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High Stakes: A Dark Romance

Page 13

by Roxy Sinclaire


  I tossed and turned for a few hours before finally falling asleep. I had a dream that I was woken up by the police and Ben was nowhere to be found. I was dragged into a jail cell and told that I would never get out.

  The dream was so realistic that when I woke up from it at five in the morning, I was too shaken to go back to sleep. I turned the TV on low and just stared at the screen until the sun came up.

  When I got restless lying on the couch, I got up and gave the kitchen a good scrub. I knew that Reese and Abi would be careful about where they left their fingerprints, so hopefully, there wouldn’t be any good evidence for the cops. I picked up a knife that Ben used to cut an apple last night and rinsed off the blade, holding the handle with my t-shirt. When it was clean, I tucked it into the drawer.

  It wasn’t long before Ben came down the stairs dressed for work.

  “You ready?” he asked, a big smile on his face.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  When we got to the car rental, he gave the attendant his fake ID and we received a tan sedan in return. It was an incredibly drab car, but it was best that way. It certainly wouldn’t stand out in traffic.

  Ben answered a phone call as we were about to part ways. As the person on the other end spoke, his eyes got brighter and brighter.

  “Great news, buddy! That was Reese—he said that every penny is accounted for and is in a safe space. It’s done.”

  “It’s not entirely finished,” I said, pointing at the car.

  “Almost there. Good luck today, Josh. I’ll see you at the house after work. After today, our lives will change forever.”

  I headed back toward the house in the rental car, but I couldn’t ignore my growling stomach. I decided to pull over at a fast food joint and grab something for breakfast. I figured that Reese and Abi would have already left, so I just got food for Amanda and me. Reese had mentioned that they wanted to spend a few hours in LA before we left the country for good, so they were heading out early.

  I was about a mile away from the house when I got a phone call from Reese.

  “What’s up? I’m in the rental car on the way home.”

  “Josh,” he said frantically. “Abi and I just left a few minutes ago. We were at the intersection at the end of the street, and she saw the shady police officer.”

  “The one who was hanging around with Ben?”

  “Yeah. I’d get out of there immediately. Ben probably sent him to tail you when you left with Amanda.”

  “Shit,” I yelled. “I have to go.”

  “Stay safe.”

  I sped the rest of the way home and parked on the street next to ours. I carefully ran through our neighbor’s yard and entered through the back door. Pulling the knife out of the drawer by the bottom of my shirt, I sprinted into the bedroom.

  “Amanda,” I gasped. “The dirty cop is watching the house. Ben’s trying to frame me. We have to get out of here immediately.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said, scrambling out of bed. “What do we do?”

  “I think if we hurry, we can leave through the back door and get into the rental car. But we have to leave now.”

  “Why are you holding that knife?” she asked.

  I gulped. “If we don’t get this pinned on Ben, they’ll come after us. If you’re still missing without a trace, they’ll come looking for you.”

  “You need my blood,” she said knowingly.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “Do you think you could do that? We need to make it look pretty bad. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded, but she looked unsure. Amanda rolled up the sleeve of my sweatshirt and exposed the crook of her arm.

  “Do it,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

  I lowered the knife to her skin, gently grazing her pale flesh. It left a faint red line, no deeper than a paper cut.

  “Josh,” she exclaimed.

  “I can’t do it,” I cried.

  “You have to. We don’t have any other choice.”

  I kissed her on her forearm and then squinted my eyes. I imagined Ben’s arm in front of me. I applied pressure to the skin, resulting in a whimper from Amanda. I felt so terrible, but I continued. The cut was deep enough to bleed pretty badly, but not enough to be fatal.

  Tears in her eyes, she smeared the blood on the white comforter and left handprints throughout the room. As she created the crime scene, I grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom, and when it looked convincing, I applied pressure to her wound.

  I held her for a moment, making sure she was steady enough to continue.

  “You did such a good job,” I murmured into her ear. “Let’s get out of here and never look back.”

  She looked a little woozy, so I lifted her up, along with my duffel bag, and ran back down the stairs. I stood her on her feet once we got outside and practically carried her to the car.

  Her face was white as a ghost, but she still had a faint smile across her lips.

  “Hang in there, Amanda,” I said as I sped down the street. “Once I’m sure we aren’t being followed, I’ll take a look at your arm. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I will be once we’re out of this damn city,” she said, looking around.

  “You’re probably not remotely hungry,” I said, “but I grabbed some breakfast for us on the way back.”

  She took a look at the greasy brown paper bag and cracked up. “I’m stuck in that house alone, with the police outside, and you’re going through the drive-through?”

  “I didn’t know,” I said sheepishly.

  She tilted her head back onto the headrest. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

  I took all the side streets and back alleys that I could until I was finally on the freeway out of the city. I had checked my surroundings every couple of seconds, and I had yet to see anything out of the ordinary.

  I chose a shabby gas station on the edge of town and pulled over. First, I checked Amanda’s wound. It didn’t look great, but it was hardly bleeding. I stopped inside the general store and bought bandages and a few bottles of water.

  After wrapping up her arm, I dropped a few quarters into a beat-up payphone and dialed the Las Vegas Police Department.

  “There’s something strange going on at 2342 Maple Drive,” I said in a low voice when the operator answered. “I heard a scream, and there’s been a car parked outside all morning, with someone just watching the house.”

  I hung up before they could get any more information and hopped back in the driver’s seat. I took off down the road and wondered how quickly the police would get to the house.

  “I wonder what Ben’s going to do the moment he finally realizes that we beat him in his own game,” Amanda said.

  I couldn’t help but smile. I would love to see the look on his face when the police take him away for questioning. He could tell all the stories he wanted to, but when it came down to evidence, it pointed solely at him.

  “If only we could be there to witness the epic freak-out that is sure to ensue.” I chuckled.

  “How soon will we get there?” she asked. “I’m just ready to get on a plane.”

  “We’d better eat our breakfast. It’s going to be a while.”

  She groaned and dug into the bag. She held my food in front of my face, and I let her feed me as I drove.

  “At least I’m with you,” she said, turning to give me a bright smile.

  Chapter 22―Joshua

  The drive was long, and we were both a little sleep-deprived, but we didn’t want to pull over at a rest stop in case someone was looking for us. As it turns out, Amanda had a hard time sleeping too, but that was mostly because Ben talked in his sleep a lot and she could hear him. I should have warned her about that.

  During the drive, there were a few times that Amanda started to nod off but caught herself before her chin touched her chest. It was adorable watching her fight sleep.

  “You can take a nap if you want.” I laughed. “We still have a few hours to go.”
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  “No,” she said dreamily, “I’ll stay awake for you. If you have to drive, then I should at least stay awake.”

  “It’s really okay,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” she said, falling asleep before she could say any more.

  I wanted her to get some rest, but the truth was that I was having a harder time staying awake without her conversation. I blasted the cool air toward my body and turned on the radio.

  The quiet classic rock make me feel a little more energized and focused on my destination. We only had about two more hours to go before we were at my friend’s house to get our fake passports.

  As I drove further away from the city, the station started to go fuzzy. I scanned through the stations, looking for something else to listen to.

  “—the governor has admitted his fault, and will not be running for a second term,” the news reporter’s gentle voice said. “Police searched the home of a Las Vegas man after reports of screams and suspicious vehicles were made.”

  I nudged Amanda awake.

  “What?” she mumbled, her eyes still half-closed.

  “Listen,” I said, turning up the radio.

  “Police searched the home of Benjamin Rye, a bartender at the Foxhole Lounge, earlier this morning. Blood was found on the scene with no known source. Police have taken him into custody on suspicion that he is connected with the kidnapping of Amanda Halls.”

  I looked over at Amanda, her eyes wide. She covered her open mouth with one hand.

  “Halls was last seen by her friends in Las Vegas at a bachelorette party at the nearby casinos four days ago. A ransom call was made to her parents just two days ago, demanding a million dollars for her release. Her father, in the family’s press conference, said that they would not negotiate with her captors, and they are working with police for her safe return.”

  “Not surprised,” she muttered.

  “Police have requested that the public be on the lookout for Halls. She is twenty-six years old, five feet three inches tall, one hundred and forty-five pounds. She has light brown hair and hazel eyes.”

  “Thanks for that,” she said sarcastically. “Now everyone knows how much I weigh.”

  I playfully rolled my eyes at her. “Out of everything you just heard, that’s the biggest concern to you?”

  “That, and the fact that people are actively looking for me. It makes me feel a little guilty.”

  “That reminds me,” I said, reaching into the back seat and pulling out a plastic bag. “This is for you.”

  She looked inside and made a disgusted groan. I figured she’d react that way.

  “Is this my disguise?” she asked.

  “Yep. What do you think? I had Abi help me.”

  She pulled out the box of dark auburn hair dye. “This is going to make me look even paler than I already look now.”

  “I think it’ll be nice. What about the clothes?”

  She examined the track suit bottoms and oversize sweater before stuffing them back into the bag. “I would never wear anything like this.”

  “That’s the whole point. If the whole country is looking for the child of a billionaire, they won’t look twice at someone dressed like that. Abi also has your suitcase in her car. She says that you could probably make your face look a little different with makeup too.”

  “I can certainly try. I can’t wait until I can wear my own clothes again. “

  “Or no clothes,” I said under my breath. I think she heard me because she turned toward the window, grinning.

  “Do you have a disguise?” she asked.

  “I don’t think anyone is looking for me. But if they are, I think I’ll just continue to grow out my facial hair.”

  “That’s hardly a disguise. That’s just called being too lazy to shave.”

  She had a point. The last few days were so crazy that my stubble was well on its way to becoming a proper beard. When we settled down in Italy, I’d go back to my usual grooming habits.

  “I’ll put on a hat,” I said. “I’m not going to dye my hair.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to,” she replied. “Besides, I think there’s a greater chance that you’ll be mistaken for a model or actor instead of being recognized for being a kidnapper.”

  I chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

  We kept the news station on, just in case there were any updates. They repeated the same story about us again the next hour, but without any new additions.

  “I wish I had my phone,” Amanda said. “I want to see if the police have said anything else. Is that in my suitcase too?”

  “No.” I grimaced. “Abi destroyed it. We were worried that the police were going to track you down with it.”

  “Probably for the best.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll just get a new one when we get to Rome. Did you destroy anything else of mine?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Just don’t be surprised if anything’s missing. That suitcase has been lying open in my room the past few days.”

  “So if I see Abi wearing one of my tops today, I should just play it cool?” she joked.

  “More like, if you see Ben’s mug shot on the news, and he’s wearing your diamond earrings, you’ll understand why.”

  This sent us both into a fit of giggles. I loved making her laugh.

  “I forgot to mention,” I said, “but because your name is all over the news, your passport is going to have a different name on it. I hope that’s okay with you.”

  “I’m changing my appearance, and now I’m changing my name too. Is there anything else I need to change?”

  “No,” I said, intertwining my fingers with hers. “Everything else is perfect.”

  We arrived at my friend Ryan’s house in Inglewood in the early afternoon. I had only met the guy in person once, so I was a little unsure of myself when we pulled up to his townhouse in a shady part of town.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Amanda asked.

  “This is the address he gave me.”

  “How do you know Ryan anyway?” she asked, chewing on her fingernail.

  “I met him in Vegas a few years back. We got to talking and kind of connected. Probably because our lines of work were equally illegal and immoral. He’s shown me some of his work, and the guy is an artist. He can take a lost piece of identification and completely remake it so it has new information on it. He also has connections that can hook him up with legitimate fake IDs like passports. That’s why they’re going to cost us so much, because they’re real.”

  “So the consequences of being caught with one would be pretty extreme?” she asked.

  “Oh, absolutely. That’s why we’re not going to get caught,” I said with a wink. “Shall we go inside?”

  We walked slowly up the driveway, neither of us wanting to walk ahead of the other. I knocked twice on the front door, and flecks of paint crumbled off the wood.

  A tall, hefty man answered the door. He looked menacing, like he was hired by Ryan to act as a bodyguard.

  “Is Ryan home?” I asked, my voice sounding squeakier than I would have liked.

  “Who’s asking?” he growled.

  “My name is Josh. He’s expecting me.”

  The man stared at me for a moment, like he was deciding what to do with us. Then, he waved us inside.

  “He’s in the office,” he said. “Second door on the left.”

  “Thank you,” I said, nodding my head.

  Amanda gripped the back of my arm as we walked through the poorly lit hallway. Ryan’s office had a large desk, two long workbenches, and various pieces of equipment that I had never seen before. It looked like we were inside a printing press.

  “Joshua,” Ryan said, shaking my hand. “Long time, no see. Is this your friend you were telling me about?” He extended his hand for Amanda to shake.

  “Yes. Did everything go all right?”

  “The passports are absolutely beautiful,” Ryan said, his long hair flowing as he moved around th
e room. “These are so perfect that I want to frame them and put them on display.”

  “We really appreciate it. How much do I owe you?”

  “Since we’re friends, I’ll give you a discount. Two thousand dollars for the four passports.”

  “Thank you for getting these done on such short notice,” I said, handing him a stack of folded bills.

  “Not a problem,” he said cheerfully. “Did he tell you about the time he saved my ass?” he asked Amanda.

  “No, what happened?” she asked.

  “I was selling fake IDs to underage kids wanting to go inside the casino. Mostly college students on spring break. The cops caught on to what I was doing, and your friend managed to sweet talk the police out of arresting me. He’s a charming gentleman, that one is.”

  “We should get back on the road,” I said, shaking Ryan’s hand again. “It was nice seeing you.”

  “Thank you for the passports,” Amanda said. “You have been a complete lifesaver.”

  “It’s an honor, Ms. Johnson,” Ryan said, giving a small bow. “I wish the two of you good luck on your next adventure. I can sense a special bond between you two.”

  “My name’s not—” she objected before I handed Amanda her new passport and she flipped to the information page.

  “Luna Johnson,” she whispered.

  I stifled a laugh. Leave it to a hippy like Ryan to give a conservative girl such a flowery name. I knew she would hate it.

  “I love it,” she said, absolutely beaming.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. Just when I thought I knew how she would respond to something, she surprised me with something new. She certainly kept me guessing.

  We walked out of the old house, down the cracked sidewalk, and got back into our car. We were one step closer to our new life. I was counting down the hours until our plane left and we would never have to worry again.

  Chapter 23―Amanda

  “What now?” I asked, flipping through the blank pages of my new passport. It felt so strange to see my face on the page, but with completely foreign information. I read the first page over and over again, trying to memorize my new life details if anything was called into question.

 

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