How could I forget? I still remembered Kat standing in her back yard, wearing her blood-spattered yellow dress. It was the night of our eighth grade formal, but we never made it to the dance. Instead, we spent the night outside the hospital’s ICU waiting to hear if her mom survived her boyfriend’s vicious beating.
“River, you stood by me through that whole thing and for all those months afterwards when my mom stayed in bed fighting depression. She was so angry at me, she refused to speak to me, and it killed me.” Kat always insisted it was her fault that her mom’s boyfriend beat her up, but she would never tell me why. “You were there for me every day. You didn’t know it, but I was suicidal.”
Her eyes glistened with tears as she let go of my face. “You gave me your strength when I didn’t have any of my own. And now I intend to do the same for you.”
I could barely comprehend everything she said. I was used to Kat being the tough one, the leader—it was a rare moment when she shared her feelings.
I put my hand to my head. “But where? Where would we go?”
She motioned her hands outward. “Anywhere but here.”
Billi Jo pulled up in her uncle’s latest junk heap, slid out, and popped the trunk. “Las Vegas, here we come,” she sang out.
Kat put her fingers to her lips to quiet her.
“Vegas?” My head snapped toward Kat. “Why would we go all the way to Vegas? I assumed we were just going somewhere for a day or two until we figured things out and made a plan.”
Kat glared at Billi Jo, then switched into serious business mode. “Besides the fact that the entire town of Winston is bought and paid for by the Westfield family, this is Texas—they take their football seriously. Logan Westfield wasn’t just the pride of Winston; he was the pride of Texas. You took that away from them. I promise you, there’s going to be a witch hunt.”
“But once things cool down and I explain—”
“River, you and Logan come from two different worlds. If that wasn’t the case, the outcome might be different. Logan was perfect in their eyes. Unless he had some big criminal record, no judge or jury in this state would ever buy the whole self-defense thing from someone like you.”
I never even explained to Kat what happened. “How did—?”
She put her hand on my back, pushing me in the direction of the car. “Not now.”
“We’ve always said someday we’d move to Las Vegas together—it looks like this is as good a time as any.” Billi Jo grabbed Kat’s suitcase and heaved it into the trunk. “Besides, aren’t we already in trouble for aiding the criminal or something like that?”
I pushed Billi Jo’s arm off and made her face me. “Really, you guys can’t come. You’ll be in huge trouble. You have a life here.”
In an instant, Billi Jo turned serious, her deep black eyes begging like a beaten puppy. “River, you know I don’t have a life here. You know I don’t.”
It was true. Billi Jo’s life here ended the day her little brother drowned. From that day on, what pain Billi Jo didn’t inflict upon herself, her parents did for her. Not by physical abuse, but by blatant indifference.
“Please, let me go with you.” Her black eyes darted back and forth between Kat and me. “Please. You guys are all I have.” It was true—we looked out for each other more than most families.
The slightest hint of Billi Jo’s quivering lip sealed the deal. Unable to speak, Kat made circular motions with her hands for everyone to get moving.
Billi Jo grabbed my suitcase and struggled to lift it. “Whatcha got in here, a dead body?”
Kat scowled at her and snatched the suitcase out of her hands. “First of all, lay off the weed. Second, are you sure you’re in? It’s not too late to take your uncle’s car back.”
In an attempt to hide her tear-filled eyes, Billi Jo loaded the last box. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna miss me around here.” She tipped her head. “Well, unless you’re talkin’ about the Monday night poker tourneys with Travis and his GA buddies. They’re gonna miss my weed supply, but they sure won’t miss me takin’ all their money.” She slammed the trunk. “Besides, it’s not like we’ll be gone that long. As soon as we get things straightened out, we’ll figure out a way to get River a fair trial, and then we’ll be able to come back.”
I had no idea if she believed what she said or if was strictly for my benefit, but I felt certain she knew we needed a ray of hope—something to hold onto.
When Kat put her hand on Billi Jo’s arm, she turned to us. “You need transportation, don’t you?” She swiped at her cheeks. “And you two are crazy if you think you’re leaving me here by myself.”
Kat bit her bottom lip a few seconds, then opened the car door. “But this is Travis’ car; he’s gonna be pissed.”
Billi Jo made an attempt at steadying her voice. “He still has his truck, and it’s not like he’d report it stolen or anything. He won it in a card game—not exactly a legal transaction. Plus, I’ll be saving him the trouble of losing it back.”
Kat sucked in a huge breath and looked at both of us. “Alright then, let’s get out of here.” She held the back door open and waved me in. “It’s time to disappear.”
The word disappear caught my attention. It was exactly what I wanted to do—the best idea I’d heard in the last twenty-four hours. Disappear.
8
LEAVING
I half-listened as my friends planned my life. It was like watching a movie about strangers. It was too much to absorb that we were a part of any of this in real life.
“Okay, first things first, we need more money,” Kat said.
“Where we gonna get that? Rob a bank?” Billi Jo laughed. Obviously, her buzz was still going strong.
“Banks are closed.” Kat frowned in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to Hinkley’s Quick Mart.”
Billi Jo stopped laughing. “What for?”
“You’ll see.” Kat’s eyes gleamed, and I recognized the look. It meant she had a plan—a good one.
When we reached the outskirts of town, Kat turned into the lot of the small, tan metal store and pulled alongside the single gas pump. “Billi Jo, fill the tank.” Kat glanced toward the building. “This won’t take long.”
Our heads swiveled toward the store to watch Kat as she glided stealthily toward the plump, balding man at the cash register. Entranced by the mythical creature that appeared before him, he rubbed at his eyes as if he couldn’t quite believe his good fortune this time of night.
Like a hungry dog, he watched as she spoke and ran her fingers through her hair. When it was obvious she had him hypnotized, she went in for the kill. She slowly leaned over the counter in her low-cut top and motioned for him to meet her halfway. He was completely helpless by the time she whispered in his ear.
The spell he was under suddenly lifted and he staggered back a couple steps. Shaking his head, he frowned in disapproval. Kat tilted her head sideways as if trying to understand his reaction, but I knew her well enough to know she understood exactly what she was doing—and enjoyed it.
Wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, he hesitantly opened the register and pulled out a stack of cash. He placed the money in a bag, then added a box from behind the counter. Kat didn’t wait around for him to offer her the bag before she snatched it out of his hands and turned to walk out of the store. On her way, she grabbed something off a display rack, and it sent him over the edge. He started yelling and shaking his fist toward her back, but Kat didn’t miss a beat. Holding up the last item over her head like the girls who hold up the round signs in a boxing match, she paraded out the door. She slid back into the car with the confiscated items and a devil’s grin.
Billi Jo hooked the gas nozzle back on its cradle and raced around to get in the passenger seat. Kat started the engine, put the car in drive, and blew a kiss to Mr. Hinkley as he stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips and his head twitching back and forth.
Billi Jo stared in disbelief. “What the—”
“Just call me Robin Hood—I take from the richer-than-we-are and give to the poor.” She gestured her hands at all of us like she was a salesman showing off genuine diamonds on an infomercial.
Billi Jo’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, really?”
A mischievous twinkle lit Kat’s eyes. “Let’s just say Mr. Hinkley was at my place the other night, and he wasn’t buyin’ Girl Scout cookies.”
As bad as I felt for Kat, it seemed there was a somewhat twisted benefit to having a mother who’s a hooker.
“I told him I would just hate to be at the grocery store one day and run into Mrs. Hinkley with those sweet little boys of theirs. I thought about five hundred dollars, a tank of gas, and a carton of Marlboro Lights would ensure that I didn’t.” Kat snickered to herself and plucked the cigarette carton out of the bag and handed it to Billi Jo.
“You’re the best, Kat.” Our hamster-on-a-wheel friend wasted no time tearing into the carton. Billi Jo’s need to be in constant motion cancelled out her need to preserve her lungs—or brain cells. It seemed the only way for her to get herself in semi-control of her restlessness was self-medication by way of alcohol, marijuana, or nicotine. If we were going to be inhaling secondhand smoke all the way to Vegas, it was a good thing it would be from cigarettes.
Without warning, Billi Jo reached over, jerked the steering wheel, and sent the car fishtailing into a gravel parking lot—Dukes of Hazzard style.
“What the fuck?” Kat yelled as we skidded to a stop in front of a gray, two-story metal building. “A little warning next time!”
A dim security light blinked on, showing off a cheesy, hand-painted sign hanging on the door. It read Ace’s Pawn Shop. Then an even better one on the window, warning Trespassers will be shot, with an exclamation point drawn out of a rifle and a smiley face for the dot.
“I need to get something before we leave town.” Billi Jo unbuckled her seatbelt.
Kat hit her palms on the steering wheel. “Uh, it’s two in the morning; kinda doubt they’re gonna be open.”
“If I’m going to Vegas, I need my necklace.” Billi Jo swung the car door open. “My idiot uncle pawned it after he lost a card game a few days ago. His friend Ace is the owner, so I think I can get it back.”
Kat wrinkled her forehead. “Hate to tell you, Billi Jo, but that’s not exactly the way it works.”
“No, but this is.” She dug down in her pocket and held up her uncle’s old championship football ring. “Fair is fair.”
“Travis is gonna kill you,” Kat and I said at the same time. We knew Travis well; we’d had to listen to many a football story during our Monday night poker sessions. He used to be a big football hero at some prestigious high school until a bad leg injury cut his glory days short, and he turned to gambling to get high.
We also knew how much Billi Jo’s necklace meant to her. It was her little brother’s baby ring on a thin gold chain. It probably wasn’t worth much, but it was everything to her.
“He should’ve thought about that before he pawned my necklace.” She took a step out of the car.
Kat shifted in her seat. “I’ll go with you.”
Billi Jo held up her hand. “No, I should do this alone. He’ll up the stakes if I seem too anxious.”
Kat shouted in a loud whisper, “Really? Because showing up in the middle of the night doesn’t make you seem anxious at all.” Kat put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. “Just hurry up. And be careful.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
Billi Jo was a lot of things, but careful wasn’t one of them. As she hustled up the outside stairs and knocked on the door, Kat rolled the windows down all the way so we could eavesdrop.
Finally, the outside light snapped on and someone who looked to be in his mid-twenties opened the door. The guy I assumed to be Ace stood in the doorway, sporting nothing but a pair of old-school basketball shorts and a mullet—think Napoleon Dynamite with a different hairdo. Had I not been in such a fog, I would have thoroughly enjoyed this spectacle.
Yawning and stretching his arms enough to see ribs, he muttered, “What the heck are you doin’, Billi Jo? Don’t you know what time it is?”
“Listen, Ace, Travis pawned my necklace and I gotta have it back right now.”
“What’s the emergency?”
“Never mind, here.” She thrust the ring at him.
Holding it up to the light, he took one quick look and handed it back. “No way, are you crazy? Travis would kill me and you both.”
“It’ll only be temporary. You know Travis can come up with something to get it back.” I couldn’t see her big, kind eyes from here, but I imagined they looked very pitiful. “You could make money: this ring is worth a hell of a lot more than my necklace. Just give me the necklace and a little cash, and you can still make bank.”
He put his hands up. “No way. I’m not touchin’ it.”
“Come on, Ace, since when do you have morals?” In the glow of the weak porch light, Billi Jo looked like she might throw up. “What’ll it take to make this work?”
With a sly grin, Ace slid a bony finger down her arm as he purred, “I’m sure I could think of something’, sugar.”
“You’re such a weasel.” She swatted him on the arm with the back of her hand. “You’re too scared to take Travis’ ring, but you’d hit on his niece. You’re a genius, Ace, a real genius.”
He shrugged. “Worth a try.”
“Chicken shit!” Billi Jo yelled back at him as she hurried down the steps.
Billi Jo huffed as she rustled around inside her purse and pulled out a plastic baggie. “I know how to speak that jackass’ language!” She rushed back up the stairs before he shut the door.
After about four seconds talking to him, she handed him a bag. He inspected the contents, smelled it, and went back inside. A light went on downstairs in the pawnshop, and in no time, Ace magically appeared with something shiny in his hand.
Billi Jo came down the steps looking half triumphant, half sick as she held out a fifty dollar bill to Kat and got back into the car. She grabbed for the cigarette carton as if it were her oxygen tank, pulled out a cigarette, and fired it up.
“Thanks, Billi Jo, this really means a lot.” Kat stared at the bill as if it was a gold bar.
Billi Jo exhaled. “I know it does.”
It was a touching moment, yet so pathetic it could’ve been funny if we all didn’t know how seriously Billi Jo took her dope smoking. It was a serious act of sacrifice and kindness on her part. Serious.
Ace fluttered his boney fingers as we pulled away. “Nice doin’ business with you ladies!”
Kat and Billi Jo flipped him off accordingly.
Everything seemed like one continuous blur until we were about to pass the Thanks for Visiting Texas sign. Kat pulled over and held up a map (the last of her confiscated items). She announced, “Listen, everybody, this is your last chance to bail. Once we pass the state line, we are in serious trouble.”
Billi Jo choked on laughter and smoke as she angled to face us. “Aren’t we already in serious trouble?” She swatted at the cloud of smoke. “I hate to break it to everybody, but we are on a bit of a crime spree here.”
Kat made a throat-slitting gesture to her, but Billi Jo rambled on. “Starting with the small stuff, no one in this car is eighteen yet, which makes us runaways. And let’s see, Kat, you have a blackmail, extortion, robbery combo—or whatever you wanna call it.” She thumbed to herself. “We’ve got auto theft here, and let’s not forget the sale of an illegal substance.” She rifled through her purse. “Oh, and possession.” She pulled a joint out of her cigarette pack and held it up proudly. “And last but not least…”
“Shut up, Billi Jo,” Kat snapped. “We get it. Still—last chance. Everybody in?”
My friends held out their fists, and when I didn’t respond, Billi Jo reached over the seat, grabbed my fist and bumped it with theirs. It was our sign of ‘all for one and one for all’ we’d been doing since we
were kids. But we’d never done anything that measured anywhere near the insanity of all this.
9
ESCAPE ROUTE
I wiped the back of my hand against the cold morning condensation of the car window, but it didn’t improve my vision. My eyes were heavy like someone was pressing down on them, trying to keep me from seeing what was on the other side of that thick sheet of glass. I could barely make out where the wide-open road ended and the pale blue sky began as they blurred past.
Rubbing my eyes, I struggled to focus when it all came rushing back to me. Flashes of Logan’s smirk, him driving too fast, and an unfamiliar road. Logan on top of me, a rush of pain against the side of my face, a gun and blood, a lifeless body. My stained hands, a gun, it was Logan’s body. I wanted to forget, for the pain to go away, but the throbbing throughout me confirmed everything. My eyelids were lead…
“River, wake up.” Somebody shook my shoulder. “We’re going in to use the restroom and get some food.”
I lifted my lids enough to see that we’d pulled into a tiny, weathered gas station off the main road. “Not hungry,” I mumbled and closed my eyes.
“Come on, you’ve been out of it since we left Texas.” Kat waved her hand in a circular motion, urging me to join her outside the car.
The unpleasant feeling of cotton in my mouth and a full bladder changed my mind.
“We should separate so we’ll be less noticeable.” As soon as the words were out of Kat’s mouth, Billi Jo made a run for it.
I scooted to the edge of the seat, slid off, and with wobbly legs, I managed to stand. “Give me a sec.” I put my hand up and sat back down to keep my head from spinning. My body ached like I’d been run over by a garbage truck—a fate I would’ve preferred.
“Breathe through your nose and out your mouth,” she coached.
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