Chapter 3
Jules
A three-week trip takes far more work than I realized, which is saying something because I move around so much anyways that my belongings mostly stay packed.
I’ve learned I can’t stay in one place for longer than six months without my father’s private investigators getting too close.
And six months is pushing it. So now, I move almost every four months at this point, and I always change up my pattern.
Which really sucks when you finally find a coffee shop you like only to have to abandon it a few months later. This bitch lives for good coffee. There aren’t a lot of things I wouldn’t do for a good cup of joe.
I’ve already packed all the clothing and essentials I need.
Now, Ivy, my personal assistant, and I are working on packing up the equipment we might need while gone.
Sure, this is a collaboration and the men of The Velvet Rodeo should have all the equipment needed, but I’ll still need to post content to my own channel outside of the collaboration.
Plus, if any requests come in, I don’t want to have to use their equipment for it.
“I don’t think we’re going to need the sound booth or anything,” Ivy says before she straightens and wipes the sweat from her brow. “How much sound can the country have anyways?”
I purse my lips. “You know, you’re probably right. I can’t imagine Steele, Wyoming is louder than the city.” I mark off the sound booth from our packing list. “What about the ASMR mic?”
“Oh, for sure. You have that one regular who asks for a video at least once every few weeks. And he’s about due. Plus, he tips well.”
“Right again,” I say, smiling.
Ivy has been a godsend. Not only is she an amazing personal assistant, but she’s also followed me from city to city without an issue and we’ve ended up being roommates to make things easier.
I’d asked her why she was so easily able to move around the country, but she’d only given me a deadpan expression and asked me the same question.
We’ve quietly agreed not to broach the subject again.
She can keep her secrets just as I’ll keep mine.
She’s so damn good at her job, that it hardly matters.
She saves my life and my schedule on the daily. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be.
“Knock knock!” a voice calls from the front door.
“In the recording room, Bonnie!” I call to her, smiling when she appears around the door. “I’ve already got all the clothes packed. Are you sure you’re able to go with us?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” Bonnie beams, the wrinkles around her eyes highlighting her age as she smiles.
She’s still absolutely beautiful, those bright green eyes holding all the soul and fire she’s carried over from her younger years.
From what I understand, Bonnie is quite the activist still despite having been arrested at least a dozen times.
I’m still surprised a badass like her is willing to work with my insane schedule.
“A trip out west to see some cowboys? What kind of lady you think I am that I would miss that?” Bonnie adds with a wiggle of her eyebrows before she disappears.
“Do you want me to help with—” I start.
“Nope! I got it! You just worry about all that fancy equipment,” Bonnie called, before I hear her start rustling around in the other room followed by a giggle.
Ivy levels me with her gaze. “You sure three weeks is doable? We’re almost at the end of our four months here.”
I nod. “When we come back, we’ll start prepping to move. Three weeks in Wyoming will be good for us. It’s fall. Things are starting to slow down. And the middle of nowhere on a ranch in Wyoming seems like the best place to avoid . . . well, you know.”
“Mmhmm,” she agrees, as if she does know. As if I know her reason for running. She grins. “Look at us. Just a couple of mysterious bitches.”
I snort and shake my head. “Yeah. That’s exactly what we are.” I look around and frown. “Have you seen Ratrick?”
Ivy rolls her eyes. “Your rodent is on the kitchen counter chowing down on an apple. Again.”
“He’s clean,” I promise. “Rats are actually super clean. They spend a lot of time cleaning themselves and—”
“Rarely even need bathing. Yes, I know,” Ivy finishes, laughing. “Of all the things you do, I think Ratrick Swayze is the hardest to get used to. A dog would have made sense. Even a cat. But a rat? Only quirky bitches like you get a rat.”
I grin. “At least it wasn’t a tarantula. It was almost that. Or a scorpion. Those are cool, too.”
“Whatever,” Ivy says, laughing. “I swear you and I are opposites when it comes to stuff like this.”
“You could always get a pet yourself,” I offer. “I seriously don’t mind.”
“Nah,” Ivy says. “There isn’t an animal in this world that deserves the likes of me.”
She says it so flippantly, I’m reminded again that there really isn’t much I know about Ivy.
We don’t talk about personal things, especially who we are and where we come from.
I don’t know where she’s from originally, though her accent feels like it’s from the south somewhere.
I’m not the best at placing accents, though.
I don’t even really know if she has family or people she cares about.
She doesn’t seem to have hobbies besides screaming at the men on reality dating shows when they do something stupid.
Usually, I’m there screaming with her though, so we do have that in common.
Who exactly is Ivy? Do I even have a right to ask when she doesn’t even know my real last name?
“So, we’re driving your car, right?” Ivy asks as she finishes zipping up a case of equipment and turns to me. “We know my clunker won’t make it the ten-hour trip to Steele.”
I nod. “Yeah. I already took it to get the oil changed and everything. We should be good to go.”
“Good, good.” She looks around the room. “I’m gonna go make some lunch. You done in here?”
Nodding again, I straighten and shove my hair from my face.
I’m currently sporting soft bangs, a look I’ve grown to love.
The bright purple and yellow colors were hard to get used to, but I love the way it looks with my full body black ink tattoos.
Every time we move, I change my hair color.
I’m going to miss this color combo, I think.
I’m not looking forward to the long drive out to Wyoming, but it’s a necessity.
We can’t exactly fly. With a family like mine, they’d know the moment I stepped foot on an airplane.
My father likely has alerts for that very instance, which means I can’t ever just leave the states.
It would have been far easier to escape to Central America if not for the power my family has.
Albie warned me to stay in the mainland states purely because of my father looking for me. And he knows what he’s talking about.
After all, he’s Dad’s right-hand man now.
I plop down in my office chair and pull up a secure chat before typing up a message.
Hey baby brother. I’ll be in a difference place for three weeks starting tomorrow. A job opportunity came up that was hard to pass. If there’s an emergency, I’ll be in Wyoming.
I hit send and wait. I don’t ever give him the specific place, mostly because he should be able to see his phone location that he gave me.
But it also helps not to write it down. I trust Albie with my life.
But things are fallible. Even the location on his phone is locked behind three passwords and two biometric scans. We haven’t taken any risks.
A message pops through a few minutes later and I smile at the words.
You’re older by three minutes. That hardly makes me a baby. Be safe, Sis.
Three minutes, and I never let him forget it.
That’s what twins do, right? Fight about who’s older.
That’s been the hardest part about being on the run, being apart from Albie.
We were inseparable before I left. Now I haven’t seen him in person in four years.
I’d almost caved a few times and run back home just to see him, but his words of reassurance always keep me sane.
He knows going back home would kill me. He understands why I’m out here.
I close the laptop and tuck it into my backpack before standing and going to the kitchen.
A squeak nearly scares the shit out of me and I panic, thinking I stepped on Ratrick only to realize it’s just a toy.
I sigh and reach down to pick it up before tossing it on the counter.
Ratrick immediately comes over and inspects it, his brown and white fur bright against the counter.
Ivy watches the interaction as I pick him up and offer him my shoulder.
“I thought that was you,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I hope you’re ready for an adventure, Ratrick.”
“You should get him a tiny cowboy hat,” Ivy offers as she eats a spoonful of peanut butter.
“A tiny cowboy hat?” I laugh.
She shrugs. “Everyone deserves to be a cowboy in cowboy country. West Texas isn’t any different when you’re around the big ranches out there.” At my look, she stops her spoon halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“You spend a lot of time in West Texas on ranches?” I ask casually, reaching for the apple Ratrick had been chewing on and tossing it in the trash.
Ivy seems to realize her mistake and narrows her eyes. “Nope. Never been. Just something I heard.” She plops the peanut butter jar on the counter. “Anyways, I gotta pack my clothes. Catch you later.”
And then she leaves me there to wonder about what sort of past she has back in West Texas, and how long it’ll take before she slips information out again.