Rose Gardner 01 - Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes

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Rose Gardner 01 - Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes Page 24

by Swank, Denise Grover


  “Let go of me!” I tried to jerk away.

  “Rose! I’m trying to save you! Shelf your pride for a minute and listen to me!”

  I was willing to listen if he was going to help save my life.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, you were smart to dress like this. Crocker likes good-looking women. He’ll be more lenient with you because of your looks, which is probably why you’re still alive. But if he finds out you haven’t brought what he wants, he’ll kill you.”

  I tried to remain calm in spite of facing my certain death. “Will he know tonight?” I whispered.

  He looked out the front window. “Yes.”

  I let that soak in. “Will I at least be able to save Violet?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I gasped. I had to save Violet.

  Joe turned back to me. “So will you change your mind?”

  “Not if there’s even a slight chance I can save her.” I reached for the handle on the door.

  “Wait!” Joe sounded desperate.

  “What?”

  “Give me your flash drive.” I didn’t move so he grabbed my purse and started digging through it.

  “What are you doing? Give that back!” I tried to pull it away from him.

  He looked panicked. “Where is it?”

  I dug it out of my pocket, unsure I should give it to him. He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to me .

  “Is this the real one? You had it all the time?” I asked.

  “No! It’s fake. It’ll save you tonight, but not past tomorrow. They’ll figure out it’s a forgery by noon.”

  “Why are you doin’ this?” I wasn’t sure I could trust him, but whatever he had on his flash drive had to be better than my empty one.

  “You want the truth or the version you prefer?”

  “Neither.” I turned to the door.

  “Wait!”

  This was getting old. “I’m gonna be late.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Try not to let him get you into bed.”

  “Excuse me?” I hadn’t expected that.

  “He’s gonna try, which is why you’re still alive, but avoid it if you can. You’re gonna have to use your head. Rumor has it he’s rough in the bedroom. Just be careful.”

  While I was grateful for that bit of information, it scared the bejiggers out of me. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “Rose.” His voice broke. “Be careful.”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew I should be grateful, but I was still mad. I got out of the car and walked over to mine. Joe stayed in the parking lot while I pulled away.

  The Trading Post was on Highway 82 just outside of town. Henryetta being so small, it didn't take long to pull into the pea gravel parking lot, already half-full of pickup trucks and motorcycles. My stomach tied itself up in knots as I got out of the car. It was one minute after ten. One minute late.

  I took a deep breath as I went in and let my eyes adjust to the dim, smoky haze. Daniel sat across the room, at a table with two other men.

  Showtime.

  I walked over to his table, but I tried to saunter, like I’d seen models do on television. I had no idea if I pulled it off or looked like a fool. In either case, Daniel Crocker looked like he appreciated what he saw.

  I realized I might get out of the dying part, but I highly doubted I’d get out of the sleeping-with-him part. I hoped I could go through with it.

  Daniel leaned his arms on the backs of the chairs next to him and looked me up and down. “Well, there you are, baby. I was just talkin’ about ya.”

  “Oh?” I sat down in the empty chair across from him and tried to look interested. I’d prefer to dump the flash drive in his lap and turn around and leave, but the person with the real flash drive had stood him up for awhile. Common sense told me I was gonna have to work my way out of being punished.

  “Let me get you a drink. I believe you drank wine when I saw you with Sloan.”

  I ignored the Sloan comment. “Wine would be great, thanks.”

  Daniel motioned to a guy next to him with a quick wave of his hand. “White.” The guy walked over to the bar. “I was worried you weren’t goin’ to show, baby. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

  “I disappointed you long enough.” I smiled and lifted my eyebrows. I wasn’t sure how it actually looked, sexy or stupid, but he still looked interested. I felt like I was walking a tightrope without a net.

  The guy returned with a glass of white wine. It creeped me out that Daniel remembered what I had that night. I took a sip and smiled my approval.

  My hand rested on the table. Daniel stretched his hand over and covered mine. It felt clammy and oppressive. I resisted the urge to snatch mine away.

  “They say business before pleasure, Rose. Seems particularly apropos tonight.”

  I stood up, carefully pulling my hand out from under his so I didn’t offend him. I reached into my pocket, arching my back and thrusting out my chest. I needed to worry about the surviving tonight and not the fact I was digging myself into a hole of sleeping with him. His eyes told me he appreciated the view. I put the flash drive on the table slowly slid it toward him.

  He picked it up and handed it to the guy who brought my wine. He waved to the other man, who got up and left. Daniel patted the chair next to him. “I’m feeling mighty lonely all by myself. Come sit with me.”

  I moved to the chair, trying not to stiffen when he draped his arm around my shoulders and sniffed my neck.

  Oh, Lord, I don’t think I can go through with this.

  “You smell so good, baby. I can’t wait to get a taste.” He leaned over and kissed me, a wet sloppy mess that tasted like beer and onions. Daniel Crocker had a love of onions. I tried to show him a little enthusiasm, but he noticed the lack of effort on my part.

  “Nervous, baby? You got something to be nervous about? I know you’re good in bed. McAllister says so anyway.”

  I couldn’t stop my show of surprise.

  His hand moved to my leg, skimming the inside of my thigh. “Don’t be hurt. I had McAllister keep an eye on you, once I knew it was you. I didn’t expect him to watch you so closely though.” His hand moved farther up my thigh. “Although he did provide exceptional information.” He pinched the inside of my leg. Even through my jeans it was hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “But you’re mine now.”

  I grabbed my glass of wine and took a good-sized gulp.

  The man came and whispered in Crocker’s ear. Daniel grinned. “Bring over some tequila shots to celebrate.” He turned to me, beaming. “You have no idea how happy I am that you didn’t disappoint me.”

  The man brought six shot glasses, a bowl full of lime wedges, and a shaker full of salt.

  “You ever done tequila shots, Rose?” Daniel asked, lining up the shot glasses, three in front of him and three in front of me. They were much smaller than a glass of wine or beer, but I knew they were much more potent.

  “No,” I said, scared. If a couple of bottles of beer made me jump Joe, what would a glass of wine and three tequila shots have me do with Daniel? Then again, if I was gonna have to do it, I might as well have a little help.

  His eyes lit up, but with a scary excitement, not the excitement I saw on Joe’s face. “Let me teach you,” he said in a leer. “But first finish your wine.”

  I gulped my wine down. I was going be incapable of driving. How would I get home?

  He laughed when I set down the empty glass. “You are gonna be fun. Okay, time for your lesson. I’m gonna demonstrate and then you try it, Okay?”

  I nodded, my head getting fuzzy.

  He picked up my left hand, and licked the back of it, I couldn’t help the automatic response to jerk away. But he must have been prepared, because he held on tight and laughed. He picked up the salt shaker and poured salt onto my hand. Licking it off, he rolled his eyes an evil smile widening on his face. Still holding onto my hand, he picked up a shot glass with his other hand and
downed it in a second. He slammed it on the table and picked up a lime wedge and sucked on it.

  He narrowed his eyes, in what I suspected he meant to be a come-hither look. I just wanted to run. “I knew you’d taste good.” He gave the back of my hand another lick. “You’re turn.”

  I would have been nervous trying shots anyway, but doing this with Daniel Crocker released a slow trickle of terror that pooled and rose, threatening to swallow all reason. Daniel still had my hand and stuck his in front of my face. I closed my eyes and licked it.

  “Now salt,” he insisted with a growl.

  I shook the salt shaker on the back of his hand and licked. He actually moaned.

  “Now the shot.” He held the glass up to my mouth and pushed my head back, dumping it in. Unprepared, I gagged. Daniel held a lime wedge up to my mouth. “Suck on it, baby.”

  It took everything in me not to vomit there at the table. By the time I got through the remaining two shots, the room was definitely spinning. Between not being used to the alcohol, my vertigo, and fear, I knew I would lose my stomach contents soon. I grabbed my purse and stood, nearly falling over with the sudden movement.

  “I’ve gotta throw up.” Apparently tequila worked like beer on my internal censor.

  Daniel burst out laughing. “The restroom’s back that way.” He waved toward the hall. “Don’t keep me waiting, baby.” I wobbled in that direction as I heard Daniel ordering more shots. I was going to die of alcohol poisoning.

  I made it down the hall, to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. I didn’t know how I was going to go out there and drink more. I leaned over the sink and rinsed my mouth out with water. When I raised up, I saw Joe’s reflection in the mirror behind me. Before I could scream, Joe covered my mouth with his hand.

  “Shhh.”

  I tried to ask him a question but his hand muffled my words. He removed his hand. “What are you doin’ here?” I whispered loudly.

  “Shh,” he said, “You’re a funny drunk at home, but right now I need you to focus.”

  “You said to use my head, and I’m tryin’, but it ain’t so easy. He wants me to go back out there and do it again.”

  “Do what again?”

  “Tequila shots.”

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “A glass of wine and three shots.”

  “Shit, why are you drinkin’ so much?”

  “He’s makin’ me do it.” I felt myself weaving and bobbing around.

  Joe grabbed his head in his hands, like his head hurt and he was trying to squeeze the pain out. “Okay,” he finally said.

  I concentrated on watching him, so his words startled me and I jumped. ”Okay, go back?” I started for the door, feeling even fuzzier than when I came in. I turned to Joe and waved a finger at him. “Oh yeah, he ain’t followin’ the rules.”

  “What rules?”

  “The rules of drinkin’.”

  “Yeah, Crocker isn’t one to follow rules. I’m tryin’ to figure out how to get you out of here.”

  “Can I go home now?”

  “No, not yet. I hate to do this to you, but I need you to go back out there. You’ve been here too long. He’s gonna come lookin’ for you and we need more of a head start. Go back out, do one or two more shots and say you have to throw up again, and I’ll be waitin’ for you here. But leave your purse at the table and don't slip up and use my name. It's a secret, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, do what I say and I’m gonna get you out of this.” Then he shoved me out the door. I grabbed hold of the wall to hold myself up.

  Daniel was excited to see me appear and didn’t waste any time getting to the shots.

  We did the first round, with some sloppy kissing after. I wondered if anyone had told him that his technique needed some work. I considered telling him he should take some lessons from Joe, but remembered I wasn’t supposed to say Joe’s name.

  As I started licking the salt off his hand, I felt a vision coming. I saw Joe, in what looked like a mechanic’s garage, carrying a package. I heard Daniel’s voice say, “Where is she, McAllister?”

  When it finished and I was about to say “You’re looking for me,” Daniel stuck a wedge of lime in my mouth. I had no problem excusing myself from the table this time, and I honestly forgot my purse, barely making it to the toilet. Joe waited for me, hiding in a stall.

  “How many did you have this time?” He asked as I rinsed out my mouth again.

  “Two.”

  “We’re gonna have to hurry, we don’t have much time.” He walked over to a window and opened it.

  “I get to climb out a window again?” I asked in a whisper. “That’d the second time in…” I tried to think how long ago it was. “Only a few days.”

  Joe looked outside the window and then climbed out, one leg at a time. He made it look so easy.

  “When did you climb out a window?” He pulled me closer and lifted one of my legs through.

  “The night after you hid the gun in my shed.”

  He pushed my head down and out and pulled the other leg through. We stood outside next to a motorcycle and I remembered. Joe hid the gun in my shed. He strapped a helmet to my head.

  “How can I trust you?” I asked, searching his face for something to convince me.

  He put on the other helmet. “Rose, you either trust me or Crocker, which one do you pick?”

  It didn’t seem like a none-of-the-above moment. “You.”

  “Good girl.” Joe climbed onto the bike and pulled my arm. “Now climb on behind me.”

  I did with a bit of difficulty.

  “Shit, I hadn’t planned on you bein’ so drunk. Hold on really tight, okay? Don’t let go.”

  Before I had a chance to answer, Joe started the motorcycle and tore out of the parking lot.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Joe drove like he was trying to drive into yesterday. I felt my grip slip a couple of times and Joe would jerk on my arm and remind me to hang on. But I was drowsy, the vibration of the bike lulling me to sleep.

  I recognized our neighborhood, but Joe didn’t drive home. Instead, he pulled up to an old detached garage on the street behind our houses and shut off the bike.

  “Where are we?” I asked, falling off the bike onto the grass. The garage hadn’t been used to store a car in years and the gravel driveway had long since been invaded by the lawn.

  Joe knelt down and took the helmet off my head. “I rent this, to store things.”

  “Like a motorcycle? I didn’t know you had a motorcycle.” I lay on my back in the grass. The stars in the sky were spinning around me. I felt like the center of the universe.

  “That’s me, a man of mystery.” He lifted the garage door, an old-fashioned kind, a panel that tilted out and back.

  “Tell me about it…” I mumbled, closing my eyes. The spinning stars were making me dizzy.

  I heard him roll the motorcycle into the garage, then shut the door and padlock it. He pulled me up. “Come on.”

  I had trouble standing and wearing heels in the grass wasn't going to work, especially in my state. Joe realized this before I did and knelt down to slip them off. He held my shoes in one hand and pulled my wrist with the other. “We have to hurry. We don’t have much time.” He pulled me to the trees that lined the rear property line and ran between them. Well, I tried to run. It wasn’t working out so well.

  Joe hunched down. “Climb on my back.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re gonna come looking for you. We have to hurry and get home.”

  I didn't really want to hurry so they could come find me, but Joe seemed to have a plan so I climbed on. He ran through to the trees behind his house, then slid me off. As he tried to help me over the fence. I saw my shed out of the corner of my eye.

  “Hey! Why’d you put a gun in my shed?” My words sounded more indignant than I intended.

  “I’ll explain it all to you in a little bit.
We just have to get through the next hour first.” He led me to the back of his house, pried open a screen, then lifted the window. “Sorry, I don’t have time to be gentle.”

  He shoved my head and body in through the window. When my top part was in, he pushed the back part of me through and I landed in a heap on the floor. I looked around to orient myself, realizing I was in Joe’s bedroom.

  He climbed in, replaced the screen, and shut the window. “Okay, time to hide you.”

  “I’m not so good at hide-and-go-seek.”

  “Lucky for you, I already picked out a place for you to hide. Your job is to stay quiet.”

  Joe took me into the hallway and pulled down the attic steps. When he started to push me up, I froze. Joe was making me hide in the attic. “Are there any windows up there?”

  “No.”

  I shook my head so violently I almost fell off the ladder. “No, I can’t.”

  He climbed higher, so that we stood on the ladder side by side. “Rose, I know you’re scared and this is gonna be hard. But you can do this. You have to do this. Your life depends on it. Now go.” He pushed me up and I scrambled up the steps, trying to stave off the fear.

  The attic was unfinished, and the floor joists were filled with insulation. Joe pulled a cord and a single light bulb lit up the space. There were several boxes in the corner to the left, toward the front of the house.

  “You’re gonna hide behind those boxes. It’s gonna be tricky since there’s no floor and you’re drunk as a skunk. But try to keep alert and you can do it,” he said, guiding me toward the boxes. I told myself hiding in a dark attic was better than being dead. Joe got me situated the way he wanted me, my butt on one beam, my feet on another and hidden behind the boxes. He tossed my shoes in the insulation then knelt down, his face in front of mine.

  “No matter what happens, you do not come out. Got it?”

  “What’s gonna happen?” I asked in a whisper, my voice quivering.

  “They’re gonna do whatever they can to find you. But you stay here. Do not come out, no matter what they say. Okay?”

  I nodded, tears blurring my vision.

  Joe smiled, but his eyes looked sad. He kissed my forehead. “It’s gonna be okay. Just sit tight and be quiet.” He scrambled to the attic door and clicked off the light, throwing me into darkness. The door shut and I found myself trapped, alone in the dark. I told myself I wasn’t trapped. I was hiding. There was a difference, only I couldn’t find it at the moment.

 

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