“I have a feeling you’re going to do just fine. The journey will be tough. But you’ll do fine.”
Fucking crap, she gripped the door handle so hard that her fingernails bent against the metal. “How much do I owe you?” she remembered to ask. “Take credit cards?” The dark joke on herself was humorous for only an instant.
“The only thing you owe me is to have a good life and help others when you can.”
“Thanks.” Kylie propelled herself out the door before she could think about doing anything else.
Chapter Two
Running From the Law
Not looking back, she nearly ran to her door. Since the bastard cops had left it unlocked, she entered and cautiously gazed around the dark living room before finally shutting the door.
For once in her life, Kylie was glad she hadn’t gotten another pet after her cat, Jester, had died. She’d convinced herself to wait until she could move to a more pet-friendly location.
Unable to stand it, she switched on a reading lamp for some light. The jarring ring of her land-line phone caused Kylie to jump and clutch her throat. Nearly stumbling over a footstool, she made her way to the phone and stared down at caller ID.
Joe, one of her classmates. The spineless creep was always asking for help of some kind. His wheedling voice began on her out-dated answering machine.
Grimly, Kylie turned away. He already knew about her arrest and wanted all the gory juicy details. She blocked out his slick-as-oil words dropping her purse on the sofa.
Feeling parched suddenly, she strode to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. Tipping it up, she drank about half of it in record time, then stared at the contents inside her fridge. Shit, she had to think. Get her act together.
The urge to simply run, jump in her car, and flee seized her like the latest murdering perv on CSI. No, stay calm, she told herself as she set the bottle down and closed the door. With her adrenaline spiking, she hurried for the coat closet and jerked it open.
She hauled out three large duffel bags, tossed two of them on her sofa, then filled the third with her outerwear. With that done, she rummaged through the closet’s interior to find her flashlight. Keeping a cool head, she surveyed her possessions, adding those she wanted to take.
Dragging the duffel bag over to the front door, she grabbed another one. With the flashlight’s beam leading the way, she rushed for her small bedroom. “I guess it was a good thing I did the laundry,” she muttered as she piled in her underwear, her T-shirts and jogging pants.
Feeling like a superheroine who possessed the power of super-speed, Kylie opened all her drawers and shoved everything she could inside the duffel bag. As she lifted the flashlight, she caught a glimpse of her teddy bear collection. By God, she wasn’t leaving them behind.
“Come on, guys,” she whispered, stuffing them inside the bag. “You, too,” she murmured to her Beanie Babies. Sweeping them in her arms and clutching the flashlight, she headed for the living room.
The beam from headlights lit up the room. Kylie froze, terrified it could be the cops. Her stomach lurched painfully until she saw the outline of an SUV. Watching it pass by, she loosed a sigh of relief, then closed her eyes and let her head drop back for an instant. “Okay, in you go.” Dropping to her knees, Kylie found a corner in her already filled bag and shoved each Beanie Baby inside.
“Shoes,” she reminded herself. Jumping up, the flashlight in one hand, she seized the third duffel bag and charged toward her bedroom.
After swinging the large-sized bag next to her bed, she opened it wide and bending at the waist, she rapidly packed the shoes she kept underneath. Straightening at what felt like hyper speed, she gripped the duffel bag’s handle and dragged it toward her tiny closet.
“Damn!” The flashlight shone on her shelves of books, textbooks, novels, and her gardening books. There was no way to take them with her. At least, not most of them. Kylie died inside a little at the thought.
Remembering that her laptop, her desktop computer, and all of her CDs and DVDs had been confiscated by the so-called authorities, she muttered, “Damn fucking bastards. I know there’s a hell waiting just for you.”
A second later, she grinned with a bit of triumph. They probably hadn’t gotten the jumpdrives she’d hidden beneath her mattress so they wouldn’t be stolen. Break-ins were common in the neighborhood, and she’d gotten into the habit of keeping all her computer files, especially her research on the tiny devices.
Whirling around, she lifted the bottom corner of her bed to make certain. Yep, there it was, the tiny decorative tin she used to store them.
Setting the flashlight down, she opened it. All six were there, making her smile for a moment. And so was the thousand dollars in cash she kept for emergencies. She closed the tin’s lid quickly, forced it between two of her teddy bears, then returned to the closet.
Kneeling, she searched out her boots and the rest of her shoes, tossing them inside the duffel bag.
“Yes!” Kylie reached for the handle of a suitcase her mother had given her when she’d first headed off to college. Unlatching it, she set the large suitcase on top of one duffel bag. Whipping her sexy going-out clothes off their hangers, she rolled them tightly and placed them inside the suitcase.
This time when her phone rang, she cocked her ear while carrying the suitcase to her bed. After zipping up one of her duffel bags, she heaved it upward and moved sideways into the living room.
Her sister’s frantic voice called out her name several times. Dropping the bag at her feet, Kylie stood stock still, her insides churning fast as a damn hurricane.
“Kylie, are you there? Don’t worry. I’m on my way. We’ll find you a good lawyer. Don’t worry, honey. I love you. I’ll always love you.”
“Noooo…” Kylie moaned, her emotional pain cutting a swathe through her. She shoved her fist inside her mouth, then bit down as sobs wracked her body.
Stop, she ordered herself. You don’t have time for this.
Removing her fist, she picked up the duffel bag. Sniffling loudly, she placed it beside the sofa. “I don’t care if there’s room or not.” Kylie spun around, her steps determined.
Aiming the flashlight toward the area of the book shelf where she kept her two photo albums, both of them fat with pictures, she found them and tenderly held them to her chest. Carrying the albums to the suitcase, she placed them within, then marched inside the bathroom.
Kylie opened the cabinet drawer where she kept her naughtiest lingerie pieces. “Fuck you, you asshole creepazoids. You’re not taking everything away from me.” With her jaw clenched, she snatched a laundry bag and used it for her lingerie, then dug out the jewelry she’d hidden at the back of the drawer, shoving it in as well.
Wrapping her arm around a pile of fresh towels, she carried them and the laundry bag to the suitcase. Arranging the contents swiftly, she lowered the lid and checked for any remaining space. “Washcloths,” she whispered, then hurried back inside the bathroom.
Lifting the lid of her makeup case, one she’d had since she was sixteen, Kylie cleaned out her medicine cabinet. Then she opened the top drawer where she kept her makeup. “Good thing there’s enough space for everything. Oh crap,” she muttered, remembering all of her vitamin and herbal supplements in the kitchen cabinets
She latched the case shut and carried it the sofa, her legs snapping like scissor blades with her speed. Rushing back into the bathroom lit up by the neighbor’s lights, she gathered up her linens and washclothes, then threw them on her bed.
“Blankets, blankets,” she chanted. “And my pillows.” Who knew if she’d end up sleeping in the roomy backseat of her grandma car, as she called it, since she’d seen so many older ladies driving the same late-nineties model.
Loading up the third duffel bag and the suitcase, Kylie carried them to the sofa, then piled her pillows and her folded blankets on top. Practically running into the kitchen with her dimming flashlight, she snagged one of her canvas sho
pping bags. She opened the cabinet where she kept her health supplements, filling the bag quick as she could. Grabbing another one, she threw in more bottles and her tea boxes.
Kylie jerked open the refrigerator door, then positioned her largest canvas bag. She grabbed everything that wouldn’t go bad, then put in what she could snack on, mostly her organic fruits and veggies.
Setting that bag down, she grabbed her last canvas bag and stepped up on the small stool she always kept handy. “Good thing I went shopping yesterday,” she murmured, making quick work of clearing the upper cabinets out.
“Damn!” Kylie set the canvas bags close to the sofa. She hadn’t even checked her handbag to see if everything was still there. Retrieving the flashlight, she held her breath and checked inside. Everything appeared to be as she’d left it. There were her car keys and the tiny faux fur purses she used to put her money and credit cards in. Kylie pulled out the tiger fur purse. Yep, all her credit cards were inside.
Headlights shot inside her front window and Kylie ducked. Shit, she was in danger of being caught. With her breathing ragged and her heart racing, Kylie watched the minivan pass by. After closing her handbag, with her car keys in hand, she approached the window and peered outside. Seeing no sign of a car that shouldn’t be in her neighborhood, she whirled, reaching for the two lightest canvass bags.
Summoning her courage, she walked out the front door toward her car parked on the short drive just past the back of the house. Thank God, the cops hadn’t been interested in the car, once they’d made her open the trunk. Rapidly unlocking the passenger-side door, she stowed the bags in front of the seat, then moved around to the driver’s side.
With her whole body suddenly trembling, Kylie carefully backed up so she was as close to the front door as possible. Hearing a car approach, she flattened against the seat. Watching from her peripheral vision, she saw the neighbor two doors down as he turned into his driveway. Instead of parking beneath his carport, he stopped, his car in same position as hers.
Fuck. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and a river of fear washed over her. Giving her car a glance as he walked toward his door, he paused, then moved up the three steps onto his porch and inside his door. Kylie’s breath escaped. Her eyes slid shut while she gripped the steering wheel with the same force that she’d squeezed the jail bars. Was he calling 911 now?
In the next moment, Kylie leaped out of her car. Hell, she wasn’t going down without a fight for her freedom. Unlocking the trunk, she strode to the front door as if she were merely preparing to pack up for a trip back home.
With her skin clammy from perspiration, she carried out the first duffel bag and placed it inside the trunk. Never was she more glad for her larger-sized car.
Lifting up the next duffel bag, she launched toward the front door as the phone blasted rings behind her. Oh God. Not stopping, she put the duffel bag inside the trunk, then half slammed the lid closed. After snatching the back passenger door of the car open, she trotted toward her front porch, intent on hauling ass now.
Her father’s worried voice met her as she entered.
“Kylie, your father loves you. I just want you to know we’re here for you.”
“Dad,” she softly cried out, wishing with her whole being that she could pick up the phone and talk with him. “Dad, I love you. Oh, God, I love you.”
Impatiently, Kylie wiped her tears away. With her eyes burning badly, she bent and grabbed the third duffel bag. More than likely, she’d never see her parents or her sister again. No, never again.
Shit, she’d probably never see any of her friends again, that is, if she even successfully escaped.
God. The cruelty of it threatened to drop her to knees for a moment.
In the next breath, Kylie hated herself for what she was doing to her parents by disappearing this way. But, really, what was her choice? Prison loomed as a horror she would avoid at all costs, the cost being her family and friends.
Still, it would also devastate her parents, watching their daughter be convicted of a crime she hadn’t committed, not being able to do anything to stop it, especially after what her sister had been through, nearly being imprisoned for what she hadn’t done.
Kylie shoved the duffel bag to the far end of the back seat, then ran toward her front door. The sound of police sirens screamed in her mind as if she really heard them. But she didn’t. Not yet, anyway. It was merely her terrible panic.
Carrying both the suitcase and her makeup case, she headed back outside only to see elderly Mr. Peterson walking his schnauzer. The poor dog was grossly overweight and had fatty tumors all over its body. Mr. Peterson gave his standard wave and halted. “Are you okay, Kylie?”
“Sure am, Mr. Peterson,” she called out, slowing her pace. “It was all a misunderstanding.”
“That’s what I told the missus. Are you going to visit your folks for a while?”
“I am. I need to get away and relax.” Kylie thrust the suitcase inside, sliding it against the duffel bag. Setting the makeup case on the seat, she shut the door. After pasting a smile on her face, she pivoted toward Mr. Peterson.
“Well, now, you take care of yourself. Freud and I will see you when you get back.”
Kylie nodded. “See you later,” she called out, giving a little wave. Once Mr. Peterson started walking again, Freud tugging him along, she dashed inside the house and grabbed hold of the two canvas bags.
In her haste she nearly stumbled off the porch, but caught herself and kept on moving. Once she’d tossed the bags onto the front passenger seat, she glanced up and down the street. For the moment, nothing moved.
Letting the door partially close, she pivoted. High-beam headlights cut through the night from the far end of the next block. Kylie hurried inside.
With her mouth unbelievably dry, and her heart hammering against her ribs, she stacked the blankets and pillows, then placed her handbag on top. If that wasn’t a police car, she might just make it. Crushing the bundle against her chest, she edged forward, finally peering outside.
Streams of light illumined the street, but she couldn’t see the vehicle yet. The height of the headlights was that of a car. Kylie’s breath burst out in raw pants.
Glimpsing the long frame of a limo, she blew out a breath of temporary relief and moved outside. Managing to grip the door handle well enough, she pulled the door closed. Shit! She’d have to return to lock it properly. Still, why bother? Once the cops found out she’d flown the coop, they’d break the door down anyway.
Feeling sorry for her housemate, Kylie walked as fast as she could toward the passenger door. She shoved it open with her elbow, then stuffed her pillows and blankets on top of the floor-sitting canvas bags. After seizing her handbag, Kylie tossed it on the driver’s seat. Taking a step back, she glanced around, then slammed the door shut.
A police siren shrieked through the night. On instinct, Kylie spun and ran for the door. Her intellectual mind told her it was pure folly and more likely to get her caught. Still, she whipped the door open, rushing inside. She crept toward the front window. Not able to get enough air into her lungs, she watched for the police cruiser. Was it coming for her? Kylie tried to think.
She could hide in a closet for all the good that would do her. She could run out the back door, try to hide somewhere in the neighborhood, but most everyone had dogs who loved to bark at anything that dared move. She could race back out to her car and pretend she was in a car chase. Shit, she might make the nightly local news.
Wild scenes flashed through her mind of the car chase...her driving like a maniac with a siren-screaming phalanx of cruisers behind her...the helicopter above, its blades throbbing rapidly...the spotlight shining on her as she desperately avoided the police cruisers when they tried to cut her off or ambush her…the stop sticks…her being wrestled to ground and Tasered…oh God!
Kylie’s knees nearly gave out once the siren finally faded. Relief swamped her and she closed her eyes. Attempting to breathe normall
y, she straightened. Shit, her body felt like it was composed of breezes and nothing else.
A few seconds later, her eyelids popped open. Her books. She had two plastic containers where she stashed her best gardening books and her favorite romance novels.
Hell, why not? There was still room in the back seat of the car. With anger and adrenaline sparking through her, Kylie marched into her bedroom. After tossing off the stuff she kept on top of it, she undid one container’s lid to look inside.
“Okay, go for it,” she whispered. Since there was room for the pads of paper and pens she’d thrown off, she stuck them inside, then hoisted the container up.
Feeling like Wonder Woman, not that she looked like the superheroine, except for her smallish waist, Kylie peered out her front window, then moved outside. She had the container stowed in minutes.
Spinning around, she spied Mrs. Grainger lurking behind her spring-flowering bushes, only because her porch light flooded the entire area. Kylie waved and smiled, then sprinted inside her house. Swooping up her second purple container, she halted to switch off the reading light she’d turned on when she first entered.
Not bothering to peek outside, she burst outside, put the container down and shut the door behind her. “Goodbye,” she whispered to the house. Feeling strong in a new way, she gripped the container and straightened.
Yeah, life was one grand adventure alright. Shit!
Mrs. Grainger appeared on the edge of her front yard. “I’m calling the police,” she announced. Her self-righteousness cloaked her little shriveled body. “I’ll bet you’re not supposed to be leaving town.”
“You do that. I’ll bet they’ll appreciate the tip. Fuck, Mrs. Grainger, you might even get a reward for my capture.” Kylie flipped her another fake smile, then opened her back car door and settled the container inside.
While her new strength lasted, she might as well use it. Kylie didn’t fool herself, though. She doubted it would always be with her. No, her life had entered the realm of the dangerous and frightening.
Branded by the Texans [Three Star Republic] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 2
