7
GWEN
Jeff.
The man who agreed to junk the car for me. His name was Jeff. He asked for mine a handful of times, but when I refused to answer, he said, “Yeah, yeah, miss. I get it.”
He probably did.
The exact reason why I was so careful to conceal my identity, he would never know. But he knew one thing. I was breaking the law. And he was okay with that, so long as he got some cash.
They always said, ‘There is no honor among thieves.’ I never agreed with that. Some of the best people I’d ever met were the ones who had the least, who’d gotten a hold of the little they did have through nefarious means and used those little scraps for survival.
The worst people I’d ever met were the ones who came from normal, happy, and healthy families.
Jeff though? Jeff was just a guy trying to survive. He didn’t want the details for the same reasons I didn’t want the details about how the ranch was run. Plausible deniability.
The two of us sat together outside the junkyard until they opened. At that point, he said he would do the job. But he wanted a down payment.
I passed him two hundred bucks and the car keys. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized he could’ve driven off with the car. Which wouldn’t have been ideal. Jeff didn’t do that though. He and Felix, his dog, drove up to the gate. After a couple honks, someone came to the passenger window, exchanged a few words with Jeff, then rolled the barbed wire wrapped, chain-link gate open.
Jeff drove through. Once inside, he stepped out of the vehicle and talked to that same man for a few minutes. After an exchange of cash, Jeff and Felix stood beside the gate. Eventually, the man Jeff had spoken to got into the vehicle and drove it into a big yellow box.
I tiptoed around the fence to see inside. Sure enough, the tractor attached to the big yellow box rumbled to a start. The top of the box descended slowly. Metal crunched, glass shattered, and in a few heartbeats, the evidence that could one day be used to convict me was nothing more than a crushed-up square of metal and debris.
Jeff came out a few minutes later. I gave him the remaining eight hundred and asked where I might find a cab.
It had to have been at least five city blocks before I caught sight of one. The entity must’ve come back, because I don’t remember that walk. I recall cutting through a few alleys and stripping off a couple of my layers and shoving them into my backpack, but not much else.
Eventually, I made it to a busy street. People were walking nearly shoulder to shoulder, probably for an event of some kind. Yellow cabs, several of them, lined up against the curb, waiting for customers.
I hopped in one and entered an address. Not for the ranch. It was a little country store a few miles down the road from the ranch’s private drive. Still, at least a three hour venture for the cabby. He said something about how that was far. I would’ve been better off renting a car.
In silence, I passed him a thousand in cash. He didn’t complain after that.
While I have no recollection of falling asleep in the cab, I may have.
Eventually, I recognized where I was again. The yellow cab dropped me at the old general store, and I walked.
When I got to the private driveway that led to the ranch, I didn’t walk along it. I followed the trails through the woods alongside it. One wrapped all the way around the property, including my backyard.
With my cabin finally in sight, a burst of adrenaline coursed through me. I tore up that hill like a monster was chasing me.
In a way, one was.
Because if Simone lay dead in there, all of this would’ve been for nothing.
Last night, I had locked the door on the way out. Didn’t bring my keys either. As I bent for the spare stashed under the flowerpot at the back entrance, the rear door swung open.
Simone stood in the threshold. Her one good eye wide, the other swollen shut. She no longer had on a bloody blouse. Instead, she wore my gray sweatshirt and a pair of my black sweatpants.
As I straightened, our eyes met. Neither of us spoke. For a few silent heartbeats, we only stared at one another. Her eyes flicked over me, mine over her, until tears consumed us both.
“You okay?” she asked, voice cracking.
A few steps up the stairs, I nodded. “Are you?”
Nostrils flaring, a stream of tears leaked from the corner of her good eye. She gritted her teeth and exhaled slowly. A quick nod. Because if she said anything more, that small stream would become a river.
