Dirty Power

by Ashley Bartlett

  “Hey.” Reese wasn’t talking to me so I didn’t respond. Instead, I pulled out jeans and a T-shirt for Reese. Then I found a sweatshirt for each of us. My sweatshirt had SFU written across the chest. It was some university in British Columbia. Breno had ordered it online and washed it about a thousand times. Authenticity, he had said.

  “No, her sister showed up,” Reese said.

  “Fucking stupid bitch,” I said again. But Ryan couldn’t hear me and Reese wasn’t listening.

  “Yeah. We’ll be there in a few.” Reese hung up the phone. Keep it short. Just in case.

  “Disguises?” I asked.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we need to color your hair.”

  “Probably smart.” I didn’t want to shave it off like last time. Hadn’t worked anyway.

  “Strip and get in the kitchen.”

  I did as I was told. Reese joined me with another box. This one was store-bought hair dye. Awesome. She spent way too much time reading the box. How hard could it be?

  “You know I’m only wearing my underwear, right?”

  “Yes, it’s distracting.” She didn’t look away from the box.

  I smiled. “I mean, it’s cold.”

  “Sorry. I’ve never done this before.”

  “Liar,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “Senior year. You died Carson’s hair blue when he was super drunk and he couldn’t stop you.”

  Reese started laughing. “I was trying to give him more school spirit.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Yeah. Now shut up. I’m trying to read.”

  Reese opened the box. There was a lot of crap in there. She put on the disposable gloves, then mixed some shit together in a squeeze bottle.

  “Sit down and hold still.”

  “Gotcha.” I sat in the only chair in the kitchen—furnishing hadn’t been a big priority—and bowed my head forward.

  Reese started squeezing the contents of the bottle onto my head. It was cold. But then she started massaging it into my hair. Which felt good.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I got it on your ear. Do you think that’s bad?”

  “Probably. Wipe it off.”

  “Let me finish. Then I’ll clean you up.”

  It didn’t take her long to finish. My hair was short. She peeled off the gloves and tossed them into the sink. Then she used a damp towel to wipe off my neck and ears.

  “That feels good,” I said.

  “Shut up.”

  “It does.” I lifted my head and stared into her eyes. They went gray. So I kissed her. She smiled against my lips.

  “This isn’t supposed to be fun, you know?”

  “But I’m with you. So it’s fun already.” I grinned.

  “Liar.”

  “Hey, Reese.”

  “What?”

  “Marry me?”

  “Shouldn’t you be on one knee, wearing clothing, and not covered in hair color?”

  I laughed. But the girl wanted it, so I slid off the chair and knelt. “Now will you marry me?”

  Reese leaned down and kissed me. “Yes.”

  “Are you just saying that ’cause I’m not wearing a shirt?”

  “Yes.” She kissed me again.

  “Good enough.” I stood and pulled her into a hug.

  “Get off.” She pushed me away. “I don’t want dye all over me.”

  “Fine. But you’re gonna marry me?” It seemed like I should make sure.

  “Yes, Coop, I’m going to marry you.”

  “I win,” I said.

  Reese rolled her eyes. “We’re on the run now. Try to be serious.”

  “All right. I’ll pretend to be serious.” I sighed like it was a big deal. “So, seriously, you’re gonna marry me?” Reese rolled her eyes. “Fine.” I sat in my chair. “How long do I have to keep this crap on?”

  “Ummm.” She picked up the box again. “Like ten more minutes.”

  “This is totally how I envisioned the night going.”

  “Such a romantic.”

  “I know.”

  Ten minutes later, Reese washed my hair in the sink. Soapy dye kept running down my face. It collected in my ears and dripped off the end of my nose. I didn’t like it. So I shut my eyes and tried to breathe through my mouth.

  When I straightened, Reese toweled my hair dry. She was all sexy and concentrating. I kissed her. For real this time. Nibbled on her lower lip, tasted the tip of her tongue. I pulled her close. She dropped the towel and kissed me back. Her hands fell to my shoulders and slid down my back.

  “Wait. We can’t.” Reese pulled away.

  “Yeah, we can. I’m chemical free.” I backed her against the counter.

  “No, we need to get out of here. Like an hour ago.”

  “An hour ago we weren’t even here.”

  “Exactly,” she said.

  “Damn.”

  “Whoever the hell is after us could be here anytime.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  *

  I put my pants back on. Reese lost the skirt and I lost my resolve. But then she gave me a scary look so I let her put some jeans on. Reese exchanged her top for the T-shirt I’d pulled out. We pocketed our new phones. Reese grabbed a set of keys from the kitchen. After studying the street out the windows for a full five minutes, we went out the door. Reese was in the middle of locking it when I stopped her.

  “Shit, wait.”

  “What now?”

  “Your ring. I got you a fuckin’ awesome ring. It’s inside. In my jacket pocket.”

  Reese managed to glare and laugh at the same time. But she opened the door back up. I ran in, grabbed the little wooden box, and ran back out.

  “Do I know how to propose or what?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you’re really suave.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re driving.” Reese tossed me the car keys.

  “Okay, why?”

  “Because I want to stare at my new ring.”

  “It’s awesome.”

  “Did they all help pick it out?” Reese stared at the box skeptically. She hadn’t opened it yet.

  “I let Breno pick out the box. Christopher helped pick out the ring. Ryan got to pick it up.”

  “Thank God. Ryan’s taste is…not great.”

  “For real.”

  We climbed in the car. I didn’t see anyone around. And no one followed us. It was getting late. Any tail would have been obvious.

  “I think we’re in the clear.”

  Reese didn’t say anything. I spared her a glance. She was cradling the ring box and it looked like she was crying.

  “Are you crying?” I asked.

  “No.” Yes. “Pull over.”

  I did. Reese popped both our seat belts and climbed into my lap.

  “I guess you like it?”

  “Shut up.” And then she was kissing me. Fingers twisting in my damp hair, tongue in my mouth, tits pressed against mine, ass grinding into my lap, kissing me.

  We could ditch the cops later.

  I pulled her into the backseat with me. We fell so my feet were still in the front seat and her tits were in my face. Reese laughed and pulled her shirt over her head.

  “Smooth, sweetheart.”

  “I know.” I started unbuttoning her jeans. There was some fumbling and an elbow to my stomach, but we managed to get both our shirts off and her jeans halfway down her ass. She yanked my jeans and got them and one shoe off.

  “So fucking romantic,” Reese said.

  “Wait till you see what I planned for the honeymoon.”

  And then we were both laughing and kissing and I really, really didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to arrest us. Reese pressed her leg between mine. I arched up to meet her thrusts. Her hands were tangled in my hair, holding me close.

  “You know it’s kinda hot, right?” Reese asked.

  “Huh? No talking. Kiss me.” I captured her
lips again.

  “Your hair,” she said against my lips. “You’re kinda hot as a brunette.”

  “You’re hotter.” And then I slid my tongue into her mouth and she stopped talking.

  Reese wrapped her arms around my shoulders, lifting my face closer to hers. I pulled her hips close until I could feel her skin everywhere. Just everywhere.

  “Touch me, Coop. Come on.”

  So I pushed my hand between our bodies. She gasped when I slid my fingertips around her clit, lifted her hips so I could slip inside her. The warm grasp of her muscles pulled me in. She moaned into my mouth.

  I so loved this girl.

  “Come with me?” Reese asked. I could only nod and stare into her eyes. Fuck, she had beautiful eyes.

  When Reese squeezed my clit, I thought my head was going to come off. And my heart was just going to beat right out of my chest. As I fucked her slow, then hard, and slow again, she just kept rubbing my clit. Too slow to come. Fast enough to keep me waiting, begging on the edge.

  Her lips left mine, trailed down my cheek to my ear. Her warm breath tickled my neck. She bit a spot, sucked hard. She was going to come. Soon.

  She picked up the pace, increased the pressure on my clit.

  And then we were coming. Her hips jerked in my lap. Her fingers twitched on my clit. I lost myself in the feel of her clenching around my fingers. She gasped, moaned in my ear, and collapsed into me.

  We stayed like that. I don’t know how long. I kissed her hair. Played my hand over her bare back. She kissed my neck, softly, slowly. Like she was falling asleep. But she wasn’t.

  “It’s really pretty.”

  “Huh?” I was always articulate after sex.

  “The ring. It’s really pretty.”

  “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

  “Yeah.” Reese kissed my neck again and started to sit up. “We have to go.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I know.” She started pulling her jeans back up. I found her bra and handed it over.

  “Have you seen my other shoe?” I’d managed to get my pants back on, but the shoe was gone.

  “Uhhh.” Reese climbed into the front seat. I smacked her ass when she reached down to the floorboards for my shoe. “Not helping.”

  “Or am I?” I asked.

  “No.” She threw the shoe at me. “Not helping.”

  Five minutes later, we were back on the road. Fully clothed and everything. Being on the run sucks.

  *

  “Holy fuck.” Ryan yanked us inside and shut the door. “They’re here,” he called. And then he pulled us into a group hug.

  Breno and Christopher came into the room. They waited until we were done hugging Ryan, then they hugged us too.

  “What happened?” Breno asked.

  “My sister showed up. We were having dinner and I looked up and she was walking down the street. So I followed her.”

  “But why did we need to run?” Christopher asked. “She’s only a kid.”

  “She’s eighteen now. Not a kid. Feds sent her in. I saw the wire when she hugged Reese. I need coffee. Do we have coffee?” I moved past them into the small kitchen. There was a pot of coffee waiting. I poured a mug. When I turned around, Christopher, Breno, and Ryan were all crammed into the doorway. Ryan was practically vibrating.

  “Why the hell would the Feds send in an eighteen-year-old?” Christopher asked.

  Not a question I wanted to answer. Really, really not a question I wanted to answer. I had a pretty good idea of why the Feds would resort to the fuckin’ low move of sending in my baby sis. She was a risk. A child in a foreign country betting on a familial tie that might be dead.

  After France, they probably figured she was their last shot. But the guys didn’t know about that weird weekend on the Mediterranean.

  Reese and I had figured we didn’t need to tell them. It was in Marseille that we had figured out how the cops were following us. So we hauled ass home and suggested that everyone get new passports. Christopher called his guy and he came through. No big. It had been six months since the last time we were followed on one of our little vacations.

  We thought we were in the clear. Apparently, we were wrong.

  Reese was standing behind the guys. I caught her eye and she gave me a brief nod.

  “Remember when Reese and I went to France a little while ago?” I asked.

  “Yeah, what about it?” Christopher asked.

  “And when we got back we suggested that everyone get new passports?”

  “That was when we decided to have safe houses,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah. Well, Reese and I kinda didn’t mention something.”

  “What do you mean?” Breno asked.

  “We were being followed in Paris,” Reese said from behind them.

  They all spun to face Reese.

  “What the fuck?” Ryan.

  “Why did you not tell us?” Breno.

  “Damn it.” Christopher.

  “Also in Nice,” I said. They turned back to stare at me. “And Marseille.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Christopher.

  “My God.” Breno.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Ryan.

  “How could you not tell us that?” Breno asked.

  “We didn’t want you guys to worry,” Reese said. They spun comically. This was getting ridiculous. Reese pushed through the doorway and perched on the counter. I poured her a cup of coffee.

  “We thought it was a fluke in Paris. We were in this weird little town. What was it?” I asked Reese.

  She shrugged. “It was pretty.” Well, that narrowed it down.

  “So we were in this town and it was like touristy, but not American touristy. And it was just like what happened in Corsica. This American couple started following us. Different couple than last time, but it was a small place, hard to miss, you know? Then we went south and they were there too.”

  “I am going to kill you two,” Breno said. Then he started muttering in Portuguese. I’d picked up enough to know he was pissed.

  Reese rolled her eyes. “Cut the dramatics. It happened before. This time we just dealt with it solo.”

  “Yeah, we figured out it was our passports tipping them off. So everyone got new ones. And none of us have been followed since. Chill,” I said.

  “Chill?” Christopher didn’t seem to want to chill. “If it was your passports, then they were able to tell every damn time that you disappeared in Spain. You led them to us.”

  “Fuck off. Spain is big. Needle in a haystack.” Reese waved him off.

  Breno started cursing in Portuguese again. Ryan and Christopher started cursing in English.

  “Guys, calm the fuck down,” I said.

  “She’s right,” Christopher said. Breno and Ryan looked at him like he’d lost it. “We can yell later. Right now we need to leave the country.”

  Breno sighed. Loudly. “Brazil?”

  “Yes. You and I will travel separately,” Christopher told Breno. “The kids will use their new passports”—he glared at me and Reese—“and fly out from here.”

  “Did Adriana give you any useful information?” Breno asked.

  “Yeah, what’d she say?” Ryan asked.

  “Well, she wanted to see you,” I said.

  “Damn, girl, I know that. I’m hot as fuck,” Ryan said.

  Reese, Christopher, Breno, and I all sighed and shook our heads. When we managed to overcome that statement—which took a while—Reese and I launched into the story. We stopped telling it at the part where we got to the apartment. They didn’t need to know all the details.

  “The Feds have been watching us for weeks?” Breno asked.

  “I guess.” I shrugged. “Sounded like it.”

  “So they know what Breno and I look like and that we are involved?” Christopher asked.

  “Shit.” Reese.

  “Fuck.” Ryan.

  “And they als
o know by now that we left. They may have even followed us. They could be outside right now.” Breno pointed at the front door.

  Ryan’s eyes got wide. “Fuck that.” He ran back into the living room, grabbed his backpack, ran back to the kitchen, and started to muscle the window open. We were on the third floor. Not smart.

  “Ryan, stop.” I grabbed him and pulled him away. “Don’t be a dumbass.”

  “No, Coop. We gotta go.” He pushed me aside and started to shove his bag out the window.

  I pulled the bag back out and body slammed Ryan into the wall. “They didn’t follow you.”

  “How the fuck do you know?”

  “Because if they followed you they would already be in here arresting our asses.”

  “Oh.” He thought about that for a second. Then he closed the window. “My bad.”

  “I’m assuming you guys left out the back and took the long way to the backup car. Like I told you too,” Reese said.

  “Yeah. Okay, you’re right. I’m dumb,” Ryan said.

  “We still need to get going,” Christopher said.

  “Yes, the longer we wait, the better chance they have of catching us,” Breno said.

  “Which airport?” Reese asked. “They’re probably waiting at Jerez.”

  “But if we drive too far, there’s a chance they will have alerted the authorities to stop us,” Christopher said.

  “I think Seville is our best bet,” I said.

  “What about Málaga?” Reese asked.

  “That could work,” Christopher said.

  “I agree.” Breno nodded.

  “Málaga, then.” I didn’t give a fuck where we flew out of. I just wanted to be gone.

  “Bro.” Ryan picked his bag back up.

  Christopher and Breno nodded. In five minutes, we had grabbed our bags and were on our way.

  *

  Christopher and Breno dropped us at the front of the airport, then left to park the car somewhere else. They would take a cab back to the airport. We weren’t as worried about them being followed, so they were going to catch a flight directly to Brazil.

  Reese and Ryan and I were supposed to fly to somewhere in South America. Wherever we could get the soonest flight to. Ryan and I hung back, pretending to get our backpacks in order. It was a ruse. The bags just had clothes. Breno had all the important paperwork for our bank accounts. We had destroyed all the documentation that would screw us if it were found. So all we had were our real passports and the passports we would be using.