“And you’re going to need me to make a name for yourself at the news station,” Remy added. “Your real goal is the be the next Barbara Walters, even if achieving that goal means cavorting around town with a convicted killer. Isn’t that right?”
Jason suddenly snapped his fingers. “Dammit, I knew I recognized you. ‘This is Violet Chambers, over and out,’ ” Jason sang, in a high pitched voice while throwing a dainty, two-fingered salute off of his forehead.
Remy gave Jason a you have no idea what you’ve just done shake of his head just as Violet lost it.
“Excuse me, sir? I do not say ‘over and out.’ I have never in my life said ‘over and out.’ ”
Jason and Remy both looked to each other and shrugged.
“Anyway…” Violet rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck in the process before nodding toward Jason. “Yeah, that’s me. And that would make you…?”
The two men looked at each other once more, but neither answered. With blank faces, they looked back to Violet.
Their silence was all the answer she needed. “So how long have you two been together?”
Remy cocked his head. “Together?”
“Yeah, I mean… you’re obviously lovers.”
“What?” Remy cringed.
Violet held her hands out in mock apology. “Oh, excuse me… ‘life partners,’” she corrected with finger quotes. “Didn’t realize this was the politically correct crowd tonight.”
The blank stares continued.
Violet balked at their stunned faces before reacting. “Well the two of you haven’t been able to keep your paws off each other since the moment you were reunited. And this one…” She motioned to Jason. “Just made a Fifty Shades of Grey reference. With a straight face. I mean, honestly.” She held her arms out at her sides after she’d made her point, her mouth tilting ever so slightly as she grinned at them. “If that’s not a homosexual, then I just don’t know what is.”
“Not a homosexual,” Jason immediately countered, calmly, hands placed squarely on his hips.
“Not gay,” Remy reiterated.
“At all,” Jason shook his head.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Nope. Not gay.”
“Kay.” Violet finally had to hold up a hand to silence them. They were clearly ready to go on all day denying their homosexuality, so she decided to put them out of their misery. She had to admit, she was a little embarrassed about how relieved she was that Remy wasn’t gay. It meant that she hadn’t imagined whatever had been happening between them since the moment they’d met. “Okay, don’t get your panties in a wad ladies.” She nodded her head to Jason. “So what’s the plan?”
“The plan was to give my man here a hot shower and a place to stay for the night. Maybe help him stitch up that leg, but it looks like he’s got that all covered.”
“I’ve got that all covered,” she corrected. “Remy wouldn’t have any of those things if it weren’t for me. I’m the one who got us into Barbara’s house to begin with.”
“Who is this Barbara you both keep referring to?”
“One of Remy’s many adoring fans,” Violet answered.
“This shmuck has fans?”
“Who needs celebrities when you’ve got a convicted murderer and kidnapper? You know escaped convicts are all the rage these days.”
“Really? Maybe I should rob a couple of banks and see where that takes me. I gotta say, I wouldn’t mind a pretty young thing like you knocking down my door.”
Violet motioned to Jason while eyeing Remy. “This is the second man today who has referred to me as a pretty young thing. I don’t understand why I can’t just be a woman. A capable woman.” Violet’s eyes flew back to Jason. “And I’m not banging down Remy’s door. Like I said, I believe him and I’m here to help him.”
“And help yourself,” Remy, refusing to be silenced, reminded her once more.
Violet threw a look at him, but she didn’t respond. “You know, Jason, it’s nice that you’re looking to help Remy, but we really can’t stop. The woman who we stole this truck from has almost certainly gotten in contact with the authorities by now. We can’t stop moving.”
“At least come in and let me give you something for that leg, it looks pretty bad. I have some food for the road, too. Five minutes.”
Violet’s eyes widened, and Remy saw it as it happened. Jason had just said her magic word.
Food.
***
“This is so good.” Having grown up with unusually strict parents, Violet had never been one to talk with her mouth full. One bite of Jason’s homemade roast beef sandwich on rye, however, had her throwing all manners out of the window.
Jason grinned down at her. “Glad you like it. My specialty.”
Remy smirked from the small couch nestled in the corner. “Jason used to bring these sandwiches on all of our trips. They were legendary. He brought them for all the flight attendants, too. That’s how he got so much tail back in the day.”
Violet raised an eyebrow, swallowing back the huge bite she’d just taken. “What? Flight attendants can’t afford their own sandwiches?”
“Not the new hires,” Jason said. “The new hires are always broke.”
“I assume the new ones are always young, as well?” Violet offered. “Young and hot?”
“Young and dumb,” Remy corrected.
Jason threw his hands out. “I don’t like that word. Dumb. I prefer… green. Perhaps unseasoned. But dumb?” He looked back and forth between the two. “Seems harsh.”
“Just because you’ve slept with all of them, doesn’t mean you’re obligated to defend them. You know that right?” Remy raised an amused eyebrow.
“That’s unfair,” Jason said. “I’ve slept with most of them. Not all.”
“You’ll get there one day.”
“Please believe it.”
Violet chewed around her smile, and motioned to him once more after swallowing. “So that’s how you know Remy? You guys used to fly together?”
“I was the first officer to his captain from the moment I started flying with Virgin. We bid trips together. We never wanted to fly with anyone but each other.” Jason smiled across the room at Remy, who smiled back at him in return.
“Kay, this…” Violet motioned between them with her half eaten sandwich. “Is why people assume you’re gay. Kay? This. Right here.”
Jason nodded down at Violet. “We knew each other way before Virgin. We flew together in the military.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up. So that’s why Remy was so good with that gun. “Marines?”
“Army.” Jason nodded, casting a proud look. “Arch was an expert shooter, but he wanted to fly.” Jason waved his hands in a dramatic, jazz-hands manner. “And I worshipped the shit in his drawers, so I followed him.”
Violet was now shooting Remy an amused look of her own. “Remy was a marksman?”
“An expert,” Jason corrected. “Not a marksman.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A marksman couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. Arch doesn’t miss his mark. Not ever. That’s the difference.”
“You should have told him that when he shot at me back on the roof. He certainly missed his mark then.”
The look in Jason’s eyes sent Violet reeling, and she was unable to speak another word.
“Like I said,” Jason whispered. “Arch never misses his mark.”
She looked to Remy, but he seemed to be making a concentrated effort to pretend he couldn’t hear a word they were saying.
Remy could feel Violet’s eyes on him, understanding what she’d been feeling after Jason had, irritatingly, given her such a dangerous piece of information. Jason was right. Remy never missed his mark. But a woman who he’d been trying to get rid of for the last few hours didn’t need to know that he’d missed her on purpose. She needed to fear him so much that she’d do anything to get away. Now, looking at him, all he saw was blind adoration. When he sensed
he was casting the same look back, and hurting his own cause even more, he focused on his sandwich. It wobbled in his hands, reminding him of just how weak he’d become in a few short hours.
When various condiments began falling out of the sandwich under Remy’s trembling hold, Violet crossed the room, and tried to take it from him.
“Don’t.” His voice had gone low and stern as his blue eyes flashed with impatience. Her small, helpful hands were as soft as they looked, and frustrated him to insane levels. “I can feed myself, damn it.”
“You don’t look good. Are you feeling okay?”
He felt badly about snapping at her. But Violet was the last person on the planet he wanted feeling sorry for him. His eyes fell helplessly to the neckline of her lose tank top, which was giving him a clear view of her black lace bra, and the ample breasts they barely contained. If he wasn’t so weak and tired and drugged up, Remy was sure his cock would be standing at full attention. At the moment, his was a bit stiff, which was still an impressive response to a woman he’d yet to touch. He wanted her to violate it, and him, in the worst way, and women didn’t sexually violate cripples, weaklings. He refused to allow her to see him that way.
“I’m fine,” he answered. “ Little woozy, but okay. I can feed myself.” A few more pickles and olives fell from the bread as he managed to get the sandwich up to his mouth, but he still managed, taking a hearty bite.
Violet nodded, satisfied, before turning back to the side table in Jason’s living area where he had various picture frames and knick-knacks strategically placed. She ran her fingers over the photos of his friends and family, stopping short when they glided over a tiny porcelain pig. With an amused pout, she plucked the pig up from the table. It was baby pink, and barely bigger than the bed of her nail. Flecks of red paint were scattered across its body. She admired the unique design feature.
“If this isn’t the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” she cooed.
“My grandma gave it to me when I was a kid,” Jason informed.
“Remy,” Violet beamed, turning to Remy while displaying it. “Look, Remy, a tiny porcelain pig.”
Remy took in the pig for a long moment, and waited patiently to feel as excited as Violet. The excitement never came, and he raised an eyebrow. “Cool?”
Unaffected by his dry reaction, she turned to Jason. “Do you have any more tiny porcelain animals? Can I have this tiny porcelain animal?”
“No.” Jason took the pig from Violet’s hand. He immediately took a moment when her eyes widened. “Sorry, it just has a lot of sentimental value to me. Like I said, it was a gift from my grandmother. She died a few years ago so… I feel some kind of weird attachment to it.” At the sight of Violet nodding, he set the pig back down, taking her in openly. “I love your earrings.”
“Thanks.” She reached up to touch her diamond earrings bashfully.
“They’re beautiful.” Jason’s eyes shone. “Someone must like you a lot.”
Before she could stop herself, Violet looked to Remy. He was listening to their conversation intently. Too intently.
Violet blushed.
Sensing the tone was turning, Jason cleared his throat. “Well, hey, you guys should probably get going now that you’ve got something to eat and some fresh bandages. Not the best idea to have you camping out at your best friend’s lake house.”
“He’s right, Remy.” Violet said, turning to him. “We should go.”
“Yeah.” Remy stood.
The two friends embraced once more, and this time Violet saw it for what it was. Two people who had a connection that ran deep, one that had sustained a nationwide scandal which had one of them running for their lives.
Jason pulled back. “You know what? You guys should take my Pop’s old Tundra. He’s been gone for years, I’m sure he won’t miss it. Take it to Mexico. I’ll come visit you at the beach.”
Violet smiled gently at Jason, even as an unexplainable feeling of sick apprehension hit her. It was a kind offer from Jason, but something about it didn’t sit well. She looked to Remy, relieved to see that he was already shaking his head no.
“We don’t just want to lounge around on a beach, Jason, as nice as that sounds. Remy deserves his freedom. That’s what we’re after.”
“Maybe that’s not the smartest way to go.”
“Maybe not. But it’s the only way for us.”
Jason searched her face slowly before speaking once more. “It’s not a good idea to drive around in a stolen car any longer than you have to,” he reasoned.
Remy shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. And I can’t leave a stolen car parked in your driveway.”
Jason shot Remy a look. “How long have we known each other?”
Remy had known Jason since his colorful days as an angry teenage felon, and he had no doubt in his mind that Jason knew just what to do to take a stolen vehicle off the radar. “I can’t let you--”
Jason had heard enough. “Stop. Take the truck. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
***
“We’re not taking his truck.” Violet said, holding Remy’s arm around her shoulders as they made the slow walk back to the stolen truck parked outside Jason’s house. He was currently searching the house for the keys to the Tundra, which he’d misplaced. The moment he’d left the house to go search the garage, Violet had insisted that she and Remy leave.
“He’s my best friend.” Remy groaned.
“We can’t trust him. We can’t trust anyone, Remy. We shouldn’t even have come here. Everyone thinks we’re dead. We need to let them think we’re dead for as long as possible, and take advantage of it.”
Remy was too weak to argue.
“Besides,” Violet began, pulling open the passenger door of the truck and pushing him in. “It’s only a matter of minutes before Jason realizes I disabled his landline and stole his cellphone, so we have to get the hell out of…”
Her words came to a slow stop when, instead of arguing with her, Remy immediately passed out.
A smile touched her lips. Maybe this was why all of her past relationships with men had gone so sour. She hadn’t been drugging them enough!
With a perpetual grin, she raced around to the driver’s side of the truck and climbed in, slamming the door shut and zooming down the beaten path before Jason realized they were gone.
***
Some time later, Remy woke up to the sound of rain pattering so heavily against the truck that it became almost rhythmic.
“It’s going to flood soon.” Violet said, smiling over at him. “But I’m sure I can make it there before the water blocks off the roads. This town floods at the drop of a dime.”
Make it where? Remy wanted to ask. There was officially no room left in his mind for subject matter with which to hassle Violet, however. So he got rid of one. “I can’t believe you stole Jason’s cell phone.”
“And disabled his landline,” she added, catching the look of disbelief on his face as she guided the truck through the muddy back roads that were now familiar to her. “I threw it in a trashcan about a mile outside his house. All he has to do is ping it. He seems nice, but I had to do what I had to do.” Violet said. “We couldn’t give him the opportunity to call anyone, but we also couldn’t give him the chance to ping his cell phone while we still had it, either. We’d be sitting ducks.”
“You don’t know him. He’d never do that to me. He’s a good kid.” Remy’s frown was unnecessarily dramatic.
She made a quick left. She knew exactly where she was going now, and that was a relief. Zooming through massive expanses of land she didn’t recognize with a man who couldn’t even hold his own head up had been causing her more than a little bit of anxiety.
“I like you better when you’re sleeping,” she said.
He grumbled something, running his fingers over his hair, still growing used to the cut. In moments, he relented to her inclinations, and was back to sleep.
***
Hours later, Violet was pulling the truck up the driveway. The rain was still relentless, assaulting every inch of land with pools of water for miles. From what Violet could hear on the radio, which the rain was also taking in its relentless obliteration, was that all roads that lead in and out of there would be blocked for days.
As she looked to Remy, she thought he must have an angel on his shoulder. No man who was a killer could have this kind of luck on his side.
Right? Not wanting to overthink that, she shook him softly, just as she parked the car.
He kicked himself awake, studying his surroundings in dismay. The windshield wipers worked overtime under the pounding rain, allotting him only quick, passing glimpses of the old house before them. From what Remy could gather, the house looked to be on its last leg. As he looked in every direction, he saw that it was the only house in the wet, grassy area, probably for miles. “Where are we?”
“This is a vacation house that belonged to an old client of mine. A friend. She left it to her oldest daughter who lives in London and detests America almost as much as she detests this house. So I housesit. It’s basically mine. It’s just outside Yosemite in North Fork. It’s not even on a map. No one will ever think to look for us here. And even if they did, the roads will be flooded for days. No one’s getting in, and no one’s getting out.”
“What about your crazy, demon baby sisters? If anyone could figure it out, it’s them.”
“First of all, my sisters are not demon babies, second of all, my family has never seen this place. When I first started looking after it, it was old, it stank, and it was falling apart. One look at a photograph of this house and my family didn’t want to hear another word. They wouldn’t think for a moment to look here, and even if they did, they’d have no clue where to find it. They have no idea that I keep it up. It’s my secret getaway. Trust me, Remy. No one will sniff this place out.”
“Do you really think the police aren’t going to come looking for us here? Your detective sister?”
“No. And even if they did, they still think I’m your unwilling hostage. Why would I, your unwilling hostage, ever lead you to the secluded cabin that no one knows the location of? Why would I, your unwilling hostage, lead you to a house deep in the woods where no one would ever find us? Where you’d have a million places to hide my dead body? I wouldn’t. We need this. You need rest. You’re coming apart at the seams.”
Dead or Alive Page 9
