Outside the Lines

by Lisa Desrochers

When she comes back for my drink order, I swallow the panic snaking up my throat with a double G and T. Panic that has nothing to do with what I’ll find in Chicago, and everything to do with the fact that I’m leaving the only real thing I’ve ever had behind.

  *

  It’s dusk when my flight lands at O’Hare. I grab my duffel off the luggage carousel, find a taxi at the curb. I tell the driver take me to the Bienville. We creep through city traffic and when we reach my family’s hotel, he drops me at the turnout. I walk to the edge of the sidewalk and stare out into the road, at the last place my mother was alive.

  The night goes blurry as the memory invades my head.

  The waiter brought the birthday cake. We sang “Happy Birthday.” Mom blew out all the candles on the first try, but wouldn’t tell us what she’d wished for.

  Pop pulling the small box from his pocket, handing it to Mom as the waiter poured champagne. Sherm’s toothy grin as he took the box from Mom and tore off the wrappings. Pop clasping the chain around Mom’s neck. The heavy gold pendant with five shimmering birthstones: topaz, emerald, two rubies, and a diamond.

  It’s funny the little things you remember. Pop helped Mom on with her coat. She was holding Sherm’s hand on the sidewalk, but Lee grabbed his other hand and towed him along as we all crossed the street behind Pop, Mom lagging a little, admiring the pendant.

  The car came out of nowhere.

  I finger the topaz in the thick band of my ring—my birthstone from the pendant Pop gave Mom that night. “Hey, Mom. Give me a sign here.”

  I wait silently for an answer. I need her to tell me what I’m doing is right. Maybe her whisper on the wind, or just the feel of her spirit.

  Nothing.

  It’s been a long time since I felt her. I know it’s because she’s ashamed of what I’ve become. She knew both sides of Pop better than anyone, but she always made sure his kids only saw the good in him. It wasn’t until she was gone and there was no filter that we saw what she’d tried to protect us from.

  Pop went off the deep end after the love of his life was murdered right in front of him. His vendetta ate him alive until all that was left of the man he’d been was his need for revenge. Is that who I am now? A shell of who she wanted me to be?

  Love makes you vulnerable.

  Pop’s words echo through my mind. I wonder if he only realized that after he lost Mom. But after everything with Adri, her father, I see it clearly.

  I pull off my ring, shove it in my pocket, and head inside. There’s a moment of relief when I don’t recognize anyone at the desk. I book a corner suite on the top floor indefinitely, order up a bottle of Tanqueray, then sit at the desk in the window looking out over my city sprawled below and clean my Glock.

  Tomorrow, it starts.

  Chapter 24

  Adri

  I was going to call in sick today. The thought of facing Sherm, and therefore Rob, was just too painful. But the school board is still deciding on whether I get to keep this job. It’s between me and an English teacher at the high school.

  So I’m here, watching out my window for him.

  But the car that pulls up to drop Sherm off isn’t a blue Lumina. It’s his sister’s Beetle. I can’t even describe the feeling as she walks him up the sidewalk. It’s everything at once. Disappointment and relief, anger and regret, sorrow and chagrin.

  I’m furious with Rob for treating me the way he did. But I’m also furious with myself for not telling him. I was embarrassed. I was afraid if he knew how inexperienced I was, he’d think of me differently. I liked the hungry way he looked at me. I liked the way his desire made me feel sexy and dangerous—words I never in my wildest dreams thought would describe me. I loved the way his touch brought me alive in a way I’d never been before. I knew he wasn’t new at this, and I didn’t want him to change his mind about being with me. So I manipulated him.

  And now I need to make it right, because what I said to Dad is true. I’ve only known him for two and a half months, but I know beyond any doubt that I’m in love with him. I can’t leave it like this. We have to talk this out.

  Lee slips through the door with Sherm, and instantly, I know something’s wrong. The few times I’ve seen her, she’s been so put together: designer clothes, makeup just so, hair tidy. Today she’s in a wrinkled flannel sleep shirt over old jeans and fuzzy slippers, with what looks like yesterday’s makeup smudged on her face.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, threads of panic twisting through my insides.

  She rubs her red eyes. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  I look at Sherm and know from the dark circles and pale skin that he didn’t sleep well last night. Those threads of panic grab hold of my stomach and yank, and I feel suddenly sick.

  “You’re sure? Because if there’s anything I can do to help …” I trail off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence.

  Lee swallows, her face twisting. “Rob left unexpectedly. We’re all just a little shocked.”

  But I can tell from her eyes that it’s more than that.

  “Is he okay?” It’s out of my mouth before I even think. I’m able to contain my next thought, which is, Is he coming back?

  She shakes her head, and panic gets a firm grip on my heart when a tear slips over her lashes. But she wipes it away quickly with a glance at Sherm. “Can we talk for a second?”

  “Sure.” I look at Sherm. “Do you have some reading?”

  He’s made so much progress, but today it’s like day one again. The fear in his eyes is back. Rob said Sherm saw him kill that man, which would explain his fear of his older brother, but this is something different, because now, that fear is laced with guilt.

  I still don’t have the details of what happened. I don’t know why someone was threatening the family, whether it was a mugging or something else. I just know, what Rob did, he did to protect his family. I hope Sherm doesn’t think he drove Rob away.

  Because I’m afraid that might have been me.

  I grasp his shoulder. “I’ll be right outside the door with your sister, okay?”

  He nods again.

  Lee and I step outside.

  “What can I do?” I ask.

  “Just … I was going to keep Sherm home today, but …” She trails off as another tear spills over. “He’s stopped talking again, and Rob—” Her voice chokes off on a sob.

  “Where did he go?” I ask, my insides twisted so tight I can barely breathe.

  She swallows. “When he hadn’t come home from an assignment up in Tampa by last night, I called his employer. She said the driver he was with in Tampa with told her he got on a plane to Chicago.”

  “What’s in Chicago?” My heart, pounding in my throat, makes the words thick.

  Her vacant gaze sharpens, and her hazel eyes become darker as more tears well. “I’ll try to be here for Sherm at two thirty, but if I’m a little late, can you stay with him?”

  “I can stay as long as you need me to. Or if you need me to bring him home for you, I could do that too.” I can’t breathe, remembering everything that happened last time I was at their house. There has to be more to why he left. What happened between us was bad … and got worse when Dad showed up, but it couldn’t have been enough to drive him away from his family. “Do you still have my number?”

  She nods. “It’s in my cell.”

  “Just call me if you need me to bring Sherm home. And if there’s anything else I can do …”

  “Thank you,” she says, heading down the walk. I watch her Beetle disappear up the road, then go back into class.

  The rest of the day, I can’t take my eyes off Sherm. And I can’t think. What if Rob’s gone for good? And the way Lee seemed … like he was in danger …

  He killed a man. For the first time it occurs to me it might not have been random.

  It’s like they didn’t exist, which means they’re running from something, Adri. Probably criminal activity.

  What if what Dad said that night at the dinner table i
s true? What if someone is really trying to hurt Rob and his family because of something they’re involved in?

  By the time the bell rings for dismissal, I’m convinced I’m right. It explains all the odd behavior when they first arrived, why Rob might have to kill someone to protect his family, and why he’s been so secretive.

  The other students scatter and Sherm moves to the window, looking toward the parking lot for Lee.

  I pull a chair up next to mine at my desk. “Come over here, Sherm. I want to show you something.”

  He turns and looks at me, then makes his way tentatively to my desk.

  I type shark anatomy into the search box on my computer and pull up the website I found last week. “Check this out.”

  Sherm scoots closer and looks at the computer as a shark swims across the screen. The narration for the program starts, and Sherm and I go through the interactive steps of deconstructing a shark until all that’s left is a cartilaginous skeleton.

  He seems to forget his anxiety for a few moments, and I’m glad for that.

  Lee calls to say she’s on her way while we’re putting the shark back together, and we’re almost done when she comes through the door. I stand and know just from looking at her, more frazzled that she was this morning, things aren’t good.

  “Finish him up, Sherm, and I’ll be right back,” I say, moving swiftly toward his sister. “We need to talk.”

  Lee looks over her shoulder at Sherm as she follows me outside. “Is Sherm okay?”

  “He’s fine. He hasn’t spoken today, but he seems to have relaxed a little being in the classroom. So tell me, what has him so upset?”

  Anger and frustration flare in her gaze as it shifts to me. “His brother left. We’re all upset.”

  “It’s more than that,” I press, panic making me bold. “You’re worried because Rob went to Chicago. Why?”

  Her stance grows defensive and she turns for the door. “We’re leaving.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I say, holding the knob.

  “It’s none of your business. You’re Sherm’s teacher. That’s all.”

  She looks like she wants to punch me, but I don’t back down.

  “That’s not all,” I say, bracing myself. “Rob and I are … involved. I know some horrible things have happened to your family. He killed someone. Does that have anything to do with why he left?”

  Her mouth drops open and her eyes pull round as dinner plates. “He told you that?”

  I nod, feeling tears press at the backs of my eyes. I swallow them. “I don’t need to know details. I just need to know if he’s in danger.”

  Her expression transitions from incensed to grief-stricken, and those tears I’ve been trying to swallow well in my eyes as hers spill over. She presses a shaking hand over her face and her voice is small as she says, “If they find him there, they’ll kill him.”

  She may as well have reached down my throat and ripped my heart out. The hole her words left in my chest is gaping. I can’t breathe. “Can you call him? Tell him to come home?”

  “I’ve tried. He won’t pick up.”

  “Can you go after him?”

  She shakes her head with a mournful look at my classroom door. “Not without risking the rest of the family.”

  “The police?” I ask with a cringe.

  She just looks at me.

  It comes to me out of nowhere, but the instant I think it, I say it. “I’ll go.”

  Her eyes light, but then despair snuffs it out. “I wouldn’t even know where to look for him. He wouldn’t go to the house or the cottage at the lake.”

  “A hotel? Is there one he might pick?”

  She shakes her head as more tears run down her cheeks. But then her eyes clear and she looks at me. “The Bienville. Our family owns it. Mom was killed there.”

  “Would he go back there?”

  She nods. “He does that sometimes … just goes to look at the spot. It would be risky for him to stay there, but … I can’t think of anywhere else to look.”

  The hole where my heart used to be grows larger and starts sucking the rest of my vital organs into it. I move away from the door. “If he’s not back by the weekend, I am going to Chicago.”

  “That will be too late.” She bites her lips between her teeth as she wipes her face with trembling fingers. “I can’t believe he told you.”

  “We’re …” I want to say together, or close, or in love, but how things were left between us, none of those seem to fit. “… involved,” I say again.

  “My brother doesn’t open up to anyone. Ever. I think you’re more than ‘involved,’” she says, making air quotes.

  I stare after her as she steps into the room and collects her little brother. When they’re gone, I sit down at my computer and type in Bienville Chicago.

  I dial the number and spin my chair to face the window. When the hotel operator picks up, I ask, “Can you please connect me to Robert Davidson’s room?”

  There’s a pause. “I don’t see a Robert Davidson in our registration. Could it be under a different name?”

  It could be under any other name. He’s probably not even there.

  But if I don’t go and something happens to him, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

  “Thank you.” I hang up and just stare at the phone before going back to the computer and searching airfares to Chicago. I find a flight from Tampa at six with one seat left. I book it and close down the computer, then call the school office and leave a message that I’m going to be out for the rest of the week.

  Dad will be harder.

  I sweep into the house, thanking God that he’s not home yet, and head straight to my room. I grab a few clean pairs of underwear, some jeans, and a few tops and shove everything into a bag. When I come out, I tear a slip of paper off the pad near the phone and start on a note. I know it’s a cop-out, I should go by the station and tell him what I’m doing, but I don’t have the time or energy to get into it with him right now. It’s hard enough that my heart feels like it’s been raked over a hot bed of coals and buried in the backyard after what happened with Rob. I cried most of the weekend, missing Mom more than I have in a while. I need her strong shoulder right now. Minus that, I need my dad.

  But things between us have been totally awkward since he found me at Rob’s two days ago. It feels like the first months after Mom died.

  After her funeral, it took me a few weeks to tie up everything and move home for good. Daddy was wrecked. He took an extended leave from the department, leaving Sergeant Dixon in charge, and he only came out of his room for an occasional meal and shower. He kept his eyes down and wouldn’t look at me most of the time, but when he did, the pain in his gaze was almost palpable. It took me a while to figure out how hard it was on him that I look just like Mom.

  All day yesterday, his eyes followed me everywhere, as if he was hoping that my actions would somehow answer the questions he’s afraid to ask, but he never looked at me. He’s totally ashamed.

  So I lie.

  I tell him I’m staying at Chuck’s because I need some space to think.

  I race to my car and drive toward the airport as fast as I dare, dialing Chuck when I hit the highway.

  “I need a favor,” I say when he picks up.

  “Name it,” he shoots.

  “If Dad calls, I need to you to tell him I’m there, but I’m sleeping.”

  “What’s going on, Ade?” he asks, his tone all brotherly concern.

  I blow out a breath and it bellows in my ear through the phone. “I just really need you to do this for me. Please.”

  “Is it something to do with Batman? Because if he’s messing with you, I’ll be messing with him.”

  “It’s … I just need to go away for a few days.”

  There’s a long pause. “Name something else, Ade, because I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

  Desperation gets a chokehold on me and I can barely speak. “Please, Chuck.�
�

  “He hasn’t hurt you?”

  The menace in his voice doesn’t surprise me, but it squeezes tears into my eyes. Because he has. What he said on Saturday cut deeper than I ever could have imagined, but if I tell Chuck that, all bets are off. “No.”

  “Where are you going?” he asks warily.

  “Chuck …” The tight lump in my throat makes the plea thick.

  “You know I’ll do anything for you, but if there’s something wrong, I need you to tell me.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just need a few days. Promise me, Chuck. If Dad calls, promise me you’ll cover for me.”

  I can almost hear him thinking through the airwaves. I’ve never asked him for anything like this before.

  “Okay,” he finally says, “but if I find out later that he’s done something that’s hurt you or put you in danger, he’ll wish he was never born.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  I make it to Tampa with a few minutes to spare and head into the terminal. An hour later, I’m in the air on my way to save the love of my life, even if he doesn’t want me to.

  *

  In the movies, big-city taxi drivers always drive like wild men, swerving between cars and going faster than is safe, but I swear mine is going ten miles below the speed limit all the way from the airport. I want to shove him over and drive myself.

  Another thing in the movies is that the person doing the crazy thing to save the one they love always makes it just in the nick of time. I hope that part holds. My insides are a quivering mess, and my outsides are barely holding it together. If anything’s happened to Rob, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  I keep trying to imagine a scenario in which coming back to a city where people might want you dead is the right decision. So far, I haven’t come up with any.

  “God, please let him be okay,” I whisper. I haven’t seriously prayed since Mom died. We went to church every Sunday as a family the whole time I was growing up. She never missed, no matter what. But she died all alone in the middle of a lonely road anyway. I guess I just stopped believing after that.

  The driver flashes a glance at me in the rearview mirror. Trying to decide if I’m insane, I’m sure. I probably am.