Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie (The Pact Book 3)

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Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie (The Pact Book 3) Page 8

by Alex Villavasso


  “Yeah. I didn’t catch that either.” A frown emerges on my face. “The more you know,” I huff. By happenstance, I glance back at the house and notice Nathan watching me from one of the windows on the first floor of the house, his palms pressed against the glass while he stares directly into my eyes. I hold my gaze, but he breaks away and retreats behind the cream curtains that lay behind the window pane. What’s with that kid? “Hey, Valerie. You just missed Nathan again,” I say from behind her as I speed up to match her pace.

  “Oh, I did? Where was he? I thought he was sleeping or something.”

  “Thought so too. I must have woke him up when I bolted downstairs.” I shrug and point my thumb behind me. “He was watching me by the window when I left. I think his mom took him away to go eat or something. Still haven’t seen the other kid yet.”

  “Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”

  “Please… Don’t even start. He’s probably just confused. Two chicks did just show up at his door one day and became his roommates.”

  “Hopefully not much longer.”

  “Yeah. Nice people, but this blows. I want out. Any luck with your cell?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “Nada. Maybe we’ll get better reception once we’re on the road. They don’t have a land line in the house, and the phones in the diner were on the fritz last night. I doubt they were doing repairs overnight in the weather we had. Hell, I doubt Frank even called in for repairs last night. He could have this morning if Helen told him about it, but we kinda put a crook in things. Like, do they even do takeout over there in the first place? It’s a small spot.”

  “Beats me, but I wrote an email last night to customer service saying we had a breakdown and would have to possibly cancel our room. I checked this morning, and it’s still trying to send.”

  “It is what it is. It’s a bit hard to be all that disappointed considering that I still don’t know what’s wrong. Does this set us back a bit?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course. But I mean your car is important, too.”

  “Yeah, hopefully we can get some of your money back, or a credit…anything.”

  “It’ll all work out in the end. If you think about it, we’re in the middle of something you’ll tell to your kids.” Kids? My brow furrows, but I’m quick to hide my dampened emotions. Kids are the last thing on my mind. Doubt I’d even make it that far. Plus, from what I’ve seen, hunting and having a family doesn’t usually work out too well.

  “Eh,” I respond. “That’s like, fairytale thinking.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Exactly what I said. That’s not how I envision my life. Not everyone winds up with two point five children, a big house with a white picket fence, and their prince charming, Valerie.”

  “Yeah, I know, but everyone tries to make it happen.”

  “More or less, sure. Everyone’s gunning for something.”

  “So, what are you gunning for, Sailor?”

  “That’s a good question. I thought I knew at one point, but honestly, now I don’t know.”

  Chapter 8: Car Trouble

  The locking mechanism on the doors of Frank’s truck lock and the engine erupts into a loud rumble. Frank adjusts himself in his seat and then the rearview mirror, stopping once he finds the perfect view. Funny how it just so happens to conveniently capture me in all of my beauty in the backseat. “Cheer up, darling. I’m sure everything will work out for you two. If anything, you got a story for later.”

  “Ha. I’m good. Just shaking out the cobwebs still. Didn’t sleep too well.” Valerie’s in the front seat, but I don’t have to see her face to know that she’s quietly smirking, pleased with her hidden victory.

  My body bobs forward as Frank powers through the gravel, quickly putting distance between us and the old shed on his property that he parked beside, which isn’t the least bit sketch. I never knew he had a shack, but then again, I never asked. Now that I think about it, it’s less of a shack and probably more of a workshop. Judging by its size, it can most likely double as a garage. It probably does.

  Once we break away from his lot, his truck picks up again, and he begins to go noticeably faster. “Feel that? That’s power.” He chuckles. I barely manage to hear it over the AC. “The Missus is all about practicality, but boy, this baby can go.” Valerie laughs uneasily as he continues to accelerate down the road while I sit tight and endure the old man’s shenanigans. If I knew him personally, I would have told him to calm the fuck down, but clearly, that isn’t going to happen until he’s had his fill of excitement for the day. Thankfully by the time we approach the crossroads at the end of the street, the truck begins to slow. Frank’s truck is newer, unlike the vehicle his wife drives. It’s a tan, Ford-something-I-don’t-care-for. From what I can tell, he enjoys it. “We’ll have no problem getting your car back to our place. This thing can move.”

  “Cool,” I respond from the backseat.

  “Hell, you might not even need any work done. A good jump could be all you need to send you guys on your way.”

  “Hopefully. It didn’t sound too good when I tried to start it. It might not be the battery, but I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, well yeah, I’ll give it a look in the parking lot and figure out what needs to be done next.”

  “Awesome.”

  We pull up to the diner about fifteen minutes later and Frank does just that. With me by his side, we curiously look under the hood while Valerie shadows us at a comfortable distance. “You say you’re not sure if it’s the battery? When’s the last time you got it checked? Before you left for your trip, right?” Frank asks as he hovers over me, his hand resting on the roof of the hood.

  “…No,” I answer while still scanning the insides. “But I take care of it. My dad looked at it not too long ago. We look after our stuff.”

  “Hmm, I see. He didn’t remind you to get a quick checkup before you left? That’s a must, sweetheart. That’s page two in the good father’s handbook.”

  “Well, he probably would have done everything himself, if he wasn’t dead,” I respond after I lift my head from the interior of my Mustang. “…Yeah, nothing seems wrong from what I can see. It could be something out of view. I’m going to try to start the engine real quick. Last night it conked-out completely. Engine sounded like a horse having a stroke. Maybe you can take a gander at it while I fire it up…well, if I can get it to run.”

  I unlock the door to my car and plant myself in the driver’s seat, one foot out on the pavement, the other beside the gas pedal.

  “Hey, hey, wait! I wouldn’t do that. Think about what you’re doing.” Frank stops me right as I jam my keys into the ignition. “If you’re having engine problems it might be best that we bring it back home and have a look. You could be doing some damage under the hood if something isn’t right.” Frank slams the hood of my car and squares up above me at the driver’s side, his hands resting at his hips. “And…sorry about your Dad,” he says with a sigh. “I didn’t mean for what I said to be offensive or anything. It was in poor taste. I apologize.”

  “It’s okay. You didn’t know. And while we’re at it, my mom’s dead, too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure they’re in a better place.”

  Considering how they both went out, I sure as hell hope so.

  “Hey, Mr. Frank, by any chance do you think the phones will be working inside? They weren’t working last night.”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s a chance. Helen said something about that. A tower or something must have gotten hit, she thinks, but, sure. We can check it out.”

  “Awesome,” Valerie responds. I can hear it in her voice that she’s relieved. I am too, but I’m far from being over the moon.

  “I’ll be rooting for you on the sidelines.”

  “You’re not coming with?”

  “Nah. I’m going to read up on the driver’s manual. Might be able to find something useful. Good luck in there.”
<
br />   “Thanks. You, too.”

  I nod and they leave me to my devices. I dig out the driver’s manual deep in the dashboard and thumb through the table of contents. After skimming the first dozen or so chapter headers I sling the manual onto the passenger’s seat. It’s not like the manual has a step-by-step guide to fixing an engine or whatever the problem is. At least no one broke in and stole our stuff.

  There, something positive.

  A few minutes later, Frank and Valerie return. Frank with a neutral expression, Valerie, bummed out. I make eye contact with her through the front window and see her shrug with her palms exposed. Damn. No dice. “Anything?” I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I ask anyway once she’s at the foot of my open door.

  “No, but Frank’s working on it. He’ll probably get it fixed later today or something. It sucks, but it’s whatever. Well, not really, but yeah…”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “Anything in the manual?”

  “Ha. No.”

  “Yeah, didn’t want to say it, but it was a long-shot.”

  “So was the phone.” I shrug. “So, what’s our next move? Where did Mr. Frank run off to?”

  “He’s setting up the tow for your car. I asked him if he could drive us to a car shop or something so we can get it fixed, but he insisted on doing it himself to save us a few dollars if it’s within his reach of expertise.”

  “Yeah, that’s been his thing since yesterday. Good guy. Almost too nice. Like, if he didn’t have a wife and kids, I wouldn’t have felt right sleeping at his place,” I say as I glance into the rearview mirror, eying Frank’s truck.

  “To be fair, I don’t think we would have taken up the offer to crash at a stranger’s house if it was a dude. Old or young. Both can be creepy.”

  “Yup, especially when they’re old enough to be your dad.”

  “I mean, his wife is cool and so is he. I’m not getting any creeper vibes. The hotel thing is already screwed up, so as long as you’re good to go, I’m good to go. Let’s just hope that Frank pulls through with the clutch save so we can be on our way. Repairs can be expensive, you know.”

  “Blah. Yeah, I know…and they’re helping us out in more ways than one. When we leave for good, I’ll slide them a couple bills, provided they keep the food coming.”

  “Oh my gosh, Sailor. You’re a mess.”

  “It is what it is. I’m just being real. A girl’s gotta eat.”

  Once Frank gets everything set up, he clamps my car to the gadget on the back of his truck (I have no idea what it’s called, a hitch?), locking it in. We watch him from the comfort of his truck in our own special way. After that, we hit the road and head for his house. Needless to say, having my baby drag along behind us was gut wrenching. I’ve handled worse things better, but the thought of my Mustang randomly cutting loose and ruining someone’s day somehow managed to keep my attention for most of the ride. That would suck so bad. The cops would get involved, and we’d be in an even bigger mess if it caused a wreck. At that point, we’d just have to cut our losses and cancel this whole thing. Oh, the possibilities.

  After fifteen minutes or so of driving and entertaining a handful of improbable scenarios, we pull into Frank’s property, my car of course, perfectly fine.

  “Now here comes the fun part.”

  “The fun part?” Valerie asks as Frank shifts his truck into park and shuts it off.

  “Yeah.” I snort. “What can be more fun than this?”

  “Well, you see that garage back there? That’s where I plan on getting our work done.”

  “And we’re the ones who have to get it back there,” I say flatly, filling in the blanks.

  “Yup, but it’ll be more a joint effort, one person’ll be operating the wheel. Everyone else will be pushing that sucker back, my son included…the older one. I’m gonna go see if he’s up so we can get things rolling.”

  “Cool, sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ll be back in a second. You guys can maybe stretch your legs or something while I go wake him up. Beats sitting in the car.”

  “You got that right. I had enough of that from driving.”

  I watch Frank as he leaves, his white tee shifting with the faint breeze that always seems to manifest when out in the country. His blue jeans trudge through the gravel despite his brown boots connecting with the ground. Around the cuff of his jeans, there’s a strand broken fabric trailing behind him like a chewed rat’s tail. Splotches of abrasive marks line the back of his upper thigh, too. If I had to guess, that get up of his is his unofficial uniform whenever he deals with cars. It has to be. I doubt he would parade around in public with anything remotely similar if Helen had a say in the matter. She’d probably throw a fit.

  “What has you all smiley out of nowhere?” Valerie asks.

  “Nothing. Just a thought,” I respond, the smirk still evident on my face.

  “Enlighten me.”

  “It’s nothing, really.”

  “Was it about you know who?” She wiggles her eyebrows and shimmies her shoulders with a mischievous smile.

  “What? Blaze? No. Don’t be basic. We’re freaking stranded, dude. Why would I be thinking of him?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs playfully. “Maybe because of that dream last night?”

  Right, the dream where I was moments away from being forced into a life of vampire servitude by a psychotic, blood-sucking rendition of my ex. Tantalizing stuff.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “…On the scale of one to ten, how bored are you right now?”

  “A four. Why do you ask?”

  “It’s not showing at all, but if you must know. I choked.”

  “Huh?”

  “My dream…I choked. Blaze and I were doing a presentation at school, and it didn’t go so well. He did everything perfect, but when it came to me, I froze. I told you it was stupid.”

  “Well, it could mean something. I’ve been reading stuff on dreams and astrology in some newsletter I signed up for. It has some interesting stuff.”

  “You mean click-bait? I doubt there was anything important about last night. It was probably because of what’s been going on—the trip and everything. You did mention him in the car at one point…but if you must know, I was laughing at the thought of Frank walking around in his work gear in public. You saw what he was wearing, right? Can you imagine if he showed up to visit his wife in public or something? They work in a restaurant. I don’t know. It was funny to me. They’re super country but also businessy, I guess. It’s kinda cool.”

  “You do know that farmers are business people, too, right? Since like, forever. I’m sure they know the tricks of the trade by now.”

  “Eh.”

  The back door to the house swings open and I direct my attention towards the sound. A lanky teenage boy groggily shuffles through the gravel as he rubs his eyes. It doesn’t take him long to stop in his tracks.

  “Didn’t expect to see a Mustang, did ya?” I ask as I shift my weight. “It’s a GT. You here to help?”

  “Yeah,” he says as he walks towards the two of us. “Yeah, I am.”

  “I’m Sailor, and that’s Valerie. We’re your house guests that you’ve pleasantly been avoiding.”

  “Don’t mind her. She’s harmless. What’s your name?”

  “Trent.” After he answers Valerie, Frank emerges from the front side of the house and walks our way.

  “Oh! I see you met my boy. I didn’t think he would beat me out the door.” He laughs, and Trent glares at him in the universal way all children do to their parents. Of course, Frank doesn’t seem to care. “Ready to get this over with?”

  “Yup.” Frank unclasps my car from his hitch and goes to park his truck in the front of his property while Valerie ventures into the driver’s seat of my vehicle. “Put it in neutral, Val. You’re going to have to drive it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I got it. Don’t worry.”

  “Pop the hood release once we get whe
re we’re going, too.”

  While everyone’s getting situated, Trent pulls out a set of keys and goes to his dad’s work shed. A few moments later, Frank returns just as his son returns to my side. “All right, let’s get to it,” he says after tapping the body of my car and walking towards the trunk. “I got the middle. You two get a hold on one of the sides and push when I push. I glance at Valerie as I pass by my front window and she flicks a thumbs up my way with raised eyebrows. She really has a thing against exerting anything above the bare amount of energy at any given time. “We’re going to push it in, but not all the way since we’re not backing it in. I’m going to need some extra space to work.”

  At Frank’s command, we shove our weight against my car in tandem, slowly pushing it along the gravel road. With three people it’s not as bad as I expected. I put in my fair share of work, but Frank’s definitely doing most of the pushing. He’s not the fittest guy in the world, but that whole fathering instinct thing is in full gear, so he’s trying his best to spare us as much as he can from the agony that is car-pushing.

  Eventually, the car ends up in the shed/work garage hybrid, perfectly parked dead-center.

  “All right, so what now?” I ask after wiping the sweat from my forehead. “Jack it up and take a look?” A faint coat of sweat had surfaced during our car-cardio session, but only because I’ve been taking it easy. It wasn’t necessarily a hard task, just unexpected. I probably could have done it myself with no problem if I wanted. Pushing cars isn’t exactly something you need to tap into the forces of darkness to handle.

 

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