The Escape

by Alice Ward

  He frowned. “Think you’ll want to leave the city?”

  I considered it for a long moment. Nothing was really keeping me in New York. Mom and Dad traveled a great deal, and Mom’s tour schedule was becoming more and more nonexistent as she eased into retirement. And if she did agree to do a show, I could fly in from anywhere to help her.

  “I honestly don’t know, man. Love the city, but I might be ready for a change of pace. Been feeling…”

  Shit. I didn’t even know how I’d been feeling. Restless was the closest description, which was stupid when I lived in a city with millions of people and more entertainment options than I could name.

  “Stay with me.”

  I gave him a sidelong look. He appeared to be serious. “I can get a hotel.”

  Grant rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I have plenty of room until you sort things out.”

  He was serious.

  I snorted. “Well, since I’m suddenly poor, it would be helpful.”

  Grant gave me a baleful glare. He knew that was a lie. I wasn’t poor by a long shot. Although I’d just been stripped of several hundred millions of dollars, I had more money rolled into investments than I’d ever need in a hundred lifetimes. If worse came to worse, I could sell some of my toys. After all, how many planes, helicopters, and cars did one man really need?

  “Call the movers. Have them bring your shit to my place. Store what you won’t need in one of my storage units. You can have the upstairs guest suite for as long as you want.”

  I laughed, but it held a note of bitterness I couldn’t completely hide. “It’ll be like college.”

  Grant shot me a concerned look. “God, I hope not. You break it, you buy it.”

  I laughed full-on this time. Yeah… my parties back in college had been epic.

  The more I thought of the idea, the more I liked it. It would save me the time of hunting for a new place, give me time to really consider what I wanted. I’d been wanting different for a while now. Seriously different. Like backpacking across Europe different. Or Australia different. At thirty-three, I was nowhere close to ready to settle down. Maybe I could find a sweet little thing who liked the outdoors too. Someone who didn’t mind camping under the stars or drinking coffee next to a fire.

  Yeah. Different like that sounded appealing.

  I looked over at my friend. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer for a few weeks. Thanks.”

  Grant nodded and began unwrapping his hands.

  I frowned. “We done here already? Don’t want to go another round or two?”

  He kept unwrapping. “Not tonight. I stumbled into a situation with a couple of my tenants and ended up firing the building super. Got some shit to do that’s weighing on my mind.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  He lifted a shoulder, his face carefully blank, which indicated that the memory was an emotional one. Grant rarely showed emotion of any kind. If he wasn’t such a successful businessman, he would have made a killing in poker. “I’ll deal with it. Who is this Cassandra Brown of the Massachusetts Browns anyway?”

  I snorted and accepted the change of subject. “I think I met her at some shindig or another a few years back, but I googled her to make sure. Same one indeed. Classic blonde and beautiful. Got her master’s degree in museum studies, if you can believe that’s even a damn degree, at some preppy all girl college that focuses more on manners than expandin’ the mind.”

  Grant shook his head. “I repeat… archaic. To raise a female child to be bartered off to the best name or bank account.” He wadded the tape into a tight knot. “Just when I think civilization has evolved, it’s things like this that remind me of how truly primal we still are. Cold-blooded, self-serving sons of bitches, all of us.”

  I gave a mock shudder. “Speaking of cold-blooded, can you imagine snuggling up to such a purebred on a snowy winter’s night?”

  He shot me another of his patented baleful glares, but I ignored him. “I can’t imagine snuggling up to anything on any night. Damn women.” He paused for a long moment before adding, “Except…”

  I whipped my head around to look at him. “Except what? Except who?”

  He pushed to his feet. “Except nothing. It’s nothing.”

  I jumped to my feet too. “Nothin’ hell. Did you meet someone?” I searched for a clock inside the gym. “Only a few hours after kickin’ Melissa out of your house?”

  “Michelle.”

  “Who the hell ever.” I followed him to the locker room and leaned against the door. “Who is she…?”

  He kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, reminding me that I needed to hit the weights more. Old man or not, my buddy was ripped. But the weight room was where he worked his frustrations out. I ran. Swam. Climbed. Anything that kept me moving. I had plenty of muscle too, but more Michael Phelps than Jason Momoa.

  I started removing the tape on my hands too, still waiting for him to answer. When he didn’t, I decided to let it drop. He’d tell me when he was ready. Besides, I needed to call the movers and then take a run, get more of this frustration out of me.

  “I’m headin’ to the park, then I’ll meet the movers at your place.”

  Grant grabbed a towel, tossed it over his shoulder. “I’ll let the front desk and Anne know the situation. They’ll help however you need.”

  I nodded, knowing his unflappable primary housekeeper could handle anything. “Thanks.”

  He met my gaze. “Anytime. Seriously.”

  I left the locker room, pulling the rest of the tape off my hands as I went, made the call, then hit the sidewalk outside the gym in a full-on run. Fifth Avenue was a bitch like usual, but I weaved around the pedestrians with ease and hit Central Park near the zoo entrance.

  Picking up speed, I pounded the frustrations of the day out of me, imagining my foot smashing into my grandfather’s face with each step. After the first mile, I began to feel some of the stress leaking out of my pores.

  To be honest, I had very little in my life to stress about. Born into wealth and privilege to two parents who loved me dearly, I’d never spent a day dealing with the worries most people were consumed by. My worst day until today was when my dog died three years ago. I’d had Rex since he was a pup and his death hit me hard. Other than that, I dealt with my grandparents by doing my best to piss them off. I didn’t normally take their upper crust pretentious bullshit seriously… until today.

  Today pissed me off.

  And it was also a reminder that, at nearly thirty-four years old, I wasn’t a kid anymore. A reminder that I did have some responsibilities as a human being on this planet. A reminder that it was time to do something more worthwhile in my life than manage my mother’s legacy and fuck women.

  And speaking of fucking women… a tight little ass caught my eye.

  Damn.

  Up ahead, a long-legged brunette appeared to be teaching a yoga class to a group of senior citizens. She bent over and… fuck. There was nothing little about that ass. It was full and toned under the electric blue yoga pants she wore.

  Running closer, I began to hear her shout out instructions to the group, her voice pitched high, probably so they could understand her clearly. She also shouted encouragements, and I could hear the laughter and happiness in her tone. Watched her leap forward to help someone older than my grandmother keep her back straight. The elderly lady didn’t lose her Zen, just kept on going, nearly touching her forehead to her knees. Impressive.

  A long rope of thick dark hair swung from side to side as the girl in electric blue bounded back into place and began the new series of instructions for the group. They were all smiling, seeming to enjoy their session very much. For some reason, I wanted to join them too. Smile like they were smiling, reaching up to the sky like there wasn’t a care in the world.

  Slowing to a jog and then even slower, until I was essentially running in place, I kept my eye on the woman in the front of the group, drawn to her for some reason I couldn’t under
stand.

  Bright, giggling laughter filled the air, grabbing my attention. When I located the source, I couldn’t stop from laughing too as a young woman with what I thought might be Down Syndrome pushed herself up from the ground, brushing off her knees and butt after apparently losing her balance.

  Back on her feet, she resumed the exercises, a big smile on her face as she leaned over and touched one hand toward the ground while raising one to the sky. She nearly lost her balance again, steadied herself and held it in place. Good for her. Good for them all.

  “Breathe in and lift…”

  My girl took the few men and mostly women through another pose, and then…

  There was a cry, a yell. One of the elderly women fell to the ground, shouting out an indignant, “Hey!” Then I spotted the problem. A man in a hoodie picked something up beside her and raced off, sprinting like a demon was on his ass.

  “Thief!” someone yelled.

  And before I could fully comprehend what just happened, there was a blur of electric blue.

  The girl with the fantastic ass was racing after the man.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Journey

  “Breathe in…”

  I smiled as I watched all sixteen of my participants inhale deeply, their hands in the prayer position. As I took them through the warm-up exercises, I watched them closely, ready to step in if needed. The youngest of my senior group was sixty-two. The eldest was eighty-four. She was my hero. Strong and still amazingly flexible, Lois was the type of senior citizen I hoped to one day be.

  Because this class was for seniors, I took them through the gentle Sukshma yoga movements before transitioning into Hatha, guiding them into the next pose.

  “Inhale as you raise your arms toward the sky, keeping your shoulders nice and relaxed. Gently stretch to the left as you exhale.” Mmm… it felt so good, letting all my troubles leave me for a bit. “Inhale, and move back to center. Exhale, and stretch to the right.”

  I smiled back at Jazzy as we moved into the next pose. She was almost always so happy. It was like the sun shone only for her. Even when she lost her balance and fell on her butt, she just laughed, dusted herself off and tried again.

  Falling down is an accident. Staying down is a choice.

  Another quote from Mee-maw. So many words of wisdom to carry us through our lives.

  Bringing my participants back to center, I began another series. “Breathe in and lift…”

  I smiled at the group. Then my smile faded as I spotted a man in a black hoodie racing toward our group. Before I could react or even understand his true intentions, he pushed Lois down and scooped up her purse before taking off in a sprint.

  Rage fired through me like a bullet, chased by a shot of adrenaline so hot I felt it burning through my veins.

  How dare he!

  There was no time for any other thought as my legs took charge, and I was racing after the asshole. Did he really think he could get away with stealing from an elderly woman? Not if I could manage to get my hands on him. Especially not today. Not when my emotions were so near the surface. I’d rather run until I was exhausted than cry anyway.

  I was sick and tired of the elderly being robbed… of their possessions, their hope, their comfort, and their dignity. Tired of people thinking they could take whatever they wanted. That they had some right to what wasn’t theirs.

  Charles Sr.’s face sprang to my mind, and another kick of adrenaline lit a fire under my feet. I imagined the man in front of me was him, that he was running with the key to the apartment Mee-maw had worked so many years to take care of, the apartment she wanted us to have.

  By some miracle, I began to catch up to the asshole, anger fueling me on, hot air burning in and out of my lungs. The man had gotten a good head start and I was about twenty yards behind. Then I was a little closer. Closer.

  “Thief!” I yelled through heaving lungs. “Stop him! Thief!”

  People looked in our direction, but no one moved to help out. That just pissed me off more. With or without their assistance, I’d chase him into New Jersey if I had to.

  The man looked back, caught my eye. And that was his mistake. With his next step, his foot caught on something I couldn’t see, and he went flying through the air. I inwardly cheered and bore down on him, but he wasn’t down completely. He rolled, jumped to his feet, and took off again, limping a bit but still fast.

  “Thief!” I yelled again when I was only about ten yards away. He didn’t look back this time. Didn’t slow.

  Neither did I. I could see Lois’s purse tucked under his arm, and imagined that inside it was every penny she possessed. It made me faster. Made me ignore the stitch in my side.

  Eight yards.

  Six.

  Four.

  Two.

  One.

  I reached out my hand to catch the back of his hoodie, victory nearly in my grasp. From the corner of my eye, a figure blurred by me. Before I could process what was happening, the thief was being dragged to the ground, and he and another man took several rolls before landing in a heap. The newcomer was up first, his knee in the asshole’s back, his hand on his head, holding him down.

  I skittered to a halt and went down on my knees too, grabbing for Lois’s purse, snatching it from his possession.

  I looked up, and… wow, gazed into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, set in a face more handsome than sin. He was breathing hard. I was too, our hot exhalations mingling in the space between us as we held down the struggling man. Both of us dripped sweat, faces red, hair sticking to our skin. But we smiled at each other as a mounted patrolman galloped up, dismounted, and took over.

  My fellow purse snatcher pursuer was tall, dark, and handsome… very similar in coloring to Grant Sommerfield, except for the eyes. This man wasn’t as broad either. Leaner. Well-muscled but more like a swimmer.

  Why was I thinking of Grant Sommerfield?

  Before I could examine the question, the man in front of me grinned wider, and it was then that I realized I’d been staring. I blushed and pushed to my feet, wiping my hands on my cotton tank.

  “I’m Nash,” he said, reaching out his hand.

  Nash? Like Nashville, Tennessee? What an interesting name.

  Long fingers closed around mine as I shook it. His smile was so contagious, I couldn’t stop from smiling back. “Journey. Thank you for your help.”

  “Glad I could. Was runnin’ by your group and saw the whole thing happen.”

  A southern gentleman by the number of vowels in that sentence — maybe he really was from Nashville — and the easy way he spoke put me immediately at ease. And those eyes. A much deeper blue than my own, they were flicked with pinpricks of white within their depths. A scruff of a beard covered a strong jaw, seeming to highlight his full lips.

  The patrolman interrupted, taking our attention just as Jasmine came huffing and puffing up beside me. “Are you okay?” She started to kick the shoe of the man still lying on the ground, but I grabbed her arm, stopping her with a laugh. This kicking thing was new, and we’d have to talk about how inappropriate it was later. I had no idea why she’d started being physical.

  “Hi.”

  Both Jazzy and I looked up at Nash, who was still smiling. Jazzy blushed and looked up at him through her lashes, her chin nearly to her chest. “Hi.”

  He stuck out a hand. “I’m Nash.”

  Jazzy’s blush grew deeper, and she seemed to have lost her voice, so I did the introductions myself. “This is my sister, Jasmine. Jaz or Jazzy to the world.”

  The patrolman cleared his throat, looking from me to Nash and back again. “I just have a few questions for you both.”

  Nash waved a hand in a ladies first gesture, and I stepped away to answer the who, what, and when questions I’d been expecting, then stepped aside as Nash did the same thing.

  Soon, the entire yoga group caught up to us, some faster than others. Lois grabbed her purse and held it to her chest. “Than
k you, Journey. My grocery money was in there.”

  I wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “Just glad he didn’t get away with it.”

  She sighed and readjusted the yoga mat tucked under her arm. “Guess I’ll have to break down and buy a fanny pack after all,” the eighty-four-year-old said. “Didn’t want to because I was afraid it’d make me look old.”

  I laughed. “Nothing could do that, Lois. In fact, I’m betting you’ll bring the fanny pack back in style.”

  She grinned. The woman still had her own teeth and surprisingly few wrinkles. She told me once that Vaseline applied nightly was her secret. I might need to buy me a tub or two. “I’ll think about it, that’s for sure. It never occurred to me that someone would be so brazen as to do something so horrible, at least, not in the wide open, daylight and everything.”

  “People are brazen about a lot of things,” I told her, wondering if I was wrong to keep Jasmine in the big city. Maybe it would be safer to find a little seaside community or small town somewhere in the mountains.

  I just didn’t know.

  I never felt completely assured that I was doing the right thing by her… by me. My experience in the world was so limited.

  We lived and went to school all within the same few blocks of our apartment. There really was no reason to go outside of our little space in the world. College had opened me up to new people and experiences, but I’d never lived on campus, instead biking back and forth for classes. And I’d been happy to do so. Maybe it was time to be open to more options… more choices.

  A shadow fell over me, and I looked over to see that Nash was back, the big smile still on his face. I waited while Lois thanked him for his help and then my band of yoga participants went on their way, deciding that since the class had been almost over anyway, they’d see me on Thursday.

  A part of me was glad. I still felt shaky from all the day’s events and wasn’t sure I could lead them back into that Zen space. And I just wanted to go home, pack mine and Jaz’s things and lose myself in a couple days of hotel living.