Chapter 10
Hyde
“I put a change of your clothes in my saddlebag, leave everything else. It’s time to move,” I tell Leslee, having waited until the sleep cleared a little from her eyes. “Don’t turn on any lights. Take the tunnel and I’ll circle around to pick you up.”
She sits up, looking down at the pile of clothes that I place on her lap, the walkie talkie sitting on top of them.
“Do you have my postcards?” Is the only thing she whispers in response to my instructions, and that they’re her top concern sends my pulse through the roof.
I nod, unable to speak. It takes her gentle nudge to make me move so she can do what I asked her to.
Crossing back out to the front room, I keep an eye in the sky for the drone that I saw circling the property at least twice this morning.
With a little luck, the fact that my bike’s in the barn might buy us more time. If the drone is being operated by the same group from the airport, they’ll have my plate number, in addition to the make and model.
“I’m going now,” Leslee’s soft voice comes from behind me. “Why don’t you come with me? We can walk until…”
“No. Get going. Stay in the tunnel until I call you on that,” I tell her, looking down to the radio in her hand. “If you don’t hear from me by nightfall, make your way to that diner in town and ask the waitress to call Alex. They all know her. Keep your head down, but stay there until she comes for you.”
Now, the smart thing for me to do, would be to leave my bike behind and take the old truck that Alex leaves on the property.
But without any idea of when I’ll be back this way, I can’t part with it. Still not seeing the drone, I quickly lock up the house and cross to the barn. Getting situated, I check the skies again and text Alex, letting her know she’ll want to clean out the fridge and apologizing for leaving without cleaning up.
Considering the bedroom reeks of sex, she’s going to give me shit for years to come.
Stopping about thirty yards away from the hidden exit to the tunnel, I give Leslee the all clear and jump on my phone. Whoever’s hunting my Ol’ Lady will be looking for this bike, so a moving van is our best bet for now.
I hand my helmet off to Leslee when she approaches and I nod, more to myself, in appreciation of her silence. Time is of the essence, but it’s when she wraps her arms around me, slipping one of her small hands under my cut that I realize how fast my heart is beating beneath her palm.
In her own way, she’s letting me know she understands that I’m running on adrenaline, and she trusts me to get her through this. With a little luck, we’ll have time to discuss it later.
*
Driving past the truck rental location, I scout the area a bit before deciding to drop Leslee off at a Catholic church that’s just up the road.
Without any way of knowing the reach that this cartel has, I’d rather not leave a trail of witnesses that have seen us together.
“Take my phone,” I tell her, reclaiming my helmet when she slides off the seat behind me. “Call Flint and tell him we’re in Asheville and I’m going to rent a truck so I can load up my bike.”
“What happened back there?” she asks me.
“There was a drone circling the house. Gotta keep moving, babe. Get on inside.”
I soften my brusque words with a quick kiss and smack her ass. Suddenly looking over her shoulder as an image of nun with a ruler comes to mind.
Waiting just long enough for her to open the intricately carved wooden door, I turn back to the rental location and deal with that.
Just under an hour later, I pull the rented truck into the church parking lot and head inside. My pulse kicks up a notch when I don’t see anyone sitting in the pews and I lengthen my stride as I get closer to the altar.
I pause before the four steps separating the pews to where all the holy stuff happens, wondering which way I should go and that’s when I hear her laugh. It’s quickly followed by deeper peals of laughter, and I turn to follow the sound.
“Dammit, Le-Lee,” I mutter after I’ve been standing in a doorway to some sort of office for several minutes, listening to her exchanging Dad Jokes with a couple of priests as they all sip red wine.
“Wait, one more!” The older of the two priests says, acting as though he only just noticed me. “A man walks up to a priest and says, ‘I’m Jesus Christ.’ The priest naturally replies, ‘No, you’re not, my son.’ The man says he can prove it and asks the priest to follow him. They walk a couple of blocks down and enter a bar. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re back again?’ The bartender yells out.”
“That one’s older than she is,” the younger one chides his associate as the three of them chuckle.
“Joe, what did Tennessee?” Leslee asks me with a silly grin on her face.
I take a deep breath and even though I close my eyes before exhaling, I know the two priests are studying me, waiting to see if I’ll bite. “The same thing as Arkansas. Gentlemen, I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to get on the road.”
“Ms. Sorenson, it’s been a delight! Now, you have my number, be sure to text me and if we can help you with accommodations, we will,” the older priest says, standing to shake her hand, before turning to pin me with his gaze. “You take good care of this young lady, Mr. Kelly.”
“I intend to,” I reassure him, nodding to each of them as Leslee reaches out for my hand. It’s not easy, but I wait until we’re outside before I ask, “What the hell just happened there?”
“Well, you told me to call your dad,” she starts, and my eyes widen at her referring to Flint as my dad. I mean, he is the closest thing I have to one, but I’ve never called him anything but his given name. “And he recommended that we stay south until we’re past Texas then cut north. When I hung up with him, I noticed the older priest and it turns out his last name is also Kelly. He’s visiting from the Boston area and when I looked confused, he told me that the Catholic Church owns a lot of property—besides the obvious, they have retreat houses and homes for their priests and nuns. So, I took a chance and asked him for confession.”
“Did you become Catholic in the last four years?” I ask, somewhat dumbfounded by this whole explanation. Hell, Ma’s Catholic so I can live with that, I’ve just never found the Sorensons to be particularly religious.
“He didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t, so I told him a very abbreviated version of events and asked if there were any places along our path that might take us in for a night. I mean, a random rectory has to be better than a hotel that would have cameras, right?”
“That’s fucking genius, Le-Lee,” I murmur, leaning over to kiss her.
“I thought so,” she agrees, looking proud of herself as she pats my knee. “Anyway, Father Kelly said that Father Thaddeus was a veritable expert on the subject. And that’s when we caught him opening the wine—he didn’t skip a beat, just pulled out two more glasses and filled me in on possible places to stay. I forget who let out the first pun but once that cat was out of the bag, there was wine and more jokes.”
“You are unbelievable.” I can’t help but continue to shake my head at the turn of events. “I shouldn’t be surprised though, you were never shy about talking to anyone.”
Leslee
Five hours later, I wake up when Joe pulls over for gas. Slowly sliding out of the truck, I step into Joe’s embrace.
“Sorry I crashed,” I whisper against his chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. I wouldn’t mind a break if you’re good to drive for a while.”
“Of course. Is it alright for me to run in for a pit stop?” I ask, pulling my hood up over my head.
He grabs his wallet, giving me some cash to pay for gas and snacks. I take care of things as quickly as possible and when Joe heads for the bathroom, I start texting Fr. Thaddeus.
Checking the GPS, I work out the best option that the priest has for us.
“What are you doing?” Joe growls, reaching for the phone when he opens the passenger door.
“I needed to coordinate where we could stay, not to mention the GPS,” I snap back, crabby from the crick in my neck and not liking his tone. Until… “Crap. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“It’s okay, I’m going to pop the sim card out, so we don’t slip up again,” he replies, kindly saying ‘we’ instead of pinning the mistake on me.
“It’s a hike, but I want to get closer to home. The place we decided on is in Colorado. I figure, we split the drive time with one more break and we can, hopefully, sit the rest of this shitshow out at this retreat center.”
“Y’know, I keep waiting for you to have a meltdown. For this to be too much for you, but you just keep impressing the fuck out of me. I should have reminded you not to use the cell and I’m sorry for raising my voice to you,” Joe apologizes, leaning across the cab to kiss my cheek.
I turn my head to properly kiss him, letting him know, without words that I know I screwed up and will be more careful.
“I am scared, Joe. I’m worried about my family, and now you, since you’ve been dragged into this. Every time I close my eyes, I have to push aside the image of Parks crumbling to the ground,” I whisper my fears against his lips and he tightens his arms around me. “But if I focus on all the things that could go wrong, I’d curl into a ball and be absolutely useless. Anyway, I’d like to reserve the right to have a breakdown when everyone is safe again, deal?”
“Deal.” He smiles like he wants to say something else, but he stays silent for another moment. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Yeah, why don’t you get some sleep?”
“You need to keep an eye…”
“I know, watch for tails and drones, and lions and tigers and bears,” I cut him off.
“Brat.”
*
Waking up in the small dark room, I immediately freeze—until I remember where we are, and why I’m alone. Then I hear the scratching that must have woken me up.
Arriving at the retreat center after a long day on the road, we were informed that we could have separate rooms. Even Joe was too tired to argue. Then we saw the tiny rooms with single beds and a small sink, before understanding that even if we were married, we would have been given our own rooms.
When my door cracks open and Joe sticks his head inside, I let out a sigh of relief.
“The lock is so damn old, I’ve never picked that kind before,” he whispers, coming over to sit on the side of the bed. “Make room for me?”
I let out a snort. While he’s a few inches shorter, and not as broad as my dad, he’s still a large man.
Moving until my back is against the wall, I watch in amusement as he fits most of his body on the remaining space, then throws a leg over my hip.
“I didn’t like sleeping without you,” he whispers when we’re nose to nose on the pillow.
His admission makes my heart leap and I reach over to cup his cheek with my palm, just before I kiss his nose.
“What’s going to happen when we get home?” I give voice to the thought that’s been bothering me for days.
“I’ll claim you properly, get you a cut, and then find a place for us to live,” he says, glossing over the part of the story where my parents flip out. “I’ve been renting my house since I left and there’s like five months to go on the current contract. I don’t feel right about trying to end it early and it’s pretty small, anyway.”
“You’re going to find a house for me?” I slowly repeat the last part of his statement.
“I mean, it might take some time to put in the bunker and escape tunnel of your dreams, but I figure I can get us a nice three or four bedroom. Y’know, something we can grow into. I’d like a private outdoor space; hot tub, grill and smoker, all that stuff.” His list tells me that he’s put some thought into this, and I smile at the thought of filling up those bedrooms.
“You do remember my gram, don’t you?” I ask, smiling at the thought of Mom’s grandmother. He clicks his tongue at me in reply. “Well, she left me some property and if you like it, maybe we build our house? A bunker for me and the backyard of your dreams?”
“Damn. I’d forgotten,” he says with a chuckle. “She and Flint were always trying to snap up properties before the other found out about them. There was a time or two he’d be cussing up a blue streak and Ragnar would just start howling along with him.”
Bree’s dog never needed much reason to start barking, and as loud as he was, Ragnar was just the sweetest boy. Fondly remembering him, I decide to add on to our list.
“Maybe when the dust settles, we can try to find a Norwegian Elkhound, like she had?” I ask him.
“We’ll find a place to rent, then build a place on your land with a doggie door to the backyard,” he quickly agrees before letting out a deep breath. “When we get back, you should start calling me Hyde.”
“No, I’m not. Besides, I’ve never heard Bree call you that.”
His smile fades and a shadow crosses his face.
“How did you get your road name?” I ask, never having questioned it before.
“Back when you were a peanut, I was in that accident. You’ve heard about that, right?”
“Yeah, a pile-up during a snowstorm and the doctors didn’t think you’d ever be able to walk again.” I repeat the basic facts that I had heard years ago. “But you fought through it and later took up running.”
“That’s the version you heard?” His twisted grin tells me that I was told a fairytale. “I was more dead than alive when they got me to the hospital. I don’t remember that part of it, just later on when I finally woke up. Bree, Mom, I mean, was with me through it all. Every day. She never stopped fighting for me, even when I had given up.”
I can’t help the tears that well up in my eyes at the pain I hear in his voice. He swipes his thumbs over them and kisses my forehead.
“I was a shit to her. To everyone really. Mom, Flint, and your dad were the only ones I gave permission to visit.”
“Why my dad?” I ask, having a good idea what his answer is going to be.
“Because of his own scars,” Joe chokes out the words. “He was the only one who could really understand how I felt. Gunner never once looked at me with pity, never placated me that ‘I’d be back on my feet in no time’. We talked through my options and when I was tired, he’d give Bree a break and sit next to me, telling me about all the shit the guys were getting up to around the clubhouse.”
“That sounds like him,” I whisper back. When I was old enough, I ran a search on my dad one time. That was when I found out about all the medals he had been awarded while in the service, surprised since he had never talked about them.
“One of the times he stopped by, I was fighting physical therapy and just laying into Mom something awful. I looked up to see him frozen in the doorway. His face was bright red, but that scar stayed white—it was like the old warriors who had painted their faces. He told Mom to leave the room, she fought him, telling him it was alright. That I was just in pain and that everyone needed to calm down.
“He picked her up and put her in the hallway, then secured the door. Now, back then, I was still a bit nervous around your dad on a good day. He clamps his hand around my leg and tells me that he’s certain, with the right amount of pressure, he could snap my fibula. Then he started squeezing.” Joe barely pauses, even as I feel a chill go through his body. “I’m pretty sure I started crying, I don’t fucking know, what did occur to me was that if I could still feel that much pain, then, somewhere inside of me I must have enough strength to walk.”
“What happened next?”
“He told me that if he ever heard me speak to Bree like that again, he’d rip my tongue out of my mouth. The next morning when I woke up, instead of Bree on the window seat, Flint had pulled a chair up next to my bed.” Joe doesn’t try to hold back the grin that splits his face. “Suddenly, Gunner didn’t seem so scary.”
“So, Hyde is because Flint threatened your hide?”
“Allegedly it’s as in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. You may have noticed I’m a pretty even keel kinda person, so the moral was to keep my monster under control,” he tells me. “But yeah, it’s a reminder from Flint.”
“And that’s why Bree will never say it,” I conclude, before asking the bigger question. “Now, how are we going to break our relationship to my parents?”
“I’m gonna look Gunner in the eye and tell him you crawled, naked, onto—ouch—my lap—crap, stop that,” Joe laughs as he tries to pin my hands. “And really, what choice did I have when your titties were inches away from my mouth. Fuck!”
The last word explodes from his mouth when his ass hits the floor, misjudging the space he had when I jerked my knee up to squash his dick. Peering over the edge of the mattress, I glare at him and try to pull my wrists free from his grip.
“God, I love you,” he groans, reaching his free hand down to rub his tailbone.
I freeze.
“You do?”
Looking up at me, he stops his inspection of his rear and reaches over to pull me down on top of him.
“In a very different way than I cared about you when you were a kid, yes, Le-Lee. I love you,” he tells me as I straddle his stomach, grinning down at him like an idiot.
“I love you, too,” I needlessly reply before our lips touch.
Just then there’s a knock on the door.
“Ms. Sorenson? I apologize, I heard a crash and wanted to make sure you were alright.” A man’s tentative voice comes from the hallway.
“Yes, Father! I’m sorry, I rolled off the bed,” I fib, trying to place his voice. “Good night, Father Mosley.”
“Oh, and Ms. Sorenson? If you could please turn down the volume of whatever show you’re watching on your device. Many of us are early risers,” he requests, and even with his serious tone, I can picture the good-humored face of the man I met earlier.
“Of course, Father. Sorry about that, too,” I reply, biting my lip against the giggles that threaten to burst forth.
Once there’s silence again, I chance eye contact with Joe.
“You’re going to Hell,” he whispers.
“Come with me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“At least until you get us kicked outta there…” he kisses me as he moves us into a sitting position so we can make our way back onto the bed.
I know there would be so much more space if we would spoon, but I want to see Joe’s face as we continue our conversation.
“Why?” he asks me, referring to my earlier declaration. “You always have cared about me and I’ve never understood it.”
“I’ve thought about this over the past few years and even in my own head it sounds weird. I mean, I’m surrounded by good people who love me, but with you, I think my first feelings were how comfortable I was around you. And happy too. You never minded playing with me, so at some point I started thinking of you as ‘mine’,” I whisper back, focusing on his chin when I get embarrassed by my feelings.
“And when you’re my age? How do you think you’re going to feel about the old man you’re saddled with?”
“I can’t imagine a time that I won’t love you with every part of my soul,” I fervently reply.
“Babe, you have to be prepared for when we get back,” Joe counters, placing a finger over my lips when I try to speak. “Gunner’s going to kick my ass, and I’m going to take it.”
“No,” I growl out. “That’s totally ridiculous. We’ll tell them, they’ll yell, I’ll probably cry and…”
“And then your dad. Is. Going. To. Kick. My. Ass. It’s going to happen. And you aren’t going to say a word about it.”
“I won’t allow it,” I insist, getting a soft chuckle from Joe.
“Now, that’s Riley speaking, through and through,” he retorts. “I’ve always loved how you do everything hard. Love. Fight. Cause mayhem. Laugh. And care about everyone in your orbit…”
“Except some people,” I mumble, thinking of the bitch who got us into this mess.
That comment earns me another kiss. “And hold a grudge.”
“Of all people, Mom and Dad can’t get hung up on our age difference,” I defiantly whisper against his lips.
“The thing that really sucks, is that your mom probably won’t cook for me for a while,” he mournfully pouts.
“I’ll make it up to you.” I seal my promise with a kiss.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but it wasn’t nearly long enough before I wake up.
Do you want to know where the worst place to get your period is?
A retreat house. In the middle of nowhere. Run by Priests.