Eventually.
Hopefully.
The driver keeps glancing at me from the corner of his eye. It’s making me a little uncomfortable and I try to ignore him. Finally, he says, “I’m Ed.”
I turn my head toward him and smile. “Hi Ed, I’m Ariel. Thanks for giving me a ride.” That’s a lie. Ariel is a character from one of my favorite Disney movies, but I am starting over and I can be anyone I want. A new life and a new name. Frank always calls me Belle, so no way I’ll use that name.
“You’re awfully young to be hitching a ride.”
I hide my smile when I notice worry lines crinkling his forehead. “I’m almost nineteen,” I lie, again.
He nods, then directs his attention back to the road. “Like I said, you’re awfully young to be hitching a ride.”
I smile, a true genuine smile. I like Ed. He seems like the grandfatherly type with his kind, worried face and soft voice.
We drive in silence for about an hour, maybe two. I drift off to sleep a time or two, unable to fall into that good sound deep sleep. When he pulls into the stock market, he cuts the engine, turns his gaze on me, and says, “This is as far as I’m goin’. The bus stop isn’t too far away. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
My lips curl up at the older man. I’m thankful that he stopped to give me a lift. “Thanks a lot, Ed. I really appreciate it, and don’t worry about me, I’ll be more than okay.”
“You’re welcome, little missy. You be careful out there.”
“I will.” I unclick the seatbelt, step out of the truck, and give him a little wave. I grab the duffle bag by the handle and head up the road.
The sun streaks across the cloudless sky, and I tilt my head up, feeling the first warmth of the day on my face. I smile . . .
The bus station is up ahead, and I follow an older woman inside. “Thank you,” I say as she holds the door open for me.
Plastic chairs line one wall, self-service kiosks line the other. A balding man with wire-rimmed glasses sits in a booth behind thick glass. A couple with a young boy strolls by, pulling two suitcases behind them.
I head over to the kiosk, fill out the required information, and insert cash. It isn’t very hard. With my printed ticket in hand, I walk over to one of the plastic chairs and wait for the hour to pass so I can be on my way.
When it’s my time to board, I keep my head down until I’m safely snuggled away in my seat in the back of the bus.
Chapter One
Present Day
Ariel
“Ariel, can you grab table four’s drinks for me? Thanks.” Alina whisks by with a tray in her hand.
I grab the drinks, place them on a drink tray, and head over. “Who got the Coke?”
“That would be me.” The brown-haired man flicks his wrist as he speaks.
I set the Coke down in front of the man and then smile at the woman. “So this must be yours.” I place the water in front of her, and she offers me a slight smile of thanks. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
The man flashes me a smile. “I think we’re good.” I nod, turn, and head for the bar.
“Cover for me, Ariel?”
“Sure thing, Jimmy.”
“Thanks.” He grabs his smokes and heads toward the back door.
We are busy tonight, but it’s not overwhelming. I can easily manage the bar on my own. Three men saddle up on the open stools. The one on the right with black spiked hair holds up three fingers. “Coronas!” he shouts like I’m across the room.
Shaking my head, I grab three bottles of Coronas and head over. “IDs,” I say before handing them over.
He reaches into his wallet, pulls out his driver’s license, and holds it in front of my face. Just as I reach for it, he quickly pulls it back. “You look much younger than I do. Are you sure you’re old enough to work here? Behind the bar?” He raises an eyebrow, and I want to smack the smirk from his face.
I scoff at his overused line, the one I’m sure he thinks is clever. In southern belle mode, I tilt my head slightly, smile, and say in a sugary sweet voice, “Are you sure you even want these Coronas? As bartender, I can refuse service to anyone.” And Tommy will have my ass, but I leave that part out.
He narrows his eyes at me and his face twists in annoyance just before he hands over the driver’s license. I glance down at the birthday, hand it back, and then look at the other two with him. “Yours too.”
Without the lip service this time, they hand them over, and after I make sure they are old enough, I pass the guy and his buddies their beers.
Customers filter in and out all night, but it’s slow for a Wednesday night. Nothing out of the ordinary and I serve drinks until Jimmy returns from his break.
The evening turns to late night, and when our two o’clock closing time comes, everyone has left except for one guy sitting in the corner.
Jimmy calls out to the guy who sits nursing his drink. “Hey man, closing time.” When the guy looks up, it’s easy to see the glazed, unattached look in his eye.
The look I’ve seen so many times. He’s drunk, and I can’t help wondering what happened in his life. He looks mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair. I imagine his wife telling him he wants a divorce, so now he’s here drowning his sorrows in liquor. It happens . . .
“I’ll hail you a cab.” Jimmy helps the guy out of the chair and out the front door. A couple minutes later, he strolls in shaking his head.
“You put him in a cab, Jimmy?” Alina asks as she waits with me by the bar.
“Yep, but I doubt he’ll remember any of it.”
“Good. I’m glad this night is over,” Alina says in her Italian-New York accent as she pulls off one of her high-heeled shoes and rubs her foot. Her long, shiny black hair falls across a slender shoulder.
“It wasn’t so bad,” Jimmy says and gives us his handsome, mischievous grin. The grin that has all the ladies lined up at the bar, hoping to gain his attention. That and his thick dark hair that curls at the ends, dark skin, and dark eyes. Jimmy’s a looker and he uses it to his advantage.
I quietly wipe off the bar and listen to the two of them chat. We’re friends, but I prefer to listen instead of speaking. Most of the time.
“Hey, Ariel?”
I glance up at Alina, who stands with a rag in her hand. “Yeah?”
“Got plans Friday night?”
I shake my head. “Just workin’.”
I worry a little when Alina and Jimmy glance at each other and grin. She walks over to my right side, Jimmy slides up against my left.
“Tommy gave us the night off.”
I crinkle my nose. “All of us?”
“Yes,” Jimmy smiles, showing his perfect white gleaming teeth. “We told him that someone’s having a birthday.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “And . . .” he slings his arm around my shoulder, “it’s someone’s twenty-first birthday.”
Crap! Just once I wish they would forget my birthday. In two months, I turn twenty, but my driver’s license says that on Friday I’m turning twenty-one.
When I first moved here, I had to purchase a fake ID, along with a birth certificate and social security card. It wasn’t easy, and I had to visit some shady places until someone pointed me to someone else, who then sent me to Big Jon, a large man with tattoo-covered arms, the markings climbing his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. Scary, but I pressed on and paid him for the documents. Besides giving him a fake name, I didn’t want to use my real birthday month or day just in case Frank, or the goons he works for, comes looking for me. Better to be safe than sorry.
“We don’t have to go anywhere, you guys.” I grab the broom and start to sweep.
Alina grabs the broom handle, holding it in place. When I look up, she says, “Are you out of your mind?” She even lets go of the broom and adds a dramatic flair as she waves her hands in the air like a crazy person. “It’s your twenty-first birthday. Of course we’re taking you out!”
Jimmy folds his arms across his
chest and stares, making me a little uncomfortable. “What’s your deal, Ariel?” He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes, studying me.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t go out, you never talk about anyone in your life. Hell, I don’t even know where you lived before you moved here.”
Alina moves over to stand by Jimmy and crosses her arms to mimic his stance. “I never thought about it, Jimmy, but you’re right. All she ever talks about is what movies she watched over the weekend, or people here at the bar.” They both stare, as if they are expecting an answer.
My two closest friends stare at me with suspicion. They’re right: I never talk to them about my old life, and they’ve never really noticed before. I do have one person I talk to, sort of, and that’s it. At least he’s safe. I think. Besides, if Jimmy and Alina know too much, they could be in real danger if Frank or the others find me.
I shrug one shoulder, dismissing their accusations as nonsense. “Don’t be crazy. You both know me.”
“No, we don’t,” Alina insists. “You never talk about anything, and . . .” her eyes widen as she asks, “have you even been on one date since you’ve moved here?”
Jimmy doesn’t give me time to answer as he fires question after question at me. “Where are you from?”
“Down south.”
“Brothers and sisters?”
“No.”
“Parents?”
“Dead.”
“Grandparents?”
“Dead.”
He laughs, but it holds no humor. “The perfect answers for someone hiding from something, or someone. Damn, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “So, which is it?”
My face heats as a blush rushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. “What are you talking about?” I try to sound convincing, but judging by the knowing gleam in his eyes, I don’t think I am.
“Very well, keep your secrets.” He points a long slender finger at me. “But Friday night, we’re going out. Me, you, and Alina.”
“Fine,” I huff. Anything to end this. I hate it when they make me the center of attention. Jimmy nods and then gets back to cleaning up.
I finish sweeping while Jimmy places the chairs upside down on the tables. Alina quickly wipes down the bar and the tables.
We step out into the alley and Jimmy locks the door behind us. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a cigarette and lighter. Placing the cigarette between his lips, he strikes the lighter and lights up, the end glowing red as he inhales. All three of us head for the subway. The streets aren’t crowded, but a few other people are also heading for the subway. I’m always happy to have Alina and Jimmy walk with me.
“Ariel, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, Alina.”
“Just answer yes or no, and I promise not to ask anything else.”
I hesitate. That sounds like a loaded question, one I’m not sure I’ll answer. My eyes slide to Alina briefly. Without her and Jimmy, I don’t know what I would’ve done. They taught me how to survive the big city. I owe them both so much.
“Okay. Maybe. Just ask.”
“Are you really turning twenty-one?”
I clear my throat to gain a little time as I think about her question. How many times have I been asked how old I am? It doesn’t help that I dress in baggy clothes, don’t wear make-up, and keep my hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Jimmy remains silent but I know he strains to hear my answer. Should I tell them? I trust them, and it’s just an age. Technically, I became an adult when I turned eighteen, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Right?
I sigh loudly. “No, I’m not.”
“I knew it!” Jimmy shouts before pinning me with a laser stare. He inhales, and then blows the smoke in an upward direction. “How old are you?”
“You said you wouldn’t ask.” I fold my arms and purse my lips.
He chuckles. “No I didn’t. Alina did.”
“Whatever!” I throw up my hands and mumble under my breath. It’s hard to break old habits, and even though I feel safe most of the time, I don’t need to be complacent. Eyes open, always.
“Well?” he presses.
We start to slowly walk down the alley. I can see Jimmy throwing glances at me, waiting on an answer.
Finally, I say honestly, “I’m not going to tell you. I shouldn’t have admitted to that earlier.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, Alina.” I inhale a long deep breath and exhale slowly. “Let’s just say that the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
Jimmy grabs my arm and halts my steps.
“Ariel, I can help you. I know people who can help you. If you’re in trouble . . .”
“I’m not.” I give him an easy reassuring smile. “I promise.”
He searches my eyes, no doubt looking for the truth. His brilliant eyes registers understanding, and it’s then I know he understands, that his previous guess was exactly as he thought.
I’m running. Hiding. And as long as I keep my mouth shut, I can stay safe.
I hope.
“Promise me that if you get into trouble, you’ll let me know.” His eyes bore into mine with a fierceness that makes me feel a little safe. Protected.
Finally, I nod. I will absolutely ask Jimmy for help if I ever need it.
We continue to walk down the street. Alina and Jimmy chitchat, but I ignore them as I savor the feel of the outdoors. I think about the night, the gaseous smell from cars passing by filling the air, the sound of blaring horns. This truly is a city that never sleeps, and so different from where I grew up.
Heading down to the subway, we each go our separate ways. I take the F train over toward the Lower East Side. I hate being out this late by myself, even though it’s a common occurrence because of my job.
With my earbuds in, I occasionally glance at the man a few seats away. He’s an older man with dirty clothes, his head hanging low on his shoulders while he sleeps. I wonder if he has a place to live, somewhere to call home. Maybe he’s a veteran living on the streets. With an inward grimace, I don’t look at him anymore.
When the subway stops, I bolt from the train and head up the steps. The few people I pass are staggering home, or maybe to another bar. The smell of pot drifts from somewhere, along with the sound of male laughter. I hurry to my little apartment. Down four steps to the red door with 115 on the front.
Bolting the door behind me, I’m thankful to be hidden away in my apartment. It has everything I need. A worn brown couch, a kitchen with a black stove, a black refrigerator, and small microwave sitting in the corner. One bedroom and a small bath. Perfect for someone living on their own.
I kick off my shoes and head for the shower. The warm water washes the grime from work away, making me feel clean. After toweling off, I slip on my nightgown, grab my laptop, and head for bed. I won’t lie; this is my favorite time of day, or night.
Altruist always puts a smile on my face.
Chapter Two
Ariel
Climbing into bed, I prop up against some pillows, fire up the laptop, and click on Tor Messenger.
Are you up? I type and hit enter.
Yes, comes the instant response. Busy day?
Busy and tiring, I thought the shift would never end. After typing the words that are so true, I rub my forehead to ward off the sleepiness. Yours?
Just the same ole stuff.
Hmm . . . I don’t know much about him, and he doesn’t know much about me. I met him on a discussion forum, where he argued about movies. He apparently hates all my favorites, and I felt it was my duty to defend each and every one of them. Eventually, we moved our discussion to Tor for a more private conversation.
At first I was skeptical, afraid to build any kind of relationship, even if it was online. But I gave it a try. We talked not only about movies but also about books, which ones we enjoyed, which ones we didn’t. Somewhere along the way, he became i
mportant to me. A constant in my life, and every night I look forward to talking to him, no matter how brief our conversations are.
LOL! I can’t imagine what that is. How’s Elena?
When we first met, he made sure I understood that he only wanted conversation. No meetings, no hookups, which was music to my ears. I didn’t want any of that. Just for good measure, he told me he had Elena to keep him company. If Elena’s her real name. Probably not.
Ahh . . . we decided to give it a rest for a while.
You broke up?
(Shrugging here) What else could I do when I caught her with someone else?
No, you didn’t!
Yes, I did. I got off early for work and decided to surprise her.
I bet she was surprised.
LOL, that’s an understatement. I literally caught them in the act.
Oh, man. I’m so sorry.
Don’t be. It’s all good. What’s happening with you?
I don’t know how he can be okay with catching his girlfriend having sex with some other guy. I’ve never had a boyfriend, so it’s hard for me to imagine the betrayal he must feel.
Friends of mine want to take me out Friday night. I’m not sure I want to go, but I don’t want to hurt their feelings.
They’re just trying to do something nice for you.
I know. But I’m not the clubbing type.
LOL, neither am I.
Sigh, I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.
Maybe you’ll enjoy going out. You never know. What club are they taking you to?
Hmm, they didn’t say. You planning to join us? LOL
Funny.
I scoff as I read the one word.
Do you live in the city, or country? These are off-limits questions, but I can’t help myself. The more we talk the more I want to know.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
I know, but . . .
It’s warm here, but the nights are turning chilly. In the mornings, I like to sit on the front porch swing and drink a cup of coffee.
Mmm, that sounds nice, but I don’t drink coffee unless it’s the only thing available.
What about you? What do you like to do?
The Secrets We Keep Page 2