Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2) (14 page)

W
hen I was six
, I went on vacation and forgot to feed my hamster. By the time I returned from Hawaii, Hammy was dead. Wracked with guilt, I cried for days. When I was nine, I stole some glitter hair clips from a dollar store because Mom wouldn't buy them for me. Later, when Mom found out, she forced me to return them to the store and apologize in front of the manager. I was ashamed for weeks. My great-grandma, Ming La, died before I could visit her in Hong Kong. She hadn't seen me since I was a baby, and she’d spent years trying to convince me to visit her. I never did, and now I never will. I hated myself for months.

But this?

Sending Kieran back to prison before he could reunite with his daughter?

I'd probably have nightmares about it for years.

It was me. I knew it. My anonymous tip. My note to the Chinese delivery guy. The cops tracked us here because I explained in the note that we were headed for Seattle. They were probably monitoring all the major rest stops and bus terminals along the Interstate.
What the fuck did I do?

I gripped the plastic armrest so hard my joints hurt. Pain bloomed in my chest and spread up through my neck in the form of a painful rash.

Did he know? Did Kieran suspect it was me who betrayed him?
I didn’t know the truth when I wrote that note. I was just so scared. If he’d just told me sooner…

The bus thrashed through the snow, dirt flecking the large windows. Its passengers chatting animatedly all around me. No one paid attention to the pale Chinese girl tucked away in the back corner. Thank God. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself. I needed space to think and room to breathe. An anxiety attack was begging to throttle me, but I needed my wits and I needed a clear head, now more than ever.

I had a mission. I had to carry the torch. Finish what Kieran started.

See Kara.

Kieran was gone, but I had his duffle bag full of cash, and his concealed weapon.

Did that make me a criminal? I had no idea where he got the money or the gun from. What if it was all stolen? Obtained through illegal means? Then what?

But Kara was waiting.

Bianca was waiting.

I'd arrive in Seattle in less than three hours. I'd get my ass over to Denny Park, wherever the hell that was, and deliver this bag personally to Bianca. Then I'd walk away and...

Could I really just go back to Northbridge and face the disaster I'd left behind?

Apologize, start over, and pretend none of this happened? That I didn’t run away from my wedding yesterday morning? What would I say to my friends? My family? Rob and his family?

Could I really bring myself to make up some half-lie about Kieran kidnapping me and using me as a hostage in order to break parole? Would anyone believe me?

Truth was, I'd developed sympathy toward my kidnapper. And once I’d heard his story, I was planning to help him. Did that make me an accessory? How could I just go home and pretend I wanted nothing to do with this crazy fugitive? I wasn’t
that
good at acting.

I bent down and unzipped the duffle bag at my feet. Inside lay stacks of crinkled old bills hidden under stinky old clothes, and of course, the Glock 22, which shined dully, taunting me. Kieran had threatened me with it two short days ago. Now it was my weapon. I sucked in a sharp breath, the gravity of the situation dawning on me. This wasn't me. This wasn't something Rachelle Wu did. I wasn't a spy, or a criminal...I wasn't anything.

I should hand this bag over to the police. Let the authorities handle this.

My fingers trembled as I zipped the bag back up.

What if everything Kieran had told me was a lie? For all I knew, I could be handing this money over to a gang member. Or terrorists. Or a drug dealer. Could I really trust him? I hardly knew him.

Either way, I was already bound for Seattle. I had no phone on me. I wasn't about to call anyone for help while I was sitting next to all this cash. And I couldn't just abandon it either. I resolved to go to Denny Park at five and see if Kieran was telling the truth. Bianca and Kara wouldn't be expecting to see me, so I could watch them without raising suspicion. It was the best plan I could come up with.

I arrived at the Seattle Greyhound Terminal around 3:30 p.m. Hoisting the heavy bag across my shoulders, I hobbled out of the bus and sucked in a big lungful of secondhand smoke.

“Hey, no smoking here,” someone called out in the distance. A man crushed his cigarette under his boot and sped off.

Thump-thump-thump.
I looked up, then down, before realizing the noise came from my own heart. Sweat slid down my face, and coated my palms. I looked right and left, hoping I didn't seem too suspicious-looking with a man's dusty duffle bumping against my hip. The straps dug into my neck, chafing the sensitive skin there. I winced.

“Need any help?” an old, whiskered man asked. He was leaning against a parked yellow cab.

I contemplated hopping in his cab, but thought better of it. What if he discovered what I was carrying and mugged me? No, it'd be safer to take public transit. More work, but safer. Already thinking like a fugitive, even though I technically wasn’t one. Not anymore.

Once I left the terminal, I asked an elderly woman where I might catch a bus to Denny Park. In a slow, Southern drawl, she gave me a list of directions, which I scrawled down on the back of a bus timetable. Turns out, I could walk there. It was only about six blocks away.

I had a couple hours to spare, so I popped into a Starbucks for some food. When it was my turn to pay, I unzipped my bag just wide enough to slip my hand through. Then I groped around until I felt a bill. I tugged it free from its elastic band and handed it to the pink-haired cashier.

“Got anything smaller?” she asked.

I looked down and realized it was a Benjamin. I wasn't suspicious at all...Just walking around with a massive black duffle bag, paying for four-dollar coffees with a hundred-dollar bill. I shook my head. “Sorry, that's all I've got.”

The cashier took it and proceeded to hand me back a lot of change. Coins and bills spilled out of my outstretched hands. I glanced at the long queue behind me and was met with more than a few impatient stares. Someone cleared their throat.

Taking my venti caramel macchiato, I sat down at an unoccupied table and began drumming its cracked surface with my fingers. Nervous habit.

A round-faced man with a sweaty forehead gestured to the seat in front of me. “May I join you?”

“No!” I snapped, a little too loudly.

The man nearly spilled his coffee. He took a step back.

“I'm sorry, I just meant...I'm waiting for someone.”

“Okay, no problem.” He moved on to another table.

Okay, I was definitely acting crazy.

I'd visited Seattle plenty of times over the years, but never under such unusual circumstances. I fingered the change in my pocket. I could call my parents or friends from one of the public phones. Let them know I was okay.

No, first things first. I had to deliver this money.

What if Bianca and Kara didn't even show up? Then what?

I was letting my anxiety eat me alive, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Get a grip!

After finishing my drink, I headed off toward Denny Park. It was a small, unassuming park in the middle of downtown Seattle. A colorful playground swarmed with screaming children. I sat down on a metal picnic table and set the duffle down on the ground by my feet. When I left Starbucks, it'd been 4:30. They'd be here any moment now.

Redhead with a ten-year-old girl. Look for a redhead...

I shouldn't be here.

It should be Kieran here, meeting his daughter for the first time. Not me. I’m an imposter. I sent this poor girl’s daddy back to jail.

“Tyler Banks! Be safe!” someone screamed. “Don't hit or you get a time out!”

I turned to see who was talking.

And there she was. I knew she was Bianca as soon as I saw her. Dyed auburn curls framed ruddy, mocha-colored cheeks. She wore large, tortoiseshell glasses and her lipstick was a vivid shade of purple. She had a toddler on one hip and two older children pulling each other's hair as they ran for the playground.

“Misty! Stop yanking on your brother's hair!” she screamed.

I didn't notice the other child until a few seconds later. She clung to Bianca's long skirt, hiding behind it, as if for protection.

Kara.

Kara had dark hair, like Kieran, and a slightly swollen look to her caramel skin. Her eyes were small and wide-set compared to the rest of her face; the left one was larger than the right, and drooped. Her cheeks were unnaturally large and connected to a sagging chin. She also had a slightly upturned nose, which was dripping steadily.

My heart broke when I saw her. She fisted Bianca's skirt in her tiny hands and kept her eyes to the ground.

“Kara, honey, why don't you go play with your brother and sister?” Bianca asked.

Kara shook her head. She was unbelievably skinny, and very short for her age. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“Tyler! Stop hitting your sister with snowballs!” Bianca cried.

I bent over, picked up the duffle bag and stood up. I had to go over there. Get this whole thing over with and go home.

Kara began sobbing, and I held back. She was mumbling incoherently, her puce face pinched with anger. Bianca strapped her toddler into the stroller and knelt down to hug Kara. Stroking Kara's long black hair, Bianca murmured something in her daughter's ear. Once Kara had calmed down, Bianca encouraged her to go play with her siblings. This time, Kara nodded, and joined the others on the playground.

I seized the opportunity to go over and introduce myself.

“Nice kids,” I said, smiling.

It was probably the lamest thing I'd ever said to a parent, but Bianca smiled back. “Thanks. Do you have any?”

I shook my head. “Maybe one day. But not now.”

The sun was setting and it was almost completely dark. I hugged myself for warmth, teeth chattering.

Bianca nodded. “My kids love to play outside. Can’t keep them indoors, not even in the winter.”

I nodded to her children. “How old are they?”

“Tyler and Misty are twins. They're eleven. Kara is ten-and-a-half. And this here,” Bianca gestured to her little one, “is Dylan. He's three.”

“You must be really busy,” I said.

Bianca sighed. “Tell me about it. It's like a carnival that never ends.”

“Their dad—”

“—Out of the picture, thank God,” Bianca said. “Good-for-nothing asshole. Cheated on me with his step-sister. Can you believe it?”

“Damn,” I mumbled. “That's rough.”

“Rough doesn't even begin to describe my life. You see Kara there? My sister's kid. Kara's got problems all her life because my sister drank and shot up while she was pregnant. Then she ran off with her boyfriend and dumped her baby on my doorstep. Never heard from her again.”

I couldn't hold back anymore. I wanted to cry. Kieran had been telling the truth. There really was a Bianca and Kara and Trisha. I had to tell Bianca who I was. Everything crashed down on me in waves. Kieran was gone, and I was here in his place. It wasn’t right, but here I was, and here I’d stay. I’d finish Kieran’s mission. “I’m Kieran's friend,” I blurted out. I suddenly wished I could take the words back, but it was too late.

Bianca's eyes darted toward me, looking me up and down. “What did you say?”

“Kieran couldn't make it, but he wanted me to give you this,” I said, patting the duffle.

“Why couldn't he—”

“He got arrested for parole violation.”

“How do you—”

“It's complicated. I wish he could be here to explain everything but...” I bit back tears. “I have a feeling he's going back to prison.”

Bianca twisted and untwisted the fabric of her skirt. She bit back tears too, her face growing bright red. “I told him it was a dumb idea. I said I'd go meet him in Northbridge, but he said it'd be too hard to travel with four kids and no car.” Bianca removed her glasses and wiped the dirty lenses. “He shouldn't have—Shouldn’t have—”

“He said he wanted to thank you in person, for everything you've done for Kara. He wanted to give you this money…for the kids. Make their lives better.”

“Take it back,” Bianca said, shaking her head. “Tell him to use it to get himself a better lawyer. The shit that happened to him...It shouldn't have gone down that way. It was all Trisha's fault.”

I clenched and unclenched my sweaty hand. “I know. He told me everything. But he won't take this money back. I'm not sure he can.”

“Then you use it and hire a lawyer for him.”

I slid the duffle toward Bianca. “You're a single mom with four kids. Even you admitted that things were rough. Take this money. When I get back to Northbridge, I'll figure out a way to help him. I work for a really good lawyer. We’ll do what we can for him.”

Bianca hesitated.

I leaned in and whispered, “Between you and me, I'm not sure I can just walk into a law office and hand them a duffle bag with twelve grand and ask them to take on Kieran's case.”

“Tw-twelve grand?”

“I think that's what Kieran told me. I haven't counted. He's been saving for months.”

“What do I do with—”

“Use it to make your life better. That's what Kieran wants.” I pulled out a ballpoint pen and scribbled my number on the bus schedule I'd picked up earlier. “If you ever want to talk, call me. I don't have my phone now, but I'll get it back when I return to Northbridge within the next two days.”

“Are you sure—”

“Positive.” I stood up. “Take care, Bianca. And keep in touch. I should be getting home now.”

“Wait,” Bianca said. “Do you want to say hi to Kara first?”

I paused, looking up at the now lively girl chasing her siblings around in the half-melted snow. “Okay.”

Bianca led me up to Kara. The girl’s trousers were wet, her face streaked with dirt stains. “Kara, come here, I’d like to introduce you to someone.” Bianca turned to me. “Sorry, I never caught your name.”

“Rachelle,” I replied.

Kara stopped playing and ran over to her mom. I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Kara.” Kara was too shy to reach for my hand, but she gave me a small smile that melted my insides. For an instant, she looked just like Kieran. The same piercing eyes and upturned, half-smirking lips. If only he could see her. If I had my phone, I could take a picture...