by Devney Perry
“You suck. I was worried.” Then she disappeared, probably sulking on her bed.
“Oops.” Guilt hit hard. Aria was my number one. I should have remembered a note. “I’m a bad sister.”
“No, you’re not.” Karson put his hand on my shoulder. “Better go apologize.”
“Yeah.” I took a step away but stopped and turned back. “Thank you.”
“You already said that.”
“I know.” My cheeks blushed as he stared at me so intently, as if waiting on my every word. If only that were the case. “Sweet dreams, Karson.”
“Then I’ll have to dream of you.”
I rolled my eyes, covering up the fact that a cheesy line sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my belly. “Flirt.”
He winked. “With you? Always.”
Chapter Three
Clara
“Forty-seven,” Aria said as she wrote it on the wall.
That should have been cause for celebration. We were only forty-seven days from freedom. Why the freaking hell wasn’t I more excited? I mean . . . there was a little bit of anticipation. A lot of nerves. And mostly dread that seemed to grow faster than Aria’s plants as the number ticked lower.
Because in forty-seven days, Karson would be a memory.
He didn’t think we’d ever see the girls again, and what scared me the most was that he didn’t seem to mind never seeing three people that we’d lived and survived alongside. When Aria and I left, would he feel the same?
He’d stayed here for us. He clearly cared, right? Maybe we were different. Maybe . . .
“I was thinking of asking Karson to go with us.” I blurted the thought that had been in the back of my mind for two weeks. “Wherever we go. If you don’t care. I just don’t want him to be alone.”
“That’s cool. I don’t think he will, but I don’t care if you ask.” Aria put the marker away and scooped her hair into a ponytail.
Even though my sister and I were fraternal twins, we had similar features. Our mouths. Our noses. Our brown eyes. And our hair.
Or . . . we used to have the same hair.
Aria had come home with a dye box from the grocery store yesterday. Every week we kept five dollars out of our pay to use on whatever our hearts desired. Mine was normally spent on books or a tabloid magazine—another attempt to be like normal girls my age and fawn over the latest Hollywood heartthrob. Aria had spent hers this week to become a brunette.
“It’s going to take me a while to get used to seeing you with brown hair.”
She smiled and stroked her chocolate strands. “Me too. But I love it.”
If I ever dyed my hair, I was going lighter. Like Londyn. I wanted hair like sunshine.
“Okay.” She sighed, letting her shoulders sag. “We’d better go.”
I stood from my bedroll and followed her out of the truck. We were both working today and even though my shift started an hour after hers did, we were walking into town together. Then she would come to the diner and hang out until I was finished so we could walk home.
The two of us had just started down the path toward the gate when the creak of hinges echoed across the junkyard from Lou’s shack.
Aria and I both looked over as he shuffled out, heading for the fence with a ring of keys in one hand.
We slowed, waiting and watching, as Lou unlocked the padlock on the chain wrapped around the fence’s posts. He hadn’t noticed us yet. Or maybe he had but was just ignoring us. When it came to Lou, I wasn’t sure how much attention he paid to his teenage squatters.
Lou was wearing a white T-shirt, the cotton thin and dingy. Like everything around here, dirt had become a part of its fibers. Aria and I didn’t own a light color, not anymore. Anything we’d brought with us that had been white or a pale shade had been ruined early on. Even with a weekly trip to the laundromat, it was simply too hard to keep whites bright.
Lou’s jeans bagged and sagged on his frame, the faded red suspenders he wore at all times the only thing keeping them up. He was a big man, taller even than Karson.
He would have been a mountain if he had stood straight and pulled his shoulders back. As it was, they were always hunched and curled forward. The gray scruff on Lou’s face covered his jaw. The white hair on his head was oily and stuck up in all directions.
Lou finished with the padlock and shoved the fence open a few feet. Then he turned and trudged back to his shack, not sparing us a glance.
“See?” Aria shot me a smirk as she continued on to the fence. “Told you he loves us.”
“Maybe he has a customer coming.”
“He totally opened the gate for us so we didn’t have to squeeze through the little one today. Because he loves us.”
I laughed. “You’re delusional.”
“You know I’m right.”
Aria wanted to believe there was an adult in this world who looked out for us. Maybe she was right and Lou did care. Part of me wanted to believe it too because we’d never really know.
Lou had hardly spoken to us in years and with just weeks left to go, I doubted we’d ever know the man. Not one of us had set foot inside his shack, even Karson.
Following Aria through the gate, I cast a backward glance over my shoulder to Karson’s tent, but there was no sign of him. I hadn’t seen him in two days.
That time seemed precious now.
I just hoped he hadn’t gotten into any trouble.
“How about Florida?” Aria asked as we started down the road toward town.
“Too far away.”
“But it’s so green and there’s the ocean. I think I’d like the ocean.”
“It’s on the exact opposite side of the country. Traveling that far is going to cost too much. Besides, if you want the ocean, we can just find another place in California.”
“No. Never. I want out of here.” She spoke in a way that said she wouldn’t be back either.
“Um . . . how about Vegas?” I held my breath, hoping she didn’t immediately nix the other idea I’d been toying with lately.
Aria looked at me like I’d grown another arm. “Seriously?”
“It’s not that far away. There are tons of hotels where we could work as housekeepers or whatever. And there’s money there, Aria. It’s Vegas.”
“True,” she muttered, thinking it over for a few moments. “I guess if we didn’t like it, we could leave.”
“Exactly.” A rush of excitement swelled, exactly what I’d been searching for.
We walked a few more steps until she nodded and said, “Okay. Vegas.”
I smiled and did a fist pump with the hand she couldn’t see. I’d thought it would take more convincing. One of the line cooks at the diner had visited Vegas a couple of weeks ago and had told me he was getting ready to move there. He’d spent an entire shift telling me about the Strip and the hotels and how he’d already lined up another job.
The way he’d described the neon lights of the casinos had been so vivid that I’d wanted to see them for myself. There was no way I’d go without Aria. Since I’d convinced her so easily, maybe I could convince Karson too.
He wasn’t set on a certain place, at least not one that he’d told me about. So why not Vegas? The three of us could find a place to rent, an actual apartment with a roof and bedrooms and a bathroom.
Hope for that future blossomed as we walked. Visions of a living room filled with Aria’s plants and a TV for Karson to watch swirled in my mind. Maybe one day, Karson would be watching a movie on that TV and I’d be curled into his side on the couch that we’d picked out together.
“What the hell?” Aria whispered.
“What?”
“Her.” She nodded down the road where a woman was jogging our way.
Any normal kid might not wonder about a woman running on a quiet road, but Aria and I were far from normal.
“Have you ever seen her before?” I asked.
“No. You?”
“Never.” In the nearly three years we’
d been living in the junkyard, not once had we encountered a jogger or pedestrian of any sort on this road. Not once. People didn’t walk around here. And there were many, many roads to run on that were better than ours.
One neighbor, farthest from the junkyard, had five pit bulls. They were contained by the thick fence that surrounded their property, but those dogs loved to bark. The ruckus they could create still startled me at times.
Then there was the neighbor who’d planted the jungle to block out the world. Because the trees and shrubs were so overgrown, walking past the mouth of their driveway was borderline creepy, so we always walked on the opposite side of the street.
The junkyard itself had enough KEEP OUT signs to shingle a mansion’s roof.
Nothing about this road was welcoming. It screamed go away. And this woman running did not belong.
Her dark hair was trapped under a headband that was as electric blue as her leggings. The white of her shirt was nearly blinding under the morning sun. Her fuchsia shoes crunched on the rocks that littered the pavement. Not even the city’s street sweepers came this way.
She was too clean. Too colorful. Too happy.
“Morning.” The woman smiled and waved as she passed us.
Aria and I didn’t respond. We stared at her, our necks twisting to keep her in view as she jogged on by.
“Think she’s lost?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Aria muttered, her legs moving faster. “It’s weird, right? Or am I just getting paranoid?”
“Then I’m paranoid too.”
Maybe other seventeen-year-old kids didn’t get gut feelings, but my sister and I had learned a long time ago to trust our instincts.
“Maybe she just got turned around,” Aria said. “One jog down our road and she’ll never be back.”
“Yeah.”
On cue, the dogs started howling and snapping at the chain link. Aria and I both paused enough to glance back.
The woman yelped and leapt away from the fence. Her hand pressed against her heart. Yet she didn’t turn back. She kept on running, getting closer and closer to the junkyard with each step.
“Come on.” I took Aria’s arm. “You’ll be late.”
She checked her black wristwatch, one that matched mine. “What are you going to do before your shift?”
“I’m going to hit the store. Get some bread and maybe applesauce or something. We’re almost out of peanut butter too.”
“We need cat food.”
“Okay.”
When Katherine had lived with us, she’d adopted this stray cat. The beast was unfriendly to everyone but her, but when she’d left, she’d begged us to keep feeding it. So Aria and I bought the damn thing food, feeding it enough to survive but not so much that it would lose the incentive to hunt mice.
We reached the edge of town and walked past two industrial buildings, then turned down the block that would lead us to an arterial. When we got to the first stoplight, I hugged her goodbye. “Have fun at work.”
“You too. See you later.”
She went one way and I went the other, making my way the seven blocks to the closest grocery store. My shopping didn’t take long. I didn’t have the money to fill a cart or the means to get it home, so I picked out the few items on my list, made it through checkout and found a bench outside to load my haul into my backpack.
I was just zipping it up when a flash of electric blue caught my eye.
The jogger.
I stood straight and faced her.
She was staring at me, hovering beside the store’s brick wall. Her face wasn’t red. Her chest was dry, not even a sheen of sweat above her breasts. No way this lady had gone for a strenuous run.
The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end. With a fast swoop, I swung my bag over a shoulder and scurried away, dodging the few people going in and coming out of the grocery store.
I didn’t look back to see if she’d followed as I hurried to the diner, where I ducked in the rear employee entrance and let the door shut with a slam.
“Hey.” One of the cooks spotted me as he came out of the walk-in refrigerator.
“Hey.” I forced a shaky smile, hovering by the door until he left. Then, when I was alone, I cracked the door open and scanned the alley. The dumpster was overflowing and due to be picked up today. The cars parked next to the building all belonged to the staff.
Besides a crow pecking at a clump of dry grass, the alley was devoid of any life. No lady in electric blue.
“You’re early.”
I jumped at my boss’s voice and let the door close again, turning to face her. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Dishes are waiting.”
I nodded and got to work, stowing my backpack in a small cubby. Then I tied on a grease-stained apron and took my place at the restaurant-grade dishwasher, spending my day scrubbing away syrup and ketchup from thick, heavy ceramic plates.
When Aria arrived an hour before my shift ended, she poked her head in to say hello before retreating into the diner to wait at a small table and drink a Dr. Pepper. The waitresses were supposed to charge for soda and refills, but they never made Aria pay.
The hour she waited was the longest of the day. All I wanted to do was tell her about the creeptastic jogger, and by the time my shift ended, the nervous energy was making my bones rattle. The second we stepped outside, I told her the whole story.
“Do you think she’s a cop?” I asked. “Like, maybe undercover or something. Or a private investigator? Maybe the sick fucker hired her to find us.”
The sick fucker. Our uncle. Aria and I referred to him with a variety of expletives, only speaking his name when necessary.
“Do you think he’s been looking all this time?”
“I don’t know.” The worry on her face made the knot in my stomach bunch tighter. “He’s crazy.”
And after all he’d done—to us, to her—there was no telling how psycho he’d gone after we’d run away. “Let’s just . . . get home.”
Home to the junkyard, where there was a padlock to keep people out. Where there was a maze of scrap metal and broken cars to hide in.
Where there was Karson.
We walked so fast that both Aria and I were panting as we squeezed through the side gate. Between the two of us, we’d kept a constant eye behind us. There’d been no sight of the woman in blue in town, and when we’d hit the road to the junkyard, there’d been no sign of anyone. Even the dogs were absent, probably down for an afternoon nap or snack inside with their owners.
“Tomorrow, we should go in even earlier. Like, mix up our routine,” Aria said as we unloaded our things into the truck.
“Yeah. Good idea. And maybe we don’t walk home right after work. We could go to a park or something.”
She nodded and kicked off her shoes. Then she plucked my newest book off the stack. “Can I read this?”
“Sure. I’m going to go say hi to Karson. Tell him about the jogger.”
“’Kay.” Aria settled on her bed and opened the book to the first page.
She’d be lost in the first chapter before I returned. It was a really good book, maybe good enough to make the take-to-Vegas pile.
I’d take them all if weight and space were unlimited, but I had to pack my entire life’s possessions into bags I could carry. Everything else in the truck would be left behind, because when we left here, I was beginning to realize, we wouldn’t be coming back.
Climbing down from the back of the truck, I made my way to Karson’s tent. When I passed Londyn’s Cadillac, I ran a hand over the top. A twinge of longing and guilt made me pull my hand away. Londyn had been my friend and I had a major crush on her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend.
Not that it mattered. Karson didn’t like me that way.
When I reached the tent, I drew in a steadying breath. Be cool. Don’t smile too much. Don’t stare. Just be cool. Then I rapped my knuckles on the metal siding beside the tarp that was the door.
“Karson?” I called whe
n he didn’t answer.
A groan caught my ear. I hesitated, waiting, then peeled away the tarp to poke my head inside. “Karson?”
“Yeah,” he grunted from his bedroom.
“Are you okay?” I dropped my gaze to my feet. He was a boy—man. My mind immediately went to Karson naked and . . . doing things. To himself.
Freaking romance novels.
“Can I come in?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the image of a naked Karson.
“Yeah.”
I shoved the tarp aside and stepped inside, giving myself a minute to adjust to the dim light. He was lying on his sleeping bag in the fetal position. “Oh my God. Are you sick?”
He hummed his agreement.
I rushed to his side and pressed a palm over his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I’ll be okay. Just need to rest.”
No. This was bad. It was rare that any of us got sick, but it was terrifying when we did. There were no moms here who knew what to do. No doctors to call and ask for advice.
I shoved off the floor and raced out of the tent, running to the truck. “Aria, Karson’s sick.”
“What?” She flew off her bed, the book tossed aside as I vaulted inside.
“Where’s the first aid kit?” I asked even though I was already rushing for the backpack where we kept the small plastic box.
Gemma had gotten sick a couple years ago. It had scared Karson enough that he’d gone to Lou, who’d given him a bottle of Tylenol. After Gemma had left for Montana, the medicine had been given to us in case of emergency.
Today was that emergency.
I ripped the first aid kit open and grabbed the Tylenol, then scanned the truck for the fresh bottle of water I’d bought at the store earlier. From my clean clothes stack, I plucked the last washcloth. Aria and I were planning to go to the laundromat tomorrow so I could wash the others.
“I’m going to stay with him,” I said, jumping down to the dirt.
“Want me to come too?”
I shook my head. “We can’t all get sick.”
She sighed, crossing her arms. “I hate this.”
“Me too. Lock yourself in tonight. I’ll sleep in the tent.”
