Chapter 5 Zach
Zach
Walking into a public place with Lauren beside him was surreal. She’d drifted in and out of his reach for years, but she’d always been untouchable.
Now, he could take one half-step to the left and brush shoulders with her.
They were practically breathing the same air, and the proximity had his skin buzzing.
The adrenaline surge was all too close to the feeling of taking that first step into enemy territory or crossing the invisible line of the law.
As soon as the bell above the door jingled, every set of eyes in the room turned to them.
A middle-aged woman wearing a blue shirt, black pants, and a gray apron walked over with a coffee carafe in her hand and grabbed a couple of the laminated menus from a stand by the door. “Welcome to Joey’s. Follow me.”
Zach scanned the diner, noting every face, empty table, and exit.
Laminate surfaces, big windows, and booths bolted into the floor could have distracted him from the looking eyes, but they didn’t.
As ordinary as the diner seemed, it was anything but normal.
Wardens watched him, and so did these people.
Most of his energy went toward blending in and slipping out of sight, and that was one thing that wouldn’t change with his newfound freedom.
Lauren adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder and dutifully marched behind the hostess. What would it be like to blindly follow the leader, thinking all was well as long as you stayed in line?
Lauren slid into a chair at a small booth by the window as the hostess laid the menus on the table. The window looking out over the gravel parking lot was massive without any iron bars to block the view.
“Zach? What do you want to drink?”
He pulled his attention from the mundane view to find Lauren and the waitress staring at him.
“Coffee.”
Resting his back against the seat, he could see the whole restaurant. Chatter continued, but there were still plenty of eyes pointed at him.
Lauren lowered her menu and propped her elbows on the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Her amber eyes narrowed, watching him as if waiting for a telltale sign that would betray him. “Liar.”
Interesting. She wasn’t afraid to call him out when he brushed her off. He picked up the sticky menu and glanced over the pictures of breakfast plates that didn’t look anything like the fare he got in the slammer. “Nobody likes living in a fishbowl.”
Lauren turned to look over her shoulder, fanning her hair out around her. “Nobody is looking at you.”
Zach kept his attention locked on the photo of a two-egg breakfast. “You’re clueless and unobservant. They’re all wondering why you’re here with me and when I’m going to cause a scene.”
Shaking her head, she raised the menu. “You’re wrong. I saw every person in the room within twenty seconds of entering. I know where all the exits are, and I can give you a description of every vehicle in the parking lot. You’re paranoid.” Jerking back up, she added, “And don’t make a scene.”
The room was suddenly too small. If Lauren saw everything, she could see right through him. “We’re half an hour away from the pen, and I’m wearing state-issued clothes. It’s obvious. You, on the other hand, are dressed in business casual like you were born in it.”
She didn’t look up from her menu as she whispered, “Whatever. You’re a free man, but you’re acting like there’s still a chain following you around.”
Not a chain so much as fate. He would always cast a dark shadow wherever he went. It wasn’t something he could fix. It was his life.
“This is why we can’t be friends.”
She finally looked at him with a calm curiosity that only heightened her innocence. “Why? Please tell me more about the social standards you subscribe to despite rioting against all other laws and cultural norms.”
Did she have to say things he didn’t understand? Every time she showed off her big brain, she drifted a little further away from him. “Because we don’t belong at the same table. People will always stare and whisper. Not that I care, but you should.”
“Maybe you’re just full of yourself.” She turned back to the menu, practically dismissing him.
“Says the woman who throws around her academic achievements. How many master’s degrees have you collected again?”
Her grip on the menu tightened a fraction, but she didn’t look up. “Three.”
“Do you even sleep? How do you have a job?”
He might be throwing the degrees around like they were a joke, but one degree was more than he would ever see in his lifetime.
He’d dropped out of high school at seventeen and never looked back.
What would he do with a fancy piece of paper?
They didn’t teach arms dealing in school, and he doubted the chemistry classes covered moonshine distilling.
Those were learned with real-life experience.
Their waitress appeared with drinks in hand and wrote down their food orders before disappearing without another word.
“I like school,” Lauren said, clasping her hands on the table now that she didn’t have a menu to use as a shield.
“We are not the same.” Zach took a gulp of the hot coffee and let the burn sear his insides all the way down. After drinking prison coffee for three years, real coffee was just as much of a treat as the Snickers Lauren gave him. “What do you even do with those fancy degrees?”
“I use them. All the time. My library science degree is required for my job as a librarian, and I hope to get a part-time job using my newest degree soon.”
The way she lit up when she talked about learning and working was something he’d never understand. She was content as could be working in a burial ground of old books every day.
“And what is that for?”
“Psychology. A counselor at Blackwater Hope House is retiring, and I’ll be taking on her position soon.”
Zach kept his hand wrapped around the warm mug, letting the heat ground him. “Psychology.”
“Yeah. Blackwater Hope House is a refuge for abused women and children. They offer housing, counseling, and medical care. They also help women find jobs.”
As much as Zach liked to joke that Lauren was an angel, it wasn’t always humorous. The woman lived a sheltered Little House on the Prairie life he couldn’t fathom. She’d gone to school to take care of books and battered women. Who did that?
“Speaking of jobs. What are you going to do?” Lauren asked, picking up a single sugar packet to mold between her fingers.
“Well, I figure I can jump back into my old work.”
“And what was that? Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?”
Zach smiled. It was cute when she got spunky. “It’s noble work, angel.”
“Ha! Far from it, Robin Hood. Seriously, I’m not telling you what to do, but I’m begging you. Please don’t get back into your old ways. You just got out. Don’t you want to enjoy it?”
“Enjoy what?”
“Freedom.” She threw her hands out to her sides. “Being a free man.”
Freedom was a myth. Even out of prison, someone would be watching his every move. He lived in a constant state of hyperawareness. Peace was for the righteous, and he wasn’t a part of that group.
“It’ll be nice while it lasts.”
Her eyes softened, and she reached for him, only to stop before her hand touched his. “I don’t understand why you’ve resigned to this lifestyle, but I’d like to help you change course if you’re willing. Having a regular job isn’t so bad.”
“I don’t do too well taking orders,” Zach admitted.
“Ah. Authority. I should have known. You’re so predictable.”
Zach lifted his coffee. “I guess that’s what got me locked up.”
“So throw everyone off. Get a real job. Prove them wrong.”
He rested his coffee on the table between them and leaned back. “Say I turn from my wicked ways and become a Ken doll, how does this work?”
Lauren grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and pulled a pen out of her purse. “What are your strengths?”
“Negotiations.”
She looked up through her lashes with a withering expression. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be bragging about my negotiation skills if I’d just spent three years locked up.”
“Negotiating business deals is different from evading the law.”
“Right.” She scribbled something on the napkin. “Anything else.”
“Keeping my mouth shut.”
“Ah, yes. I recall you were unwilling to become an informant for a lighter sentence. Good for you. Or should I say, good for your friends who got to go on with their lives while you took the punishment.”
Zach leaned over the table, and Lauren had the decency to move back. “If I’d ratted, I’d be dead. Prison doesn’t save you from that.”
Lauren’s shoulders sank. “The cycle doesn’t break unless one of the links decides to let go. You’re holding onto a life that hasn’t done you any favors. Your first thirty years have been about survival. Wouldn’t you like to spend the next thirty actually living?”
Zach bit the inside of his cheek. “Not as easy as it sounds.”
She crossed out whatever she’d written on the napkin. “Let’s move on to your previous work experience. Have you ever had a job? Not the family business, but a job where you had to pay taxes from your income?”
“Nope.”
She slammed her pen on the table. “What is the family business?”
Zach leaned forward to whisper. “Can you be quiet? You’re drawing more attention.”
“What is the family business?” she whispered back.
“Moving guns. Trade. Distribution.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Not at all. I’m a logistics manager. Let’s say I was in upper management.”
She grabbed the pen and wrote furiously on the napkin. “Forget the past. Let’s find something new. The future is wide open ahead of you.”
“Yes. Rainbows and butterflies will be waiting at my new job as a garbage man.”
She slid the napkin across the table and clicked her pen closed.
Zach didn’t reach for it, but the letters were big and bold enough to read.