Brightest As We Fall
Page 31
“No airports,” Jason said. “Way too risky.”
“I’m not suggesting that.” DeeAnn pressed a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to say he didn’t think backpacking through the desert was a good idea. “They’ll never, ever expect us to take a bus out.”
“Bus,” he repeated. He didn’t like the idea of being dependent on someone else and unable to quickly get away. “I don’t know.”
“You’re worried about not having your own wheels, right? We buy tickets to somewhere remote. A bus that makes multiple stops. Then we just take off once we’re far enough outside of the city.”
“Then what? People will be looking for me. I don’t have connections out here.”
“Just this once,” DeeAnn said slowly, “I guess you could steal a car. Geez. I’m a great wife, aren’t I?”
Jason felt sad hearing her suggest that he steal a car. Not because he’d developed any kind of conscience about it—he hadn’t.
“You’re the best wife.”
“But this is it. No more stealing.”
Jason grinned, relieved. He’d never wanted to change her. She was pure, if a little black around the edges. “Once this is over,” he said, “I’ll never even jaywalk.”
She gathered up her wet hair and reached for the towel to catch the water dripping off the ends. “You can jaywalk,” she said. “I mean, it’s named after you.”
The next thing to figure out was how to get on the goddamn bus. DeeAnn wanted to run out and buy the tickets.
No way in hell was Jason going to let her expose herself more often than necessary.
In the end, they decided they would leave early in the morning with tickets to either San Bernardino or Los Angeles, depending on the schedule.
As for getting to the bus station, they would take a cab and hope for the best.
Jason felt better now that they had a plan, and he picked up the food menu, intending to order something this time.
DeeAnn was in the bathroom, drying her hair. The dryer shut off. She emerged wearing the halter top and short denim shorts that he liked so much. Because of that, he didn’t notice her troubled expression right away.
The expression that meant she’d been thinking about some things, and they needed to talk.
“What’d I do now?” Jason asked with a smile. He’d gotten dressed, too, though he wouldn’t be leaving the room.
“Nothing. I keep thinking about all the ways things could go wrong.”
“There’s no use worrying about something that’ll never happen. We’ll slip out, and that’ll be that.”
He would have gotten up and pulled her into his arms, but he could tell she needed to get this off her chest, so he let her be.
She nibbled on her lower lip as she began braiding her hair, following her progress in the mirror across from the bed. It was an excuse, Jason suspected, to avoid looking at him.
“I don’t want people to get hurt. Not you and not anyone else.”
“DeeAnn.” He stood. What he was about to say would upset her, but he wouldn’t lie. “You knew from the first time we met that I don’t play by the rules. If you think that’s going to change now, the moment when I most need to keep you safe, you’re wrong. There’s no one I won’t tear apart with my bare hands if they’re a threat to you.”
“Yeah… I get that if it’s the Jack Rebels or a crooked FBI agent.” She raked her fingers through the braid, shook the strands loose, and started anew. “But the cops are looking for you out here. I… I would rather go to prison than… you know.”
He knew. “All right. I promise not to kill any cops.”
“Be serious!”
“I am. Those charges you saw on TV, they’re bogus. Did you notice the dates?”
DeeAnn shook her head. Jason realized that she’d been afraid to ask for details.
“I couldn’t have been shooting a man in Ohio if I was in Colorado.”
DeeAnn blinked at him, understanding dawning. “You’re being framed?”
“Don’t ask me why, or who by. Two murders and an attempted murder. I don’t think it’s an administrative error. Someone wants me arrested.”
“I think they want you dead,” DeeAnn said. “Who did you piss off that has that kind of influence?”
“The Jack Rebels, apparently. But I’ve got alibis for my time since Rhodell Heights. Those charges won’t stick. But if I kill a cop? If I do that, I’m going away. Sweetness, don’t worry.”
“I guess that’s logical,” DeeAnn said. “But you could also acknowledge that it’s wrong to kill someone who’s just doing their job.”
“You must not have interacted with the police of Rhodell Heights very often,” Jason said. “If it makes you happy, I’ll assume all cops are wonderful humans who have toddlers at home.”
“Thank you.” She exhaled, but her expression remained grim. “The stores should be opening soon. Let’s make a shopping list.”
Chapter 49
“Are you ready?” Jason asks early the next morning.
I zip up my backpack and try to swallow the lump in my throat. “I guess that depends on your definition of ready. Kiss for good luck?”
“Always.” He pulls me close and drops a stubble-scratchy kiss on my forehead. “It’s going to be fine. Your plan is brilliant. And no, I’m not being sarcastic.”
“No pressure there,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“This is our best option,” Jason says. He consults his phone. “It’s time. Go on down to the lobby. I’ll see you in a minute.”
“I really don’t like this part,” I say.
His lips firm into a hard line.
He probably doesn’t like it, either, but neither of us could come up with a better alternative.
Shouldering my backpack, I walk to the door, where my suitcase is waiting. I can’t help but turn and look at Jason.
What if this is the last time we see each other? What if—
“No negative thoughts,” he says in his commanding bedroom voice, but then he smiles.
“After this, smooth sailing,” I say.
The elevator has glass panels, and I catch a glimpse of myself. I’m wearing a baseball hat with a faux ponytail that’s much, much darker than my current color.
If anyone looks closely, they’ll realize it’s fake.
I couldn’t find a disguise for Jason, unfortunately. Because of his height, giving him a weird haircut or a bushy beard would only draw more attention.
Jason told me not to look around too much, because that’ll catch the attention of anyone who’s watching.
I suspect that if anyone is actually watching, we’re screwed, and Jason gave me all these instructions and tasks to keep my mind occupied. He’s clever that way.
He could have been a psychologist. I guess he could have been a lot of things.
He still can. It’s going to be fine. We’ll get away from here and build a quiet life together.
Outside, I get in line for the taxis. The air is hot and smells like gasoline. There’s no breeze.
When I’m three slots from the front, I quickly call up to the room.
“Now,” I say.
This is the part that kept me up all night. I’m not supposed to focus on anything but waiting for a cab, but I can’t help but turn and stare into the lobby, searching for the first hint of Jason.
It’s like… If I can see him, I can keep him safe.
Which is ridiculous because I can’t keep anyone safe, Jason least of all.
And then I think—and I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me earlier—that Jason gave me the money to hold on to because he knows he might be apprehended.
“Did you want a cab?” asks the uniformed man managing the waiting guests.
I’m supposed to take the cab to the front of the hotel and pick Jason up there, but I still haven’t seen him.
The panic and regret are instant.
I should never have allowed us to be separated. What if he’s planning
to duck away, to abandon me in some misguided gesture of chivalry? He promised not to leave me, but he also swore he’d do anything to keep me safe.
“Miss?” the uniformed man asks.
Then I see Jason’s head. He’s moving toward the front of the hotel.
The relief only erases part of my panic.
“Yes, I need a cab,” I say.
The trip from the hotel to the bus station does a number on my nerves.
Jason must sense this because he takes my hand in his and holds on tight. Each time the taxi slows for a yellow light, I want to scream at the driver to plow through as quickly as possible.
When we finally arrive, our bus is already pulling out.
“Should we try to flag it down?” I ask, but I know the answer. Doing that would draw too much attention to ourselves.
A man trudges by with a stack of flyers. “Visit Death Valley,” he intones in a bored voice. “Hoover Dam. Scenic day trips. Last-minute tickets for cheap.”
Jason and I look at each other. He nods.
“What’s your least-popular bus trip?” I ask the man. “I don’t want to be like the other tourists.”
He barely looks at me. “Valley of Fire. It’s getting canceled next week. You can take one of our buses to Hoover Dam from there if you want.”
“When does it leave?”
“Ten minutes.”
Perfect. The important thing is to get away from the city. Then we can find another bus, or a cab, or use a ride-sharing app.
But I invest half a minute in asking the man if the tour is pretty, if it’s worth it, what time we’ll be back, if there are restaurants. Basically asking the questions a tourist would ask but also getting a sense for what awaits us.
The man assures me in a monotone voice that it’s lovely. I can’t tell if he’s high or just really tired.
We’re able to board the bus right after picking up our tickets. Jason and I take seats toward the back—far enough away from the other passengers that we can talk, but not right next to the chemical reek of the bathroom.
“We can’t do that again,” I say, keeping my voice low. “What happened at the hotel, I mean.”
“You’re angry with me,” Jason says. “What did I do?”
“I…” Actually, I hadn’t realized I was angry until he pointed it out. “I want you to make me a promise.”
Jason is too smart to agree without knowing what I want, but he pulls me close, cradling me against his chest. The slow, steady thumping of his heart begins to calm me.
“What do you want?” he asks after a few minutes have passed.
“I want you to promise we’ll never be apart again.”
“Never?” he asks. “What if I have food poisoning? Will you come into the bathroom with me?”
“Gross.” I laugh, then snuggle closer. “I’m serious, Jason. Waiting for that cab was even more nerve-racking than…” There are so many ways I can fill in that blank, from the shootout, to fumbling around in the dark while a motorcycle gang looked for us, to seeing the FBI agent in the club. In the end, I don’t bother. “I was petrified with fear. Promise me, Jason.”
He shakes his head. “I can only promise to keep you safe.”
“This will keep me safe,” I insist. “Us, together. If something happens to you, I won’t be able to go on living.”
“Well, what happens if I get arrested?”
“Then I’ll get arrested, too.”
“No good. I would have to break out of prison, then I’d have to break into prison to be with you. I’m thinking the wardens would notice your hairy new cellmate.”
The bus is backing up, moving away from the street. Its motor is distractingly loud, but it never did get even a third full, so Jason and I are able to keep talking.
“Let’s make a deal,” I say. “If you get carted off to prison, I’ll wait for you.”
“We’ll see. A hot mama like you? You’d be serving me with divorce papers within a week.”
“It’s not funny,” I say. “I’ll wait for you, and I won’t do anything ill advised. But if the Jack Rebels come, I want us to stay together. One way or another.”
Jason is quiet for a long time.
“Are you asleep?” I ask.
“No. I’m thinking.”
“What is there to think about? If you get shot, I don’t want to live, Jason. I couldn’t survive that. And anyway, they would come after me for the money.”
He sighs, and then I’m sure I have him.
“You know they would,” I insist. “If it’s going to end that way, I want us to be together.”
“All right,” he says, stroking my hair. His hands are large and warm, and once again I can’t believe he’s mine. “Should we take advantage of being alone?”
I struggle to catch his meaning because I’m not expecting him to change gears so quickly.
“Are you serious? What do you want? A hand job?” I practically mouth the last two words, and Jason cracks up.
“I’ll take anything you’re offering.”
Pushing away from him, I meet his eyes. “Are you saying you want a blow job?” This I definitely mouth, no sound at all.
“When you say blow job, your lips form the perfect shape for one.”
My cheeks begin heating.
Jason makes a big show of looking around. “Still no mirrors or cameras back here,” he says.
“And…”
“I think it would be more fun to fuck you.”
My eyes go wide. “No way.”
He nods. “Way. You haven’t lived until you’ve fucked on a bus. It’s the mile-high club for broke people.”
“What about the mess?”
“I guess if I keep you on your back forever, there won’t be a mess. All my come inside you, where it belongs.”
My pussy clenches.
It’s weird that we’re married and we never really discussed what we want in terms of kids or whatever. Just that pregnancy scare, which didn’t last long. I guess we don’t want to make plans for a future that might never come to pass. Like it would bring bad luck.
And then I think, why the hell not fuck here? If something happens to us, or if Jason gets arrested, I know I’ll regret not having done it.
My fingers reach for his belt buckle.
“Whoa. Really? I was halfway joking. What’s gotten into you?”
“Newlyweds,” I say, because I don’t want him knowing about my dark thoughts. But really, he probably already suspects.
Slowly, I unbutton his jeans. They’re tight enough that I need some help wrangling his cock free—if he didn’t get hard so quickly, it would be a lot easier.
The sight of his erection heats my blood.
“You’re the lookout,” I say, excitement shivering through me.
After quickly glancing around, I duck to take him into my mouth. Jason is right. I need to stop thinking so much.
And so I clear my mind as I flick my tongue around the swollen tip of his cock.
His muscular legs tense; one of my hands is braced on his thigh, so I feel the quiet pulse of power that runs through him.
He strokes my neck, then slides his hand under my shirt, tugging it up as he homes in on my breast. I moan. He pulls at my bra, repositioning the cups until the constricting band cuts across the widest part of my chest.
Jason’s makeshift bondage. I love how it feels.
I slip the head of his cock into my mouth and get it wet. His taut, smooth skin is a sensual massage on my lips. How could anyone not love sucking a cock as perfect as Jason’s?
He taps my shoulder in warning. “Sit up.”
I do, but I keep slouched so that whoever is coming doesn’t see my head pop up suspiciously.
The approaching elderly man grips hard on the backs of the seats as he walks. His gnarled hands are all knuckles and sun spots.
“That guy had to be ninety. We could have kept going, and he wouldn’t have noticed,” I say when the bathroom door closes.
Who would have thought I needed even more excitement in my life?
The old man seems to take forever in the bathroom, and by the time he finally returns to his seat, Jason’s cock is only at half-mast.
I pull up the bottom of his shirt and watch as he lengthens and hardens before my eyes.
“Am I a perv because I like to look at your dick?”
“Let me think about that while you’re sucking me,” he says. His voice is tense. Poor guy, having to suffer, having to wait.
But he’s not waiting now.
He urges me onto his erection, and I greedily accept every hot, throbbing inch. For a few minutes, I concentrate on giving him the best blow job ever, and I can tell from the way his cock swells that he’s enjoying it.
I try to stroke his shaft with the tip of my tongue while I take him deep into my throat. The pulsing veins that wrap around his thick length deserve more attention than I can give right now.
To do this properly, I’d need to get onto my knees, but I can’t; there’s not enough room.
Jason taps my shoulder again, and I reluctantly slump back into place.
This time, it’s a woman around my age. She definitely looks at me and Jason as she goes by.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, I say, “Do you think she was staring at us?”
“Yes,” Jason says, “but it probably doesn’t mean anything.”
I glance back. “I dunno. What if she’s in there sending a message to someone about us? There’s probably a reward.”
“Shh,” Jason says. He slides his hand under my shirt to cup the mound of my breast. Since my bra is still pushed up, it’s easy for him to stroke his large thumb over my nipple.
He does it just the way I like, his fingers squeezing the swell of my breast while his thumb teases lightly, and soon I’m squirming in my seat.
My panties are completely drenched.