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“Sorry.” It sounds like I have a mouthful of marbles as I burst back out into the crisp autumn air, hating myself and hating Elijah and hating every single thing about Sasha’s death.
“Raquel,” Elijah calls out. I turn around and he’s standing in the doorway, his hands on either side of the doorframe. “Meet me at the church in an hour.”
“I don’t want to,” I snap, turning toward my car.
“Please,” he says. Even with my back to him, I can feel the weight of his stare. “Please,” he says. “I’ll explain, okay?”
I keep focused on my car.
“I am glad to see you, you know. Just give me an hour, and please drive safely.”
***
Mount Horeb Baptist Church is just as isolated and sad looking as the first time we were here. It’s such a shame to let a place of history go to waste like this. Remembering what Sasha’s letter said, I drive to the front of the site and read the historic marker sign to get the whole story of Peyton Roberts, and now Elijah is fifteen minutes later than he’d promised. Maybe he got stuck in traffic, I tell myself. Another voice inside my head says, Maybe he’s just not coming.
I sit on the grass beside my car, my back leaning against the tire. My phone is nearly dead, so I put it on battery-saving mode and stay off it, just in case there’s some emergency later and my parents need to get a hold of me. It’s not like I need it to wait on a call from Elijah.
I snort and pull up a blade of grass.
My entire life is now a collection of weirdness. This long-distance thing, all the secrecy, whatever just happened at the body shop? That’s not a healthy foundation for a relationship. Hell, it makes my thing with Zack seem ideal.
I gaze up at the sky and listen to the sounds of birds and the wind blowing through the trees. And I wait. Much longer than I should, but I wait.
Two hours after I left Austin, I hear the rumble of Elijah’s motorcycle. I’m still excited to see him — though he doesn’t deserve that. I keep my head down, my fingers tearing grass into shreds.
He sits next to me, then leans over and kisses the side of my head. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”
I just nod.
He continues, “I was a little freaked out and I wanted to keep you safe.” He lets out a breath. “I don’t work at the best place, Raquel.”
“It’s a place that fixes cars,” I say, finally looking at him. “I wasn’t expecting a five-star hotel.”
He shakes his head slowly. “It’s not a body shop.”
“What does that mean? Of course it’s a body shop.” I know what I saw.
His shoulders lift and then fall. “It is a shop, and that’s the part Anthony and I work in, but that’s not all it is. Our bosses are into … well, we’re not sure, but we think they’re money laundering or something. The shop is just a way to hide it.”
Oh. Suddenly I realize he could be in trouble. “I’m sorry I showed up. I just wanted to see you, I guess, and the shirt was an excuse to find you.” I am babbling.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all week, Raquel. I didn’t want to wait until our next adventure. I wanted to see you now.”
“Tell me about it,” I say. I know the feeling.
Elijah reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small cell phone, turning it over in his hands. It’s an older model, worn around the edges.
“Did you just get that?” I ask.
“No,” he says, heaving a sigh as he slides it back into his pocket. “It’s for work. My boss pays for it. I can’t use it for anything other than work, though.”
“Why would you need a cell phone for the body shop?”
“We mostly work on cars. But occasionally we drive bags of cash to other body shops.”
What? “This sounds like some action-movie shit.”
He laughs and reaches for my hand, pulling it into his lap. He laces his fingers into mine and stares at his thumb while he slides it across my palm. “Sometimes, it is just like a movie. So much drama. I only work there because Anthony found the job for us. We were in the same group home and we aged out together. He was a couple months older than me, so he found Monty and got a job. Then he got one for me, too, when I turned eighteen. Monty just wants guys who work hard on the cars and don’t ask questions. He even lets us stay at one of his apartments with two other guys who work at a different shop, so we get both a job and a house out of it. I know it’s shady, but it seems like a miracle when you’ve got nothing.”
