Abel
I watch Rose as she gets out of the car, her full backpack slung over her one shoulder and the other in her grip. I didn’t even think to ask her what the hell was in them. She looks back at me with a sweet smile and I want to tell her to hurry up before our luck changes, but I can’t get over the way her hair shines under the sun that’s peeking through the clouds, the golden strands that make her look like a goddess.
Mami would slap the shit out of me if she could see me now. And I swear she can, from the seat Rose just vacated. If I pay her any mind, she’ll begin her endless tirade of belittling comments that throw me into a rage.
I choose to start the car and idle, waiting for Rose to pull out of the garage. I stare at the house as I wait. It’s fucking huge. I’ve never been inside a house that looks as perfect as this one does. It looks like Rose should’ve had a better life than the one she was given.
It looks like she had a lot in common with this fucking mansion—beautiful on the outside but full of terrors on the inside.
A moment after the thought fades, I see her pull out of the garage. The car is silver, which is better than the red I’d expected when I heard her say Porsche . She pulls up beside me and shoots me a big grin. The biggest I’ve ever seen her wear.
She’s radiant.
“Try to keep up,” she yells before taking off. She isn’t careful. She’s excitement, and her fucking age for once.
I follow her through the streets even though it was supposed to be the other way around, my hands tightening on the steering wheel when she takes corners too sharply and goes over the speed limit. She parks the car just outside a shitty looking supermarket.
Ella es un problema , mami warns from her place in the passenger seat, her slur pronounced.
Ignoring her, I get out of the truck and leave the key on the front seat. Because a ghost can’t drive away…right? As far as I’m concerned, anyone can have that piece of shit truck. If they take it, better for us.
Rose is out of the car and leaning against the driver’s side door when I approach.
“I’ll bet you didn’t come to this side of town often,” I say before yanking her toward me. I look down into her eyes, trying to see the version of her I’ll never know. “No. This is where someone like me would be.”
“Then I suppose I should’ve made an effort to venture this way.” Her smile is cheeky as she swings her braid and gets in the passenger seat.
I rap my knuckles on the hood of the car with a grin on my face. Life is feeling really fucking good today. Soy muy suerto. “You think you would’ve found someone like me, then?” I adjust the seat, messing with the buttons, not familiar with this type of car. If I were familiar, it’d only be in my goddamn dreams. A Porsche ? Yeah. Never even been close enough to one to see my reflection.
“I’d say you’re one in a million, but the earth’s population is upwards of seven billion. So, I think you’re one in seven billion, but that still doesn’t seem completely accurate.” She’s unzipping her backpack as her words lose their volume until she’s damn near murmuring to herself.
And I’m grinning like a fucking fool. “Whatcha got there?” I haven’t moved the car anywhere, unsure what the hell we’re doing next. It purrs patiently as I see stacks of money peeking up at me. ?Qué carajo?
“A hundred grand, some clothes, and a gun.” She says these things casually like they’re milk, eggs, and bread.
“ Co?o . Lemme see.”
Her eyes slide up my face to my eyes as she pushes the bag toward me so I can look inside.
Sure enough, hundred-dollar bills, neatly bound, and a gun, expensive by the look of it are in one bag. I assume the clothes are in the other.
“We did it.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think of anything else. “We fucking made it.”
She grabs the bag back and closes it, effectively cutting my excitement short. “We still have a few more matters to take care of before we leave for good.”
I glance around the empty parking lot, worried about walking around with this kind of money. “And you have no clue when she’ll be home?”
Rose shakes her head, some of her blonde hair sliding out of her braid, strand after strand, as I wait for her to tell me what the plan is now.
“So, you want to just stick around here and wait for her?” I ask, my feelings about this stupid ass plan made plain by my tone.
The silence in the car feels worse than any silence I’ve ever sat in before.
One moment, I can taste my freedom. The next, I’m a slave to her condition.
So fucking close…
“We won’t get caught,” she attempts to reassure me.
“Yeah but you don’t fucking know that, Rose. You don’t know that.” I sit back and turn the car off. “What about what I want?”
“I thought I was what you wanted.”
“ Ay , of course you are. But,” I’m afraid to ask, “am I what you want? Or am I just the guy who broke you out? The one you’ll end up leaving behind if I decide enough is enough?”
She doesn’t speak for a moment.
And if I thought the silence before was the worst, I was dead fucking wrong.
I have a feeling this silence will haunt me forever.
“You’re what I want, too,” she finally tells me, aiming her baby blues at me like she knows I’m weak for her.
And I believe her words. I believe them so much that I hear the things she isn’t fucking saying. That’s how hard I’m listening to this girl. I’m hearing the shit she won’t tell me.
I love you, but…
I need you, but…
I want you, but…
I love, need, and want this more.
Fuck.
I wonder if Rose knows how shitty being in this town feels for me. My eyes are constantly moving, trying to make sure no one sees her.
“What are we doing?” I ask her, point blank.
She pulls a wad of cash from the bag and hands me five of the hundred-dollar bills. “We need food. And whatever else you can think of.”
My eyes go from the money she’s still holding out for me to grab to the building in front of us. By now, the sun is out, and some cars have started hitting the road.
This quiet town is about to become a whole lot louder once Rose is through.
“Everything all right?” She reaches her free hand toward my face and I nod before her palm meets my cheek.
She doesn’t provide physical touch on her own much and it settles something inside of me.
Her touch is thrilling, and I’m lost in her blue eyes.
“I love you, you know. I wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have gotten us outta that shit hole, if I didn’t.”
She lets me lean forward, so close to her lips that I’m nearly kissing her, before she whispers, “you’re not afraid of me. Not you too, .”
I close my eyes as my lips touch hers. So fucking softly that I don’t know if I could even call this a kiss. “Not the way you think,” I tell her again, because it’s true.
I don’t think my espinita will hurt me. But I know she’s capable of hurting me indirectly and landing us both right back in Silverwing. Or worse, dead.
I don’t want to die today. Or any time soon.
Certainly not before I have a chance to make her come.
I grin and lean back as I grab the cash, folding it in my hand. “Any requests?”
She shrugs, looking youthful. “As long as it isn’t oatmeal.”
With a chuckle, I hop out of the car and head toward the entrance. My eyes are still doing that shifty thing because I’m a shitty criminal when Rose is at stake. I need to work on that. Luckily, I’m the only customer inside.
I grab socks, underwear, t-shirts, body wash, and a shitload of snacks. I guess her sizes in sports bras and panties, just so she’s more comfortable. When I see condoms, I shove three boxes into the basket. Her pleasure, because I’m a gentleman. I grab two disposable phones and as I make my way toward the register, I notice sunglasses. I drop two pairs of them into the almost-full basket.
There are bins of promotional items in the front of the store; seasonal things that are meant to lure you in. It’s full of Halloween decorations and I grin as I look through it. I used to love the idea of Halloween. Mami would say it’s an evil holiday. That no matter what people dressed as, they were worshipping Satan and deserved to burn in hell.
And now she makes my life hell.
I see something poking out of the bin and tuck it into my basket, wondering how it ended up there.
The music over the speaker makes me think of elevators as I approach the only register with a person behind it.
“Morning,” the young woman says, her gaze roving over me. Is she judging my tattoos? Intimidated by my height?
I nod as I look around the register at the mints and gum and candy, remembering a time when I used to beg mami to purchase one of them for me, only for her to slap me once we left the store for reminding her that she couldn’t afford things.
And now I’m here with five hundred dollars, a criminal on the run.
The cashier rings the items up and offers idle chit chat but I’m not here for that shit.
It’s weird, how friendly she is and I’m transported to a time when women used to hit on me. Is that what’s happening here? I keep my answers short, just in case.
There’ll be a day when people will know we escaped. They’ll call us savages and say all kinds of crazy shit about us but this girl, the one I smile at before handing her two of my bills, I think about what she’ll say.
Will she say she was afraid? Will she lie?
I grab the bags and tell her to have a good day.
I hope they get that on fucking camera.
As I leave the store, I look at the surveillance camera just above the door and aim my middle finger at it.
Because I’m a nice fucking guy.