Trucker (The Good Guys #1)(28)

"You …  wh-what?" I stuttered as I tried to comprehend what she was saying. She couldn't possibly be that much of a bitch, right?

"I already told them. They're probably on their way here," she said, her  face filled with triumph. "Maybe you should get going. If you hurry,  they might miss you."

Kendra stood casually with her hands in her back pockets, relaxing  against the door frame as though she hadn't just decimated my world.

Okay, so maybe she really was that much of a bitch. I slammed the door  in her bitchy face without bothering to say one more word.

"Shit. Shit shit shit," I chanted as I ran around the apartment stuffing  my belongings into my backpack. I didn't swear very often-at least, not  out loud-but maybe Beverly's bad-language habits were rubbing off on  me.

Or maybe this situation just called for a few ‘shits'.

What was I going to do? Where could I go?

If I went to Travis, there was no way he would let me leave and I couldn't let him lose everything he'd worked so hard for.

Now that I thought about it, Kendra was right-he could get into big trouble for helping me.

If they found me, what would they do? Drag me back to Maine? Honestly, I  didn't even care about that at this point. But I couldn't let them find  me here, in Travis's apartment.

This was my mess and I wouldn't let him get dragged into it.





ANGEL

"Beverly?" I frantically rapped on the door then continued knocking when she didn't answer right away. "Beverly!"

I heard shuffling of feet and a ‘hold your horses!' from inside before  the door swung open. The screen door creaked as Beverly opened it to  peer into my face.

"What's wrong?" She looked worried as she took in my haggard appearance.

"Do you have a car?" I asked, breathless from running the whole way.  "And a driver's license?" I added, wondering if people her age could  still drive. I didn't have time to consider the possibility she might be  offended.

"Of course I do," she said haughtily as she straightened her shoulders.  "I passed the test just last year, and I won't stop driving ‘til they  tell me I can't anymore."

A sigh of relief left me. "Good. That's great. Could you possibly drive me to a bus station? Or a train station?"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Her eyes narrowed at me through her thick glasses.

I probably looked as panicked as I felt. My hair was still slightly damp  and sticking to the sweat on my neck and forehead. My cheeks felt  flushed and I was still breathing heavily.

"Something like that." I nodded.

She stared at me for a few seconds before seeming to come to a decision. "Alright. Let me get my things together."

I followed her inside as she gathered her purse and took off her  housecoat. I never knew what she wore underneath it-she always had it  on. I'd just assumed she liked to be comfortable. If I was her age, I'd  stay in my pajamas all day, too.

Imagine my surprise when I saw the woman was dressed to impress. She  wore black slacks and a white blouse with a black floral design. It was  like she was ready for action at any moment. I would've been able to  appreciate the hilarity of it if the circumstances had been different.

Beverly tied a white scarf over her head and smiled, seeming oblivious  to my inner torment. "I haven't had a trip into the city in ages. This  is going to be so fun!"

*

An air freshener in the shape of a palm tree dangled from the rearview  mirror, filling the car with a tropical scent as we drove out of Tolson.

Beverly squinted through her giant glasses and adjusted them on her  face. Her white-knuckled hands were positioned at ten and two on the  wheel, and I suddenly wondered if asking her for a ride had been a very  bad idea.

Moving along at a snail's pace, some very pissed-off people passed us.  Some laid on their horns, a few yelled obscenities out their windows,  and we were on the receiving end of one middle finger.

I peered over at the speedometer and noticed we were barely going twenty on a road with a fifty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit.

"People are always in such a hurry these days," she muttered, shaking her head and clucking her tongue.

With the radio off the silence was unnerving, and there was nothing to  distract me from my current situation. I thought about making  conversation with Beverly, but I didn't want to distract her from  driving. Obviously, she was concentrating very hard on not running us  off the road.                       
       
           



       

My hands twisted in my lap and I pressed my lips together to keep from  urging her to go faster. Anxiously, I looked into the rearview mirror  several times, expecting to see red and blue flashing lights behind us,  but, thankfully, that never happened.

A trip that should have taken twenty-five minutes took closer to an  hour, and I finally let out the breath I'd been holding when we pulled  into the train station's parking lot. Beverly shut off the car and  started to get out.

"Oh, you don't have to come in with me," I said, feeling like I'd  already inconvenienced her enough. "I'm really grateful for the ride."

"Of course I'm coming in with you," she insisted. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure you got your ticket?"

Once we were inside, I looked at the large clock over the ticket  counter. It was 3:50pm and the next train to St. Louis didn't leave  until 5:15. Travis would already know I was gone by then. In fact, he  would probably find out within the next fifteen minutes because he was  supposed to get done at the shop at four.

My heart squeezed painfully when I thought about him coming home to find  me gone. I'd been in such a hurry that I didn't even leave a note.

Would he hate me for this? It was a possibility.

But he'd hate me more if my careless decisions got him arrested or made him lose his job.

I scanned the train station, wondering if anyone would recognize me.  Every time someone looked up from their phone, I was afraid they would  point at me and say I was that missing girl they saw on the internet,  but no one even gave me a second glance.

I wasn't even sure what my plan was, but I guess I'd have time to think about it on the train.

Once I purchased my ticket, Beverly handed me a piece of paper with her  phone number written on it. "Don't be a stranger. Call me soon, ya  hear?"

"I will," I promised, trying to keep the tears at bay. Blinking rapidly,  I watched her walk out the sliding doors. In such a short time, she had  become my best friend.

I'd known my time in Tolson was limited, but I hadn't expected it to end this soon. Not like this.

Feeling defeated, I trudged over to a bench, away from most of the  people so I could be alone. As I sat down, I let the first tear fall.





TRAVIS

Coming home to an empty apartment wasn't unusual, so when Angel wasn't  there, I didn't think anything of it. I figured she'd lost track of time  over at Beverly's, so I decided to walk the few blocks to her house.  She'd been spending a lot of time over there during the day and it made  me smile when I thought about how well she fit in here.

Sixty-year age difference aside, those two were thick as thieves.

As I approached the little white house, my heart raced at the thought of seeing Angel. It was always this way.

I missed her all day while I was at the shop, and the anticipation of  being with her, touching her, talking to her-it made my whole body feel  energized, like I'd just downed a whole pot of coffee.

The strangest part was that once I was with her, she had the opposite  effect-I felt calm. Peaceful. My body seemed to be addicted to the  whiplash she unknowingly gave me.

I was knocking on the screen door when I heard tires squealing. Looking  over my shoulder, I was shocked to see Beverly's ancient Cadillac  careening around the corner. The old car bounced and groaned as she came  to a screeching halt in her driveway.

She flew out of the driver's seat and moved way faster than any person her age should.

"You better go get your girl. I had to drive like a bat outta hell to  get back in time to tell you," she practically shouted at me.

"Tell me what?" I asked as an unpleasant feeling came over me.

"She's at the train station. Poor thing was terrified. Something scared  her real bad and she's leaving." Beverly's chest heaved with exertion.

"Shit," I swore as I started running down the porch steps.

"Her train leaves at 5:15. You better hurry!" she called after me, but I was already halfway down the block.

I shoved my keys into the ignition of my Chevy and it rumbled to life. Gravel went flying as I tore out of the parking lot.

When I got out onto the open road, I pushed the pedal down to the floor.  I'd be breaking a lot of speed limits if I wanted to make it to the  train station on time.

Hopefully I didn't get pulled over. I didn't even care about a speeding  ticket, but I didn't have the time to stop. The clock on the dash told  me it was almost 4:25.