The Getaway Car

by Leddy Harper

  “Do you know who it was? Was he ever caught?”

  Maggie shook her head and closed her eyes.

  “I’ve seen the scar on your jaw. Other than that, I haven’t noticed any other sign of you being injured…yet you were unconscious for two days. I’m not asking you to relive what happened; I’m simply having a difficult time putting the pieces together.”

  “You don’t believe me?” She tried to pull her hand away, except I wouldn’t let her.

  I squeezed her fingers and waited until she stopped fighting. “I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. But for some reason, I need to see it in my head. And please don’t ask why—I’m not entirely sure. The thought of you being hurt fucking kills me…got it? So it’s not like I’m trying to visualize it for some demented, sadistic reason. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there, and I hate that you were alone, so in a fucked-up way, seeing it in my head would mean you hadn’t been alone.”

  “I was kicked, thrown down, slapped, yanked around by my hair…the list goes on and on. I woke up with bruises, swelling, broken bones. None of which you’d be able to tell by looking at me now.” Her defenses were heightened, and it gutted me. She only reacted this way she assumed I doubted her.

  “Maggie, hold on for a minute please.” After a few steadying breaths, she let me continue. “Earlier, you told me about how you begged him to let you go, but it ended up pissing him off more. Why was he so mad? You said you didn’t know him…so what was he after?”

  She shrugged, and for the first time since we’d sat down and began to talk, I doubted her response. “He was looking for money.”

  “Why didn’t you just give him the backpack?”

  “I did.” She swallowed harshly. “Except it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. And when I couldn’t give him more, he became enraged. Nothing I did or said helped.”

  “And that’s when you told him you were pregnant?” I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that bomb she’d dropped. I’d almost questioned her at the time; I didn’t because I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear her answer.

  Maggie had been on her period the one and only time we were together, so I assumed the baby—if one even existed—hadn’t been mine. When she’d told me about the break-in, and how she’d begged the man to leave, she’d mentioned being pregnant as more of an excuse to make the violence end. Needless to say, I wasn’t sure what to believe.

  “I told him lots of things. I used anything I could think of to keep him from hitting me one more time. I would’ve told him I was the queen of England if it would’ve made him leave.” Well, that answered that question.

  “What made him finally quit?”

  “He threw me through a window.” She spoke as if she were telling me a story about someone else—detached, matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure if that’s when it actually ended, since I was unconscious in a pile of glass, but at least that’s the last thing I remembered him doing.” It was her turn to squeeze my hand, sensing me pull away. “No, Talon…he didn’t do that.”

  That solidified it—Maggie could read my mind.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” The truth was right there, lit by the color of the ocean. It was enough to carry away the doubt and fear that swirled within me at the mere thought of just how much she’d suffered at the hands of this monster.

  We were interrupted by two plates of food.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t prevent her from turning the tables on me.

  Maggie

  Thankfully, Talon hadn’t asked about much, and none of it had been things I couldn’t answer. Granted, there were a couple I wished I didn’t have to explain; in all, it could’ve been worse.

  I waited until he took the first bite of his hamburger to get some details from him. After all, he hadn’t hesitated when putting me in the hot seat, so if nothing else, I was just returning the favor.

  “What happened after you were arrested? How’d you get back to Fleetwood?”

  He stopped chewing for a second, his eyes on mine. Finally, he dropped his gaze, swallowed his food, and then washed it down with water—taking his time to prolong his response.

  “Well, when the cops ran my ID, they discovered a warrant for my arrest in Iowa, so they transported me over state lines for that. I dealt with those charges, and ever since, I’ve been running Tony’s shop. He’d left it to me after he died, so I’ve been—”

  “Hold up.” I raised my hand, needing him to quit talking long enough for my brain to catch up and my heart to slow down. “There was a warrant for your arrest? For what?” Questions continued to bombard me. “Does this mean you hadn’t been arrested because of me? They were there for you?”

  “Would you like to make a list so I don’t forget to answer any of them?” He smiled as if we hadn’t been in the middle of discussing whatever crime he’d committed prior to me getting into his car. “I was in a fight. And I can’t be sure, but I highly doubt they had come for me.”

  This entire time, I’d assumed I was the only one hiding something. When in reality, he had his own dark secrets, too. “So, what…? You were arrested for aggravated assault or something?”

  He took a drink of his water and then wiped his mouth with a napkin, nodding.

  “If they weren’t called for you, then why did they arrest you?”

  “Once I realized you hadn’t gone to the bathroom, I went looking for you. By the time I got to the parking lot and realized my car was gone, the cruiser pulled up. I was asked to show my ID, and even though I had the right to deny them, I’d only look suspicious if I did. Too bad I couldn’t tell them I didn’t have it, because it seems that was the one thing you let me keep. So, I gave the man my license and prayed he’d let me go.”

  “That’s how they found the warrant?”

  “Guess so. And regardless of why I was arrested or who had called them, I wouldn’t have been in that parking lot had you not left. More than likely, I wouldn’t have been asked for my ID, which means they never would’ve discovered the charges in Iowa. But if it makes you feel better thinking you weren’t the reason I had to be extradited in handcuffs, go for it.”

  Clearly, he still held onto a few grudges. “It’s not like you ever told me any of that, Talon. Nor was I the one who called the cops in the first place. Had there been any question in my mind—no matter how great or small—that you’d get in trouble, I would’ve done things differently.”

  At least, I hoped I would have—it wasn’t like I had been in the right frame of mind that night. Regardless, without all the secrets, nothing would’ve turned out the way it had.

  Talon continued to eat his burger, and I chose to use that time to focus on my own food. Together, we sat in silence. I hated it. He made me come here so we could move on. And still, even after we put it all out there, filled in the missing pieces for each other, there was still a mountain of garbage between us.

  “Did you go to jail?” My voice was soft, sounding as if I were afraid to ask. In reality, I wasn’t at all. More than anything, I was saddened by the idea of him finding me gone, his car stolen, and then arrested in less than ten minutes.

  Rather than respond with words, he continued to chew his burger and nodded.

  “How long?”

  He didn’t wait until his mouth was clear before he muttered, “It wasn’t a big deal. I was in and out, did my time, and continued to live my life.”

  I picked at the French fries on my plate, stirring them in a puddle of ketchup, and contemplated something I hadn’t given much thought to since he’d shown up at the diner. Truthfully, there was no reason I hadn’t stopped to question it; it was right in front of me this entire time.

  “So you live in Iowa?” I waited for an answer, only to get another nod. “In Billings?”

  “No. Fleetwood.”

  The same town where we’d met. “And it’s taken you all this time to find me?”

  Finally, he finished chewing and decided to give me more than a f
ew words in return. “You haven’t been the easiest person to track down. Trust me, I tried. Not to mention, I wasn’t expecting to find you forty minutes away. The last time I saw you, you were in Mississippi, heading to some unknown destination in Florida. Google can only do so much with ‘Maggie Abram’s grandfather’s house.’”

  I couldn’t argue with him there. “Then how’d you find me?”

  “I told you…one of the guys at the shop was talking about you.”

  “Yeah, I just thought you were kidding.”

  “Why would that be a joke? Are you saying you didn’t have a flat tire Wednesday?”

  I hated how angry he sounded, as if I’d done something to piss him off. And now, I was faced with two options—continue to fight it out until we both had clarity, and possibly, forgiveness, or do as I had warned and leave. Actually, I had a third choice—stay and not carry on with the conversation, which didn’t appeal to me.

  I pushed my plate away from the edge of the table and straightened my spine. “As lovely as this was, I think I’m going to bow out now. Thank you for dinner.” I held my hand out and asked, “Can I please have the room key?”

  His gaze narrowed, though I wasn’t sure how much of it was irritation and how much was confusion. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t care to find out. It didn’t mean that much to me. Not to mention, he practically growled, “Just stay. I’m almost done,” I no longer questioned his mood.

  “No.” I slid toward the end of the bench, prepared to climb out of the booth. “I told you I would leave if I became uncomfortable.”

  “You also said you’d tell me if that happened.”

  “I did…at the same time I asked for the card to let me in the room. Figured you’d prefer to know where I’ll be, since you like to have all the control, but I guess that wasn’t good enough for you. So, it looks like I’ll have to find somewhere else to stay until you’re ready to let me get my things and lie down.”

  For someone who was almost done, he certainly spent more time talking and not enough time eating. “Why are you uncomfortable? All I asked was if you had a flat tire the day before I showed up at the diner.”

  “It’s what you insinuated by it.”

  He opened his mouth, more than likely to fling another argument or insult at me, but I didn’t let him. He saw me as weak, and maybe I was where certain things were concerned, except I refused to be another man’s punching bag—verbal or otherwise. I could only handle so much before I snapped. And I wasn’t talking about breaking down into a pathetic pile of tears or crumbling at the feet of a man I’d once idolized. I’d had enough, and if I had any other way home, I would’ve left more than just the bar.

  I ignored my name and walked out. When I made it to the covered breezeway just outside the office, I relished in the silence. The chill in the air had me wrapping my arms around my midsection, finding both security and warmth in the hoodie I rarely took off.

  Standing at the edge of the parking lot, I admired the way the deep hues of purple, red, and orange blended together atop the trees lining the horizon. I turned from side to side to take it all in, and off to the right, I was pulled in and held captive by the sight of lights. The blinking bulbs and zipping flashes of rides and games only present at a fair called to me, and my feet carried me in that direction.

  I hadn’t made it far before heavy footsteps alerted me of company. Rather than menacing, they were frantic, denoting a large man desperately chasing someone down—Talon being the man, the someone being me. Still, I didn’t stop, not even when his thunderous voice bellowed my name. He’d either let me go, or he’d close the distance between us. I wasn’t walking with any hurry, so the latter wasn’t much of a feat for him.

  “Maggie…please, wait.” He stepped in front of me, acting like a wall of stone I couldn’t pass through. I’d run into him before, so I had firsthand knowledge of just how impenetrable he was—and that had been years ago. “Will you please talk to me instead of taking off? Didn’t you learn anything the last time?”

  “I tried, Talon.” I stepped away and crossed my arms. “I’m not sure what happened back there, but something pissed you off and you shut down. It’s kinda hard to carry on a rational conversation with someone who refuses to listen.”

  “You asked how I found you. I answered. You didn’t like it and left. How’s that my fault? How does that translate into me refusing to listen?”

  “I’m not going to argue, Talon. So if that’s why you stopped me, to force me to stand here while you make me feel two inches tall, then you’re wasting your time and breath.”

  He danced on his feet, shifting side to side to block my escape with every step I took. I wondered if he intended to piss me off so we’d both be mad. However, I refused to give him the satisfaction, and eventually, stopped trying to get around him. Instead, I planted my feet on the road and stared up at him. The darkening sky only added to the intensity of his gaze, which covered my body in gooseflesh—not the fearful kind.

  “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or for whatever I’ve done or said that is making you feel small. Please tell me what I’m doing wrong or why you’re feeling this way, so I can fix it and make it right.”

  When he realized it was safe to speak again, that I wouldn’t take off, his posture softened and the irritation that had clung to him in the bar vanished. It would’ve been sweet if I hadn’t already resigned myself to making it through tonight so I didn’t have to deal with him—or his attitude—again.

  “Can you at least tell me what set you off?” When Talon begged, his gravelly tone scratched along each syllable until it became a rumbling vibrato, eliciting desires of sex and passion only he could give.

  “The other morning, when you told me about some guy stopping to help with my tire…I thought you were only saying it to get to me. It’s not like you hesitated to show just how much you couldn’t stand me. So tonight, once we had broken down a few barriers and decided to hash everything out, I figured it would be safe to ask, to find out the truth. Yet you not only stuck to the original story, you also seem to believe it.”

  “It’s because that’s what happened,” he defended.

  “Is it? Is it really, Talon? Were you there? Yes, I had to pull over on my way home from work because my tire was flat. And yes, someone stopped to help. I could’ve done it myself, and I was halfway done, but since he was obviously a mechanic and he offered, I allowed him to finish.”

  His shoulders heaved the longer I spoke, his breaths becoming ragged and posture rigid. And suddenly, I was gifted with a sliver of understanding. Aside from one comment about who held the blame for his arrest, he’d been rather open and comforting. His sincerity was believable enough to ease my trepidation and allow me to open up. And when the roles were reversed, he answered my questions without resistance—even if some of his responses were less verbal than others. Yet when it came to how he’d found me, a fire burned inside…the kind that made him hot with rage, not hunger.

  I pulled in a full inhalation, and then quickly blew it past my lips. It was enough to cleanse myself of negativity, and immediately, my body deflated. No longer feeling the need to keep distance between us, I stepped toward him and placed my hand on his chest. “Do you honestly believe I would’ve sucked a random stranger off on the side of the road just because he changed my tire?”

  “Hell if I know, Maggie.” He held his arms out from his sides before letting them fall. “I spent two days with you, and then you vanished for four years—with my car. It’s not like I could turn around and say that didn’t sound like something you’d do, because I clearly didn’t know shit about you, did I? I didn’t think you would’ve left me stranded, nearly broke, and without a way to call for a ride, either. But you did.”

  I dropped my hand, my gaze falling with it. As soon as I lifted my foot to retreat a step or two, his bearlike paw seized my elbow and held me close. A gasp flooded the feverish space between us, and when I glanced up, I became a willing captive to
his beautifully haunting eyes.

  “I have no idea what to think, sweetheart.” His magnetic, profound voice swarmed me until nothing else existed in the entire world. “Just because I can’t imagine you doing that doesn’t mean I don’t have doubts. Not to mention…you haven’t denied it.”

  “I wasn’t aware I needed to. And if you need to hear me tell you it didn’t happen, I will. But before I do, I’d like to point out how insulting it is that you don’t think better of me and need to hear me verbalize my denial.”

  His grip tightened, and when he spoke, his voice became impossibly deeper. Impossibly stronger. Impossibly…more. “We’ve done things ass-backward from the beginning, sweetheart. It’s easy to stand here and expect the other to see us inside and out, to trust each other blindly and believe that our hearts and intentions are in the right place. But in reality, we can’t. And in my world, following with nothing other than unfounded faith as a guide will lead you straight into the lion’s den. This isn’t about what I want to believe…it’s about what I don’t know and how unwilling I am to risk my life in your hands again.”

  On any other day, in any other town, with any other man, I would’ve been offended, and likely, slapped him. But after the paths we’d taken from the very first time we’d met—the betrayal and regret that’s driven us since—and finally reaching the light at the end of that tunnel, I was able to understand what he meant.

  “He finished changing my tire, I told him thank you, and he left.”

  “That’s it?” His exhale breathed life into me. “The little fuck didn’t even hit on you? He made everyone believe you’d thrown yourself at him.”

  Out of everything I could’ve found humorous, that had to be the one that left me cackling against his chest, unable to pull myself together. And then his laughter rumbled through him, provoking mine even more. By the end of it, he had his arms draped over my shoulders while I clung to his jacket. He dropped his face next to mine, his mouth close to my ear, and I leaned into him with my cheek pressed against his chest. If anyone drove by the two of us right now, they’d probably assume we were in love.