I went out for revenge or a reckoning orsomething.I got Rue to see me, to even say she loves me.And now I just feel confused, unworthy, and still somewhat pissed and resentful.
Clearly, I need a therapist. But I don’t think that one is in the cards.
“Just lay low and disappear into some rural area.”Netty’s advice comes back to mind, and I toy with that for a while, leaning back in the seat and trying to imagine what that would look like.
It could work.But if my face is plastered on every sign, everywhere, it won’t. If I stay dead, it could. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and imagine a little house in the middle of the trees, similar but different from where I grew up.
I stay there in the mental picture, watching as the front door swings open. Out steps a woman in a pair of light-wash jeans and a sweater, her caramel-colored hair blowing in the breeze. She angles her body to look at me.
And I meet those intoxicating green eyes.
She can’t be here.But she stays.
My lids snap open, back to reality, and I roll my head toward the front of the store. I count the seven cars in the parking lot one by one and wonder what kind of night they’re having that they’re out at the store at this time of night.
Maybe they have a sick kid and need Tylenol.
What a nice fucking reason that would be. To have kids. To have a wife. To look at the law enforcement in the community and think that they keep you safe.
My left arm throbs at the gunshot wound entry point, and I poke at the gauze, as if the irritation might make it stop. It doesn’t. It just sends new shards of pain through the area.
But I guess it could be worse.
If they’d have hit an artery or just not missed me a couple of times, there’s no way I would’ve lived through that plunge.
And she watched it. She watched the whole thing. Then came looking for me.
“You stupid girl,” I breathe out, but my lip curls upward. She might be doing all this out of guilt, but damn is she loyal to it.
As the thought crosses my mind, the automatic doors glide open, and I watch as Rue steps out into the night, pushing a cart of groceries. She gotwaymore than I was expecting her to. I suppose that could be a good thing.
Less stopping. More driving. We can be in Maricopa sooner rather than later.
My stomach knots up at that.Maybe.Even if we get there, I may not have the funds to get someone to take me across.
And I won’t take Rue’s last dime to make it happen.
The back hatch of the SUV clicks and starts to rise, and I hunker down in the seat, as if someone might look in from behind.
“We should be covered for a while, maybe,” Rue says, the crinkling of the grocery bags muffling her voice. “I don’t know what the news is saying right now about everything.”
“I doubt it’s changed since we left,” I offer up, while not moving. “They’re determined they got me, probably because it’d be an embarrassment if they didn’t.”
“There were a lot of guys down there on the dock. I don’t know how you didn’t…” her voice trails off.
“Sheer luck, probably,” I finish for her. “And the fact I went in and came out is another band of luck that I didn’t see coming.”
“Yeah,” Rue huffs, and then closes the hatch, rolling the cart to the nearest return. I can’t see her as well this time, but she makes it back before I start to get anxious. She pops open the driver’s side door and slides in.
“So, we go west…” Rue sets a map down on the console and then folds it open, running her finger along the interstate. “Then we’ll have to go south… Maybe at Holbrook?” Her brows scrunch as she stares at it. “I don’t think it’ll take long. We should be able to be there tomorrow, maybe later today.”
My heart jumps in my chest. “That’s it?”
She looks up from the page. “Yeah, that’s it. And you said something about ditching the car.” Rue pauses, frowning. “I don’t think Netty is going to snitch. He would’ve by now, don’t you think?”
I shrug, not feeling competent enough to give advice. I went into the prison system when I was only twenty-three. I don’t know enough.
I really don’t fucking know enough.
