Leaving it still made her feel bad. What if something happened to it?
She should probably call a cab, but she hadn't done that for so long she was uncertain how. Luckily, technology could solve a minor problem like that.
"Siri, I need a taxi."
How did people live before smartphones? She remembered not having one, but it was another life. Another world.
It took forever before the cab came, but once it arrived the way home was much shorter than she wanted it to be. Without Jimmy the house was large and lonely, and she paced the rooms.
There must be someone she could call and ask for help. One of the TV lawyers, maybe?
It would take time, and if she used the phone he wouldn't be able to reach her if he needed her. She could Skype a lawyer, but which one?
She chewed her lip and looked around the living room. Not long ago it had been hers, just the way she wanted it, and living there alone had been normal. Now every surface echoed with memories of him. Even the damn rug.
What if he never came back?
Had he really done something, or were they just picking on him?
I didn't expect the police to be on a first name basis with him. You have to be pretty well known before people remember your name.
Worst-case scenario, he might be gone for a long time.
Years.
Maybe decades.
The thought made her wail with a pain that was almost physical.
She circled the room a couple of times, went to the kitchen, and made coffee. The dark brew reminded her too much of him, and she had to pour it out so the scent wouldn't make her weep.
She needed to act. Would Google have advice on something like this?
No, sitting by the computer would be too passive. She should go down to the police station and wait. There would be people there to ask.
She was innocent, hadn't done anything worse than speeding in her life, and they had to give her advice, right?
Grabbing her jacket and her keys, she headed for the door, and almost didn't hear the phone ring.
"Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm fine."
Relief made her legs fold and she sank down on the floor, resting her back against the wall.
"I was so worried for you."
I wish I could say that in a steady voice. Can he hear that I'm crying? I'm such a wuss.
Jimmy's voice soothed her. "I know, but everything's fine. I'm gonna go get my bike, and I have some things to do. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Okay?"
No, please come home now so I can see you. He said home. Does he feel home here now? That's encouraging.
His voice was too persuading and she heard herself say, "Okay," even though she wasn't anywhere near okay.
"They take us in every now and then, but they don't have anything to hold me on."
Hold him on? What did that mean? That he had indeed done bad things and the police just lacked evidence? That he was good at getting away?
Is there something you're not telling me? Am I just suspicious, or are you lying?
So many questions and not even one answer.
Jimmy's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "I'll be home soon, I promise. I'll bring dinner."
"Please hurry."
The couple of hours he promised turned into almost four, and by the time he walked through the door her imagination had painted out a hundred scenarios where she'd never see him again. He could have been killed by the other gang members, he could be tortured by them to see if he revealed anything to the police—she wasn't sure what he might reveal, but there were surely secrets—or the officers might have picked him up again.
She threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest.
"Shh, I'm here, it's okay." His arms around her were strong and comforting, and he sounded a little amused. "Look, there are plenty of people wanting me dead, but the police aren't it."
That wasn't reassuring at all. She groaned, and he chuckled, "I'm joking."
"Not funny. You're not funny."
"I'm not used to having someone worry for me. It's been a hell of a day, but not because of the police."
Then what? Your friends giving you trouble? Maybe you should stop hanging with them?
She clenched her jaw and forced the words to stay inside her head. Starting a fight wouldn't make anything better.
Jimmy gave her a good squeeze, picked up a bag with take-out food she hadn't even noticed, and headed for the kitchen.
"Do we have any booze?"
"Probably, above the fridge. Why?"
He dropped the merry façade and allowed his shoulders to slump, but straightened up again when he found a bottle of scotch.
"Trust me, you don't want to know."
Maybe I need to know.
He filled a glass and took a sip, and his eyes pleaded with her not to ask.
"Jimmy..."
"Let's just have dinner, okay? I won't drink myself stupid, scout's honor."
"Yes, because you're such a boy scout."
The very thought made her smile. She pressed a palm against his cheek and her lips against his. He seemed surprised, but wrapped his arms around her, still holding the drink.
"It's amazing. Even after a day like this, you make me believe there's hope."
*****
When Jimmy left the house the following day he had a hangover and wished he could have stayed in bed with Sharon.
Ain't no rest for the wicked. Maybe I should rephrase that; the wicked refuse to rest, so I can't either.
The neighbor's driveway held a silver sedan, quietly idling, and two blonde heads stuck up in the back seat.
Seriously? Today too? I've had enough of this shit with idiots torturing animals and small children. I have to do something about those dogs at the club.
Grumbling in his mind, he crossed the lawn with a few long steps, made sure to arrange his face into a non-threatening smile, and banged on the door. He heard voices on the other side, and forced down an instinct to rub his eyes. He leaned an arm against the doorframe instead.
A man's voice drifted through the door, "No, you know we don't open. Are you begging to get shot?"
A woman's voice answered, "I saw him through the window, it's just the neighbor's guy. I don't think he's here to shoot you."
"Fine. Don't blame me when a biker gang stomps in here and rapes you."
The door flew open and a man peeked out. From the corner of his eye, Jimmy saw Sharon step out of the house, and he waved to her before flashing a smile and pointing over his shoulder.
"That car... You guys should take the kids inside."
A second woman's voice yelled, "What the fuck, they're none of your fucking business."
What a good role model. I bet you a thousand bucks your sons will end up in juvie.
The first woman's voice sounded tired.
"See, I've been telling you two the boys shouldn't sit out there. You keep them there for hours every day. Seriously, this biker-dude sees it..."
"Well I don't have a fucking babysitter now, do I?"
The women were complete contrasts. One could have stepped right out of the gang's club, and the other wore a suit and her hair in a bun, looking like she was on her way to work. Or, deeming from the weary look, maybe she just came home.
Office-woman snapped, "If you make children, you have to take care of them. That's why I don't have any."
Sharon stepped up next to him. "What's up?"
Jimmy rested a hand on her shoulder and fixed office-woman's eyes with his. He hadn't expected any support inside the house, and he needed to bond with this new ally.
He cleared his throat. "I'm just sayin' it's not good for them. They should be outside playing, running, doing stuff. Sitting still in a car for hours every day ain't natural."
It was hard to sound relaxed when it came to abused kids, but many years of practice paid off.
The young woman rolled her eyes. "Fuck. I don't have to listen to this shi
t. I'll be back some time this moron isn't here."
Office-woman lifted an eyebrow. "You know what? That's not necessary, you don't have to be here every day."
The man looked up at the ceiling, seemingly asking a higher power for strength.
Oh, you poor SOB. Stuck between two women, what joy.
The mother pushed her way past them, slammed the door to the car, and took off so quickly the wheels screeched. Sharon exhaled, and pressed herself a little closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
He liked that she stood by his side. She clearly didn't like conflict, but she was still there.
The man seemed to make his mind up. He grabbed a wallet off a shelf, made his way past them, and into a car without a word.
To Jimmy's surprise, office-woman smiled. "Finally some peace and quiet. You two want some coffee?"
He glanced over at Sharon. She had stood in silence, watching everything with wide eyes, and now she shook her head. As much as he wanted to humor her and retreat, he needed to know more about the children.
"You know what? A cup of coffee would be awesome. Just what I need to scare this headache away. C'mon, babe."
When he stepped into the house, the woman reached out a well-manicured hand.
"I don't think we've met. I'm Helen, and it's a pleasure." She eyed his vest. "I always thought you guys would be scary, hope you don't mind me saying so."
If you only knew.
"Some are. I'm not. Sorry to mess up your day."
"My husband has a bad temper but he'll be back. He's probably relieved, he rants over her for an hour every day when she leaves, but he doesn't have the heart to say no to her face."
"Who is that girl?" Sharon sounded curious.
"They're cousins."
Helen put mugs on the table and pulled out a package of digestive crackers and cream cheese.
"I just got home, and I'm so friggin' hungry. Help yourselves."
Sharon fidgeted and Jimmy winked at her. Telling her the truth would be a relief, but at the moment verity wasn't an option. He grabbed a cracker instead, smeared cheese on it, and tucked it into her hand. She rewarded him with a smile.
Good.
When they were all seated, Helen stared at her coffee cup.
"I'm glad you knocked on the door. I feel so bad for those kids. I mean, if they sit here for hours, imagine what the rest of their days must be like."
"Do they have a dad?"
Helen shrugged. "Everyone has a dad. Coke-head. He shot her after the first kid, but she went right back and had another one. Evidently, almost killing the ones you love is okay if you're high."
I like this chick.
"Is she using too?"
"Probably. I haven't been to their house, I refuse to go there, but from what I hear it's pretty bad. The boys sleep on the floor, and they have cockroaches. I sometimes see the bugs run from her car." She shuddered. "When I think about it, sitting outside my house might be the highpoint of their day."
He nodded. Interesting how she called it her house and not their.
Sharon asked, "Why doesn't she bring them in?"
Helen smirked. "The first time she came here I made it clear I'm not going to babysit. I already work two jobs, and that's enough. She keeps asking, and I keep saying no. If she brings them in, she'll have to take care of them. Leave them in the car, she can forget about them for a while."
Jimmy tried to sound natural. "Can I use your restroom?"
"Sure, it's probably in the same place as yours. I think all these houses look the same."
It was exactly the same as Sharon's, but with a green sink instead of marble, and with a flowered shower curtain instead of a sliding shower wall.
He closed the door behind him and pulled up the phone.
"Hey, Bishop, I need you to run a plate for me. Can you have child services check out the address?"
*****
Later in the day, Sharon peeked out to see Jimmy's bike outside, but there was no trace of the man. She opened the door and peeked out. "Jimmy?"
No answer. The garage door was closed and the back yard empty.
Maybe aliens abducted him? Or, maybe the police snatched him up again.
That thought made her heart feel cold.
Just as she was about to submit to panic, she saw a tall shape bent over the neighbor's old Ford. Definitely Jimmy, pottering about under the hood.
She plodded over there barefoot, enjoying the feeling of grass under her feet. Were the neighbors about to be their best friends now, or what was he up to?
"What are you doing?"
He peeked out oily, but wearing a big grin.
"Hey beautiful, I invited Frank and Helen over for a barbie. That's okay, right?"
How have I lived next door to them for so long without knowing their names?
"In that case, I'm calling Mona."
"Tell her to bring beer." It didn't take long before the engine purred and he patted the fender. "Better than new. See you in a few, Frank."
Sharon followed him to the back yard and watched him push her beautiful, stainless, gas-fueled grill to the side.
"You have a real one in the garage. If we are to cook, we cook the right way."
"That coal has been on the shelf for years. It won't burn."
"Of course it will."
I didn't think I'd see that old coal-burning dragon again. I like my new grill. It was expensive. Oh well, he'll never get that thing started.
Jimmy whistled between his teeth as he tore off pieces of the coal bag, crumpling them into little balls. He clearly had a magic touch: the fire started just fine and the bed of coal was almost ready when Mona arrived.
Jimmy looked at her and smirked. "I didn't recognize you without the shotgun."
Just for once she seemed flustered. That almost never happened.
When she didn't answer, he winked, clearly trying to make her feel better.
"It's good that you look out for each other. Especially when dealing with guys like me."
"Oh, I don't know, I think you are kinda cute with your matching clothes. I bet those skull rings saying one percent match too. You need a Hello Kitty badge to complete the middle school girl look, but I'm sure Sharon can sew one on the vest for you."
An expression of sheer surprise flew over Jimmy's face, and for a moment Sharon thought he'd be angry. He had never been angry or impatient thus far, but some time had to be the first, and this was a pretty severe insult.
She didn't know much about the one percent outlaw gangs, but Google had informed her respect was important.
A second later, Jimmy roared with laughter and ended up having to sit on the grass, drying his eyes.
Sharon exchanged a glance with Mona, who mouthed, "Is he high?"
I don't think so. I hope not. Doesn't seem his style.
Jimmy gave a loud huffing noise, clearly struggling to settle down.
"Good one. I needed that."
Chapter Seven
As much as Sharon wanted to think about other things, like work, her mind obsessed over her questions about Jimmy.
They had never decided to live together, but he had clearly moved in. They spent so much time together and he was the center of her world, but who was he, really?
All her attempts to pry were unsuccessful.
She said, "You know my friends. When will I meet yours?"
He had met nearly everyone she knew, and she almost felt guilty for the way she showed him off.
He gave the same answer he always did. "You won't."
That didn't seem fair. "But..."
He fixed his eyes on her. "Let it go."
Maybe she was too normal? Too gray and boring?
"Are you ashamed of me or something?"
Jimmy laughed, but fell serious when she didn't join in.
"It's not like that at all. Other way around. These aren't people I want you to meet."
"How do you know I don't want to meet the
m?"
He made a pacifying gesture. "I want you to be safe and think good thoughts of me. You wouldn't like them anyway."
That was probably a valid point. She didn't exactly believe the stereotypes presented by media, Jimmy sure didn't live up to them, but she was an extremely law abiding citizen. All this anarchy stuff wasn't for her.
"I just... I don't know anything about you. I want to be a part of your life."
He wrapped his arms around her waist and gazed into her eyes. "You are a part of my life."
She didn't answer, and he tugged her closer. "A big, important, pleasurable part of my life. I don't know how I lived without you."
"Flatterer."
"Maybe, but it's not flattery if it's true."
He sighed, released his grip on her, and wandered over to the window.
Sharon crossed her arms over her chest. "What's wrong?"
"It's a bad time to tell you this, but I need to go away for a couple of days."
"What? Why?"
Did she bring this down on herself by being too curious?
Being alone held no appeal whatsoever. It was pretty clear he wouldn't let her come to wherever he was going, and she couldn't ask him to stay. Dammit.
"It's a charity drive. We'll be camping."
"Camping?"
Way to go, sounding like an echo.
He glanced back over his shoulder and winked.
"There will be girls, guns, and booze, and I won't even look at the girls, because I'll be pining for you."
This time she gave in to his charm; she couldn't help but laugh. She still whacked a bulging bicep. "You're a rotten liar."
"I'm not lying. I'll suffer every minute and wish I were here with you."
The solution to the problem seemed easy to her. "So, don't go."
I will miss you so much. Please don't go.
"I have to."
She could debate with reasons, but not with those simple words.
"Just come back in one piece, will you."
The look in his eyes said she was cute and silly. Then, his words sank in.
"Did you say charity run? Charity?"
"Oh yeah, the VP loves that shit. He says it's good for our image and shows what law abiding citizens we are."
Covert Identity Page 5
