Chasing Allie (Breaking Away Series #2) (3 page)

Chase looks at me. The shotgun is steady and the barrel is still pointed at Jeff. This isn’t going to end well.

Then again, nothing is ending well in my life.

Leaving this town, with Chase, may be the only way that anything can end for me in a way that gives me a future. What’s my other option? Stay and be handed off to a Mexican drug lord who will ravage me and sell me off to be held captive and raped daily for the rest of my life? 

Some choice.

“Don’t you dare try to follow us,” I say to Jeff, whose eyes widen with shock. “You controlled me long enough. I know everything.
Everything
,” I stress. “I know you’re dealing drugs, I know you’re competing with Atlas, I know you probably killed my mom—” 

“I didn’t kill your mother,” Jeff insists. He doesn’t say a word about the other things I just said. Guilty. I’m not surprised, but I am conflicted. I feel weird right now. Talking to him like I’m his equal is really strange.

Calling him on his lies feels good, but it will take some getting used to. Plus, I’m livid my money is gone. I have no sense of what life will throw at me next.

Chase grins, the smile wide and happy across his face. He nudges his head toward the main door. I walk over to him, and he puts his arm around me, the shotgun still pointed right at Jeff.

“Allie, don’t you leave. You have no right. Look at everything I’ve done for you.” Jeff’s words hang in the air in the bar, like dust motes that float in a beam of sunlight. It’s only when you really look at what you’re seeing that you see how filthy everything can be.

“You want your money? I’ll give it to you.” He goes to reach for his back pocket and Chase clicks the gun. 

“Don’t even,” Chase says.

“I’m trying to give her back her fucking money! I found it and was keeping it safe for her,” Jeff mutters. Even he can’t sustain the lie.

“Throw it on the counter, then,” Chase says.

Jeff does as he’s told, but he tosses it right into a pile of broken glass.

“You asshole,” Chase mutters. I only half care, walking gingerly around the broken pieces, picking up the cash. A few one dollar bills float off into even more broken shards. I ignore them. The bigger bills are all there.

I turn and look at the man who has made me feel so small, so insignificant, so unworthy for the past two years.

“Go to hell, Jeff,” I say, meaning every single word of it. “I never picked you as my stepfather, and I certainly don’t pick you to be my warden.”

“Why are you calling me your warden?” Jeff asks. His eyes look like he’s feeling genuine emotional pain. I falter. Maybe I’ve misjudged him. For the past two years he’s told me what a burden I am to him. He’s given me a place to live, fed me, helped me make it through high school, and even given me a job. 

At the same time, he’s controlled almost every move I make, told me over and over how grateful I’m supposed to be for his act of “kindness,” and he stole what little money I had.

Now Chase comes here with this nutso story about how Jeff’s going to sell me, like some kind of a sex slave, because I’m a virgin? It’s too crazy to believe.

“Allie,” Chase says with a warning in his voice. “There’s more. I don’t want to have to tell you, but I know who he’s planing to sell you to. El Brujo. The Wizard.” 

Every part of my skin, my organs, my bones goes numb and cold at once. “El Brujo? Jeff, you were planning to hand me off to El Brujo?” El Brujo is the biggest, most dangerous drug lord in California and Mexico. Hell, in the world, as far as I know. Journalists write long articles about him in major magazines and then turn up dead.

The television news is full of stories about him and his terrorist tactics. He’s a giant drug lord and will kill anyone who gets in his way in about as much time as it takes to sneeze. He’s been known to kill women
while
raping them, and do it in front of their captured friends. A preview of what’s to come. 

I start to shiver. “Why me?” I ask, my voice a pitiful moan.

Jeff opens his mouth and closes it a few times, eyes shooting fire at Chase. “That’s not true,” he finally says. But he moves his eyes away when he says it.

My stomach is burning and tingling. I don’t want to believe Chase. I don’t think he’s lying, of course. It’s just that this is too much to believe. You never think you’ll find yourself being sold into sex slavery to a drug lord, you know?

The thought makes me laugh. A bitter sound pours out of my mouth, and Jeff looks at me sharply. He’s trying to see if he can convince me. His eyes are focused only on that. I can tell.

To him, I am a tool. Something you use to fix something else. Whatever mess he got himself into, he’s been waiting to hand me over.

Something Galt asked me last night makes another piece of the puzzle fit. “I turned eighteen a few weeks ago,” I say, moving away from Chase and over to Jeff.

Just then, Heather walks in from the back, ready to start her shift. She’s an older woman, about Jeff’s age, with colored hair the shade of adobe and too much eyeliner. She’s whip thin, a smoker, and the woman Jeff’s been sleeping with.

Her head is bent down and she’s tying on her apron. “So hey, Jeff, I think you’re short on peanuts, and we need to order more from—” Her voice ends abruptly as she looks up and sees Chase pointing the gun at Jeff’s head.

A squeak of surprise is her next sound.

“Stay right there, Heather,” Jeff says in a cool voice. He probably doesn’t care what happens to her, but there’s a catch in his voice. It’s more than I ever heard him worry about me, that’s for sure. 

“I wish you were dead,” I snap at Jeff. The full pain of everything Chase has revealed hits me at once. “You’ve done nothing but hurt people,” I add, my mouth suddenly tasting like copper. The room spins a little and Chase reaches out for me. He can tell I’m wobbly. 

He’s offering support.

“I’ve done nothing but help you, little girl,” Jeff says somberly. His eyes flit over to Heather. She’s got one eyebrow cocked high and is leaning against a doorjamb. If she’s on Jeff’s side then this could become an enormous mess. I just need to get out of here. I can’t breathe. 

“You do what you need to do, honey,” Heather says, surprising me. She clearly shocks Jeff, who looks at her, gaping. Her eyes are the color of tobacco, the skin around them wrinkled and a bit chalky, like her makeup went on wrong. But her eyes are determined.

“When you find love,” she adds, “you run away with it.”

“Aw, fuck,” Jeff mutters, taking in a deep sigh, like he can’t believe the stuff coming out of her mouth. His hair is a mess now, the thin brown strands standing up in the air over his ears like bent antennae. How have I missed the fact that he’s just a man? An ordinary man. He has no power over me. And Heather’s right. 

Time to run away with love.

I’ve always liked Heather. She’s kind of a follower but a good human being.

“Go with Chase, honey,” she says with a smile, waving her hand toward Jeff like she’s shooing him off. “You live your life.”

I look at her. I look at Jeff. I look at Chase.

“Let’s go,” I say, and just like that, we’re through the front door and climbing on Chase’s bike. I stuff what’s left of my $371 in my back pocket and all I want is to get as far away from here as fast as we can. 

Chase stars up the bike and I put on my helmet, the bike lurching forward and onto the road before I can even get the helmet latched properly.

“Where are we going?” I shout over the noise of the accelerating engine. You know those moments in the movies where there’s a huge explosion and the smoke is catching up to the good guys just as they pull away? I feel like that. Like if Chase and I don’t get out of here right this second, we’ll be burned. 

“I know exactly where,” he says. I don’t ask any more questions. I just rest my cheek against his back, tighten my arms around him, and let go.

It feels so good.

Within a minute, I get this creepy sensation. It starts at the back of my neck, and I think it’s the wind. Or maybe a small bug? I reach back and find nothing.

The feeling grows.

I turn around and see Jeff’s red car behind us, gaining ground.

I poke Chase and shout in his ear, “Jeff’s following us.”

“I thought he would. Hang on tight.” He guns the bike and we rocket forward. He wasn’t kidding. I pull my arms tight around his waist and seriously worry I might fall off.

That would hurt. I don’t need to be dragged on the road. The thought makes me cringe.

Chase makes a sharp left as we pass by a series of small auto repair shops on the edge of town, then takes off on a dirt road. He circles back and hides in a small alley, so narrow a car can’t fit. We watch as Jeff flies past, then turns a sharp left, too, following the dirt clouds Chase stirred up with the bike.

“Hang on again. It’s like being the Road Runner,” he says. “Beep beep!” 

I laugh and squeeze him hard. The bike jerks forward and we’re off, back toward town, Chase weaving on side streets until we’re on dirt roads again. After ten minutes it’s clear we’re safe.

Jeff’s not following us.

We’re free.

When I see the first road sign for Los Angeles I let out a warrior’s battle cry.

Chase joins in.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

Two hours later I’m thirsty, covered in dirt, and I need to pee so badly I’m not sure I can lift my aching leg over the motorcycle to hobble into the gas station’s bathroom, much less squat. Some miracle gets me in there, and I take care of business. My brain is so tired. My heart, though, is excited.

Beyond excited.

I take a look in the dirty mirror above the cracked porcelain sink in the bathroom. A single, flickering light bulb in the grubby room is my only light. Wow. My long, black hair makes the wounds worse somehow, and now the tangled mess of helmet head plus hours of relentless wind make me look like someone put me in a blender.

And then there are the wounds. I am a combination of scabby brown, deep purple, and my normal flesh tone. The road rash is cracking as it scabs, a nasty reddish-brown that looks like dried dog barf.

Chase is being really nice to ride around with a woman who looks like me. I smile, and my lip screams with pain. I give up, washing my hands and getting back outside quickly.

We’re headed straight for Los Angeles. The ocean. It’s two hundred miles and at the rate we’re going, we can be to Marissa’s place before dark. I call her as Chase runs in to get us some snacks.

“Marissa!” I scream as she picks up. “I’m coming to see you!”

“What? Who is this? Liam, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not just some wench you call when you’re horny.” 

I nearly drop the phone and stare at it like it’s a live snake. “Hello? Hello?” Marissa says.

“If you think your own sister is some booty call named Liam, then you have worse problems than some guy who calls just for a quickie, Marissa,” I say into the phone, laughing.

Just then, Chase comes out of the convenience store carrying my favorite drink and some protein bars. He points to the bar and mouths,
Okay?
 

I give him a thumbs’ up.
It’s perfect
, I mouth back.

“
Alllllliiiieee!
” Marissa screams into my phone. It’s so loud even Chase jerks back, grabbing his ear.

“I didn’t know the human voice could hit a range that high,” he whispers to me. “Please tell me it doesn’t run in the family.” He gives me a dead serious look and I burst out laughing. 

“I hear a man talking to you. Is it Jeff?” Her voice takes on a fearful tone. Chase picks up on it instantly and frowns, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to be afraid of Jeff anymore,” Chase says into the phone. He screws the top off my drink and hands it to me, urging me to sip. I do, enjoying being taken care of. 

I grab the phone and pull it away from him, though. “No, that’s Chase,” I tell Marissa. “He’s bringing me to the ocean. To L.A. To see you.”

“You’re moving here? Now?” She’s so incredulous I can’t stop laughing.

“No, no, I don’t think so,” I say. Actually, I have no idea. All my stuff is back home, and I have to go back and get the jewelry box Jeff stole out of the tampon machine, my clothes, my things, my...

Oh, I really
don’t
know. I haven’t thought this through, and Marissa’s question makes me realize how crazy this all is. Leaving home made sense a few hours ago, but the implications are starting to hit me. 

“Then why are you coming?” she asks. 

I smile at Chase, who is keeping a respectful distance so I can speak privately, but he’s leaning back against a rail near the air pump, face tipped up to the sky, enjoying a breeze. God, he’s beautiful. Perfect. Tanned and muscled, strong and kind, hard as nails and protective.

I couldn’t ask for more in a man. And he likes me right back. Maybe, if I’m lucky, he loves me. Road rash and all. 

“Because Chase offered to bring me to the ocean,” I say. It’s not really a lie, right? I don’t want to tell her all the bad news I’ve learned about Jeff over the phone. That seems too abrupt. Besides, with Marissa I can fall apart and cry over ice cream and wine.

On the phone? No. I can’t fall apart here, in the desert in front of a crummy gas station.

“How long will you visit? And does Jeff know?”

“Um, a day or two? I don’t know.” I laugh. “We didn’t exactly plan this out. I just want to put my feet in the water and watch the sun set and then I’ll be a grown-up and make plans and be practical again,” I explain.

I can feel her smile through the phone.

“Okay. Sounds fine. You have my address, right?”

“Right.”

“And Allie?” Marissa’s voice drops to a suggestive tone. “One of my roommates is gone on a business trip. Arlen. I’m sure he’ll be fine with you and Chase sleeping over in his room. He comes home tomorrow.”

It’s in the nineties and sun-blazing hot, but I shiver anyhow.

I’m sure he’ll be fine with you and Chase sleeping over in his room.
Marissa’s words echo in my mind a thousand times in one second.