I was about to launch into a Tony Robbins style pep talk on the powers of positive thinking, when Nick locked eyes with Crystal, and I sat back, deferring to what I knew would be just the right words to soothe her.

  To my surprise he remained silent and just listened while Crystal went through a litany of emotions. I took my cues from him and kept my mouth shut. It seemed to be just what she needed.

  Afterwards, leaning up against my car, I asked him about it. “How did you know to stay quiet when Crystal started blaming herself, Nick?”

  “Crystal didn’t want me to fix it for her, darlin’. Anything I’d say to reassure her would have been a lie anyway and she knew it. What she needed was to vent her feelings and know that she was being heard.”

  He leaned in close and brushed a stray hair out of my face. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it?” he added with a gentle smile. “It goes completely against your nature to see someone in pain and not actively try to help them.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “It was.” But I’m learning that sometimes, less is more.

  Nick knew a shortcut through the back roads to I 95, where we would then part ways; me back to my house and the new Disney Channel movie, and Nick, to whatever business he had that required him to go armed.

  The route was windy and in desperate need of repair, and I was having a hard time keeping up with Nick. My phone rang, and rather than take my hands off the wheel, I let it go to voicemail. I rolled up my window part way to keep the dust out of my lungs.

  I hadn’t seen many cars on the road, so it surprised me when a late model convertible, packed with a bunch of guys in their early 20’s began weaving down the road. By the look of their shaved heads, they were either neo Nazis or young army recruits from nearby Fort Dix. I thought about pulling over to let them pass, but the road was wide enough to get by and I didn’t want to lose Nick.

  The convertible came up close behind me, and as I looked in my rear view mirror the driver tossed a beer can out of the car.

  Oh great, I’ve got a drunken litter bug riding my butt.

  Suddenly, he tromped on the gas, pulling his vehicle alongside mine. I slowed down to let him pass, when the passenger riding shotgun leaned out of the car holding what, literally, appeared to be some sort of sawed off rifle. Oh shit.

  Instinctively, I leaned on the horn, my body bracing itself for the worst. Something hit my side window and blood spattered everywhere. Wow. He must’ve severed my spinal cord. I don’t feel a thing.

  It took me a few seconds to realize the blood was actually red paint that had been fired from a paintball gun. The shooter had managed to hit just below the open window, spraying me and most of the front seat with what I hoped was a water soluble pellet.

  Their laughter rang in my ears as the driver sped away from me. Unfortunately, he hadn’t counted on Nick witnessing the whole event.

  He came up behind Nick and honked his horn in “boys will be boys” horseplay. Nick slowed down, seemingly, to let the convertible pass, only the minute he was in position, he rammed the back of the car in a perfect pit maneuver. The convertible spun out and came to a screeching halt.

  I pulled my car over to the side of the road, stopping about 20 yards from the others. Four sets of arms and legs piled out of the convertible. They converged on the Jaguar, the driver screaming at the top of his drunken lungs.

  “What the fuck, dude! You tryin’ to kill us? We were just havin’ some fun.”

  Nick climbed out of the car, his gaze fixed on the shooter. The remaining three formed a protective circle around their friend, hands raised in classic fight mode. “Come and get us, asshole,” they taunted.

  That was a mistake.

  In a blink Nick was upon them, kicking out his leg and catching the guy nearest him under the chin. He fell to the ground, yelping in agony, half his jaw bone poking through his skin. Without losing a step, Nick grabbed the shooter around the neck and began choking the life out of him.

  In the time that I’ve known Nick, I’ve watched him snap a man’s arm in half (for the best of reasons) and then calmly claim it’s the price of doing business. I have seen him coolly dispatch someone, with a well placed bullet right between the eyes, (again, not without provocation) and not even break a sweat. But in all that time, I’d never seen him lose control… until now.

  I raced over to the Jaguar just as Alphonso emerged from the passenger seat. “Alphonso, do something! He’s going to kill that guy.”

  “Don’t move,” Alphonso barked at the two men left standing. They didn’t seem inclined to run to their friend’s defense. In fact, they looked like they’d rather go home and forget the
whole thing.

  “Nick.” Alphonso yelled, trying to pry his hands loose. “Slow down, man. She’s okay. It’s all cool.”

  “This bastard needs a lesson on how to treat a woman.”

  And with a sudden, gut wrenching clarity I knew I wasn’t the woman he was thinking about.

  I ran over to Nick and placed my hand on his arm. “Nick. Please. Let him go.”

  The fear in my eyes must’ve snapped him out of whatever alternate universe he’d drifted off to. He loosened his grip and the guy collapsed, gasping for air. His friends ran forward and grabbed him and took off running.

  We watched them pile into the convertible and peel out, screaming obscenities at us from the safe confines of the car, their voices slowly fading as they turned a corner in the road.

  “Are you okay?” Nick asked.

  I nodded, afraid to verbalize the lie. The entire episode was over in a heartbeat, but the effects were chilling.

  Alphonso cut me a look. He felt it too—an invisible current of energy that emanated from Santiago and threatened to choke us all. It was the unmitigated power of barely contained rage.

  To Alphonso he said, “Change of plans. I’m sure Brandy won’t mind you hitching a ride with her.” Not waiting for an answer, he took off without a backward glance.

  “What just happened?” I whispered, even though Nick was long gone.

  Alphonso scratched his head. “Fuck if I know.”

  Even ultra cool Alphonso “I mind my own business” Jackson couldn’t help but speculate on Nick’s recent behavior.

  “I’ve known Santiago for five years and I’ve never seen him lose it before. Something’s been eating that guy ever since he got back from—” he stopped short, finishing out the sentence in a memo to himself. “Keep your big mouth shut, Jackson.”

  “Alphonso,” I said, trying my best to sound therapeutic rather than nosy, “it’s not good to keep things bottled up. You’ll feel better if you get this off your chest. So, you were saying, since he got back from—”

  Nick’s right hand man raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m not sayin’ nuthin’. And don’t you go ridin’my ass for information neither. If Nick wanted you to know he’d tell you up close and personal.”