Running On Empty

by Colette Ballard

  “Yeah, but I don’t know, it was just weird. It’s probably stupid for me to care. I mean, I should be happy for him.”

  Kat pressed her lips together, trying to contain a smile.

  “What?” I scowled. “Why the smiling?”

  Kat scooted her cereal bowl away and reached for her pack of cigarettes. “I wondered how long it would take for you to figure out how you really felt about that guy.”

  I figured out how I felt about Justice years ago, but due to a string of past rejections, I’d buried it. Or tried to. And I wasn’t ready to admit anything—not to myself or out loud. Feelings meant pain, and I didn’t need any more of either one. “Well, obviously I care about him a lot…he’s one of my best friends.”

  Kat raised her eyebrows. “You’re fooling yourself if you think that’s all he is—look at you.”

  I pretended to read the back of the cereal box. “I’m just mad because he hasn’t been to see me this morning—to see how things went yesterday with the Banards.”

  “You said his girlfriend was there. Did you want him to bring her along?” Kat asked.

  Good point, but still.

  Kat tapped out a cigarette. “And if you were so anxious, why didn’t you stop by his house to tell him about it last night?”

  “I fell asleep, and I wasn’t really awake until the chief dropped me off here.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “And I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t stop, because she spent the night.”

  “How do you know that if you weren’t really awake when you passed by last night?” Kat held her cigarette to her lips.

  “Why else would she be there so early this morning?” I snapped.

  Kat grimaced and clicked her lighter. “True.”

  “I just think if he’s that serious about her, he shouldn’t have let me sleep in his bed, or wear his shirt, or cook breakfast…” I snatched the box of cereal and grabbed a handful, “or be so damn nice to me.”

  Kat’s eyes twinkled like the fire on the end of her lit cigarette. “Back up a minute—sleep in his bed?”

  I threw a Cocoa Puff in the air and caught it in my mouth. “Don’t get excited. He slept on the couch.”

  A dull cloud replaced the twinkle in Kat’s eyes. “Oh.”

  Heaviness curled my shoulders and I sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why do I even care?”

  “It’s pretty obvious, really.” Kat winced. “Hate to admit it, but maybe you’d better do something before he falls in love with that girlfriend of his.”

  “From the way he kept kissing her, I’d say he already has.” I reviewed all the evidence that proved it.

  “I said love, not lust—two very different things.” Kat wiggled two fingers.

  Billi Jo walked over, rubbing her eyes. “What did I miss?”

  Kat smirked. “Oh, I think River is finally getting a taste of what it feels like to be in Justice Braden’s shoes.”

  I frowned at her.

  “Duh,” Billi Jo said, smoothing her hands over her messy bleached hair, “like when you were dating other guys and he had to sit back and watch.”

  I made a little huff sound. “He never cared about me dating anybody other than Logan.”

  Kat pointed her cigarette at me. “Think again.”

  “When was the last time you had your eyes examined, or your head?” Billi Jo snapped Kat’s cigarette out of her fingers and took a long draw, smoking it down to the filter. “So obvious,” she mumbled, holding in the smoke.

  Kat inspected her hair for split ends but gave up when she couldn’t find any. “River, for somebody as smart as you, you are definitely lacking in social skills. How could you not have picked up anything from me? Even Billi Jo is better than you at catching guys.”

  “Ouch,” I said.

  “Yeah, I am.” Billi Jo nodded proudly, and then gave me a look of pity.

  “Give it a little while. He’ll come down here,” Kat said.

  “He has to go to work. Besides, I said some things.” I threw another Puff in the air, caught it, and crunched. “I might’ve been a jerk.”

  Billi Jo’s eyes widened. “He’ll be back in a few days, though, right? I mean, we’re staying on his property; he’s our only resource for beer and cigarettes…and food. He has to come check on us eventually, right?”

  “I hope he doesn’t,” I grumbled.

  “Of course you don’t,” Kat and Billi Jo chimed with a synchronized eye-roll.

  “By the way, Billi Jo,” I changed the focus, “you did a real nice job picking out clothes for me last night—no shirt and your giraffe jeans. When I got out of the shower—”

  Billi Jo squinted. “Huh?”

  “The clothes you sent for me via Justice—you forgot a few things.” I caught sight of a smirk on Kat’s face and turned to her. “You…did that on purpose.”

  “Maybe.” Kat shrugged. “So, what did you end up wearing? Please tell me you wore the white lace bra and panties—only.”

  “His old flannel shirt.” I popped another Cocoa Puff in my mouth.

  Kat curled her lip. “I’d hoped you’d be a little more creative than that.”

  I bit my lower lip, trying not to smile. “I think it nearly gave him a heart attack anyway.”

  “Then my plan was a success.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m your only hope for romance. Someday you’ll thank me.”

  “Well,” Billi Jo clapped her hands together, “I think this calls for a beer run.”

  “I doubt Charlie would approve of us spending our money on alcohol,” I said.

  “He might not approve,” Billi Jo said, putting her hand on her heart, “but he’d understand.”

  Kat scowled. “You can’t go out in public—”

  “You are speaking to the master of disguise.” She thumped the bill of a camo fishing hat.

  “No, Kat is. You’re the master of ugly hats and everything weird,” I pointed out. “And besides, you can’t go out in broad daylight to get beer. Are you crazy?” I put my hand up. “Never mind, I know the answer to that.”

  “Okay, okay. Beer might be pushin’ it, but I need cigarettes.” She held her last pack of cigarettes to her cheek.

  “Ever think this might be a good time for you to quit?” I scolded.

  She picked an empty bag of Twizzlers off of the table and shook it upside down. “Mmm, coming down from sugar and nicotine at the same time—could get ugly.”

  I got up and went to the cabinet for the money jar. “All right, I’ll ask Justice to pick up cigarettes and Twizzlers, but no beer. Got it?” I stuck the money in my pocket, and then remembered something. “Come to think of it, though, he used to keep a hidden stash below the kitchen sink…”

  “Why didn’t you say so already?” Like lightning, Billi Jo ran for the sink and began digging behind the cleaning supplies and paper towels until she unearthed a case of Old Milwaukee’s Best.

  Billi Jo had the beer unpacked and loaded into the fridge by the time the screen door squealed shut behind me. All the way to Justice’s house, I concentrated on my breathing and rehearsed my lines.

  When he came to the door wearing only a pair of worn-out jeans, my lines slipped off my tongue and into the mud beneath my tennis shoes. As hard as I tried, my eyes could not help but sweep across the well-defined chest and abs in front of me. Dammit.

  One side of his mouth pulled up as he inched the door open wider. “Wow, this might be the fastest apology from you ever.”

  “I didn’t come here to apologize.” I eased past him through the doorway to stand on the kitchen rug, because suddenly the air was humid and sweltering and I needed some AC. Stat. “I came to ask a favor.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Seems like the two should go together—apology first, favor second.”

  I tried to ignore the scent of Irish Spring wafting off of his body and reached in my back pocket for the money. “Could you please pick up a carton of cigarettes and a couple b
ags of red Twizzlers for Billi Jo?”

  He held out his hand to accept, and when I placed the money in it, he wrapped his fingers around my mine. His touch was gentle and warm, and it made my stomach weak. I looked up into his eyes to read his expression and saw that he was no longer teasing. “River, we need to talk.”

  My heart pounded in my ears so loud I could barely distinguish it from the knock at the door.

  With his index finger to his lips, Justice stepped over to the kitchen window and brushed back the curtain enough to reveal a cop car sitting in the driveway. The blood drained out of my face and my hands started to tremble. It wasn’t Carl’s.

  “Just a minute,” Justice called out to the officer, and then pointed for me to hide in the laundry closet.

  With my head spinning, I tiptoed into the closet and maneuvered myself between the washing machine and the clothes hamper. The kitchen door creaked, and I heard Justice say, “Hello, Sheriff, what can I do for you?”

  “Justice, I hate to bother you again, but I’m just makin’ sure you haven’t heard anything from your friend River. You know there’s a widespread manhunt for her, and I don’t think I need to remind you that if you have any contact with her, you are required by law to report it.”

  “Yes, Sheriff. Last time you were here you made that perfectly clear.”

  I put my head between my knees, and with long, deep breaths, I tried to ease the nausea. If the sheriff bothered to look closer, he might glance out the kitchen window and notice the fresh tire tracks leading to the cabin’s overgrown drive, or the slight scent of honeysuckle that lingered in the air even though it wasn’t in season. Or worse, he might see the fresh, slightly muddy, size eight tennis shoe prints I must’ve trailed straight to the laundry closet.

  “Well, it appears she and her band are on the move again. We got word that they’re headed north, but that could change. They might be desperate and try to contact you or anybody else that might help them.” He paused, and then cleared his throat. “And Justice, remember she’s wanted for first-degree murder—it’s not just some petty crime we’re dealing with here. If you help her in any way, it’s called aiding and abetting and it’s punishable by jail time. Your parents are good people, and I don’t think you’d want to put them through that.”

  They were good people. They were all good people, and I hated myself for putting them in this position.

  Justice didn’t hesitate. “I understand, sir, but I haven’t heard a thing.”

  “Apparently, nobody has. Her sister says the same thing as you.” He made a clucking sound. “I just don’t see how they’re doin’ it.”

  After the car engine roared away, Justice opened the closet door. “Thank God Dahlia has the most unobservant law enforcement in the state of Texas.”

  When I didn’t respond, he moved the hamper out of the way and held his hand out for me. Instead of accepting his help, I crawled out and stood up on my own. “You didn’t tell me the cops had been stopping by regularly to threaten you.”

  “He’s just doing his job. It isn’t a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, Justice. I told you that before, and you heard him—you could do time for helping me. This is a very big deal.”

  “River, come on, it’s my choice. I’m the one who offered to let you stay here, remember? You never asked for my help.”

  “I don’t know where I’d be without it.” I started for the door, but he got to it before me and held it shut.

  “River—”

  “Go back to your simple life, Justice. Go back to your girlfriend, and breaking horses, and taking care of the farm.” Maybe if I pushed him away hard enough, he’d eventually listen.

  “You cannot disappear again, do you hear me? Your dad all but threatened my life if I let you out of my sight. You owe it to him and your friends to stick around and get this mess straightened out.” His eyes filled with pain, and his voice matched. “Hell, you owe it to me.”

  “You’re right. I owe everybody. I owe them their lives back!” I grabbed the doorknob and yanked, and he hesitantly moved out of my way.

  He shouted after me. “If you step foot off of this property, you’re gonna be in serious trouble!”

  I turned around to face him, feeling like the energy had been drained out of me. “Really? Cause I’m thinkin’ serious trouble can’t get any worse than murder.”

  28

  BOUNDARIES

  Four economy-sized boxes of Cocoa Puffs, three ashtrays full of cigarette butts, two beer can pyramids, and a partridge in a pear tree… Well, maybe not a partridge or a pear tree, but me sitting on this rickety-ass porch for too damn long.

  Since I was given strict instructions by the chief via Justice that I was not allowed to run away, and since Kat disabled my only means of transportation, I’d spent the last three days ingesting garbage alongside my friends while secretly racking my brain for ideas of how to get evidence and end this fugitive bullshit once and for all.

  To make things worse, Justice hadn’t shown up, either. With clear skies and ninety-degree temperatures, maybe he was working longer days. Maybe he was busy with the extra chores on the farm. Yeah, maybe. Or maybe he was busy with her—his girlfriend. No big deal, none of my business. Right?

  I had no control over how he spent his time, but I did have some control over how I spent mine. Actually, I didn’t have much control at all considering my criminal status. So, I could either hole up in the tiny fishing cabin that I now called home or I could take advantage of the beautiful day and drag my sorry butt down to the lake.

  After I went inside and changed into the spare one-piece bathing suit that I’d kept at the cabin, I twisted my hair up in a knot and grabbed a ragged towel.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Kat blockaded the screen door.

  “The dock.”

  Kat glared at my suit. “Not in that, you’re not.”

  I looked down at the pink and blue southwestern print number I’d had since I was fourteen. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Justice will be here today—it’s been three days.” She steered me to her bottom bunk, where she slung her suitcase on the bed. After fishing around a minute, she held up a skimpy black bikini. “Even if he goes back to his girlfriend after today, he’ll still be thinking about you in this.”

  I shook my head. “He is not gonna care what I’m wearing—never has, never will.”

  “He’ll care today,” she said with her signature devil’s grin, and tossed the suit to me.

  I let it dangle between my fingers as I examined it. “Where did you get a string bikini?” Emphasis on string. “You packed this for Vegas?”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled, and she let her suitcase lid drop. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Good point. She’d packed everything else: a wig, glasses, and an assortment of odd clothing. Why not a ball of string? Her selections confirmed my suspicions that she knew all along that our stint in Vegas was never going to be a weekend getaway. Emphasis on getaway.

  Kat snapped her fingers repeatedly and pointed to the bathroom. “Now go take a shower. Your hair is a mess, and don’t forget to shave your legs.”

  Even though the idea of Justice being interested in me was ridiculous, not to mention a disproven fact, I did as I was told. After I put on the bikini, I stretched to look in the small bathroom mirror. It fit good, even though I couldn’t quite fill it out like Kat, and it did look a hell of a lot better than my old one-piece. I slipped the old flannel shirt I’d borrowed from Justice over it and walked out for inspection.

  “Uh-uh, no flannel today.” Kat held out her hand for me to surrender it.

  I twitched away from her. “But he seemed to really like it on me.”

  “He’ll like it better off of you, trust me.”

  Grudgingly, I took it off, draped it around my neck, and inhaled the smell of leather and horses and a hardware store. It would make a nice scented pillow, anyway. “He probably won’t even come today, and
even if he does, it won’t make any difference. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, and that’s how he still thinks of me—as a friend. And I’m not even sure how I feel about him.”

  “Well, I know how you both feel.”

  “Kat, we couldn’t be more than friends if we wanted to. It wouldn’t be fair to Justice—not with all this mess I have hanging over my shoulders.” The thought of him getting into trouble because of me made me feel awful, and the thought of losing him altogether made me feel worse.

  As she urged me toward the door, she patted my back. “Things are going to turn out okay—I feel it. The chief is on this; we just have to be patient while he gets this case together. In the meantime, you can provide us with a little entertainment.”

  I glared at her. “So glad I can be of service.”

  “Uh, hair down.” She pointed at my knotted nest of hair.

  “It’s hot,” I droned.

  “I don’t care. Hair down.”

  Rolling my eyes, I unleashed the mop and damp waves tumbled down my back.

  “He’ll be here. I’m always right about this stuff.” Kat opened the door, and Billi Jo followed with an armful of towels, an old radio, and a cooler.

  After we set up camp at the dock, Billi Jo passed out the last of our sodas, then held up her can for a toast. “To great weather and greater friends.”

  We clanked our cans, took a drink, and settled back on our towels.

  I was half-asleep when something poked me. “Oooh, River, there’s a bee on you.”

  When I stood up, Kat pushed me in the water.

  After I came up for air, I glared at her. “Really, did you have to push me in?” I followed her gaze to Justice, who walked down the long gravel drive toward us.

  I glared at her. “There was no bee, was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Kat motioned for me to come closer. “Listen carefully. Wait until he gets about ten steps away from the dock, then go under the water, come up slowly, and smooth your hair, making sure it’s all nice and slicked back.” She pushed a clump of hair out of my face, demonstrating what not to do. “Then walk up the bank toward him with your shoulders back, head up, and look straight into his eyes. Do not smile at him, do not show any emotion, and most importantly, do not speak…or trip. Then go sit down on the dock, like so…” She gave me a quick demonstration of exactly how to sit.