“Look, you knew Duke, right? Wade’s driver?”
“Met him a couple of times. Before he crashed the limo.”
“That’s just it, Liam. It was Wade who crashed the limo. He told Duke to take the rap and he’d pay him a million dollars. Well, Duke did his time, and of course Wade blew him off. I can’t let that happen, and I need you to help me.”
I take out the check, written in Levon’s name, for one million.
Liam looks shocked.
“C’mon, we all know Wade is capable of this.”
A wave of sickness curls through my stomach, knowing I’m related to him. Was Rena right about blood not mattering?
“I need you to get Wade to sign this. He listens to you.”
Liam runs a hand through the receding hair that falls to his shoulders. Inside all of the hard wear and tear is a nervous little boy who knows I’m right.
“What’s going on here?” Wade is standing in the hallway, a towel around his neck like a rock-and-roll prizefighter.
I take out the check again and hold up the half-naked-girl pen.
Liam motions for Wade to sign it, but before he can, three cops come up from behind. For a second, I think they’re coming for me, for what happened with Jamal, but then I remember Marissa’s text. It was only a matter of time—and in this case, no time at all. One of the cops says, “Wade Rex?”
I point to my father.
“You have the right to remain silent…”
They cuff him and take him away, all while he stares at me. For a second, and only a second, I think about stopping them, but it’s too late.
I clutch the unsigned check in my hand.
“I hope you enjoyed that show,” I say under my breath. “’Cause it may have been your last.”
Chapter 31
I push open the back door and start running through the alley as fast as I can. By the time I get to the truck, I’m panting, about to pass out. But Levon’s not there.
Then I hear a voice behind me.
“Easy, killer.”
It’s Levon, holding a cup of coffee and smiling.
“You’re OK?”
“Yeah.” He’s still got residue from the duct tape on his cheek. I use the sleeve of my hoodie to get it off.
After we get in the truck, I turn and show him the unsigned check.
“I was so close, Levon. But they arrested him. Turns out Colin Price works fast.”
“Fuck.” His face falls.
“But we’ll figure it out.”
We look at each other, realizing that getting a million dollars was probably not likely in the first place.
“Mom gave me five hundred in cash. Let’s stay in a nice hotel tonight.”
“OK,” he says.
We choose the Raleigh, an old-school art deco place where the pool is shaped like a giant lily and looks like something out of a Busby Berkeley film. The valet with the vintage cap gives our pickup truck a once-over.
The suites are all booked, but we get a room on the seventh floor on the ocean side. The interior is art deco classy, done in pale pinks and cream. There are fresh flowers and a deep soaking tub. Behind the floor-to-ceiling glass is a white balcony, and beyond that, a study in blue, shade after shade blending into one another. It’s a far cry from the dumps we’ve been staying in. We order room service and watch The Godfather On Demand. I think back to when I first quoted the film and Levon couldn’t believe it. It seems like a lifetime ago. I try not to think about what happens next. Going back to school? Going to sleep without the sound of Levon’s soft snore?
The food is amazing—crispy calamari and fancy salads, grilled fish and risotto, and some cheese I can’t pronounce.
When the movie ends, Levon gets up to go to the bathroom, and as we pass each other, he hugs me—a little more tightly than expected—and I wish time would stop. I want to stay there forever, his strong arms around me, the credits rolling.
“You’ll get your money,” I tell him.
“It’s cool, even if I don’t. At least he’s going to pay for what he did.”
“And what about Jamal?”
“Well, they’re gonna find me eventually. If he died in the hospital, I’ll tell them I saw it, that it was self-defense.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“What else would you do for me?”
He kisses me hard, and we fall onto the bed. He explores my body, running his lips down my sternum, kissing my hips. It is way better than our wheat-field moment. In the field we were urgent, almost desperate. Now we are slow and sweet, almost dreamlike.
We fall asleep spooning. I dream that we are driving in a convertible by the sea, and the wind is in our hair. He is smiling, laughing, and we’re having a blast. The sun shines into the car. But when I move in to kiss him, the car sails off the edge, Thelma and Louise style.
When I wake up, I’m sweating. Levon is already up, presumably getting coffee. I rinse off in the shower and walk out onto the terrace and look at the Atlantic. A kiteboarder is jumping the waves, catching serious air. The hotel workers are putting out the beds and the chaise longues and planting the umbrellas. Levon comes to the door in shorts and a T-shirt, coffee in hand. It is a different feeling, looking at him this way. He’s the definition of sexy guy, while Billy Ray is just a cute boy. Where does that leave me? Girl, woman, somewhere in between? What about this Leeza girl? I have to believe she doesn’t mean that much to him, based on what happened last night.
Levon lets me borrow the old laptop he got from the trailer to download the footage from my handheld. He’s got an old version of iMovie, but I know how to navigate it. While he goes for a swim, I start to assemble a little movie. I decide to give it a Vine feel, a bunch of tiny clips strung together. The first shot is of the trees in Massachusetts, naked branches outside the car window. Then my first confession, which he actually didn’t erase, followed by the Tappan Zee Bridge, its spires jutting out of the cold, shiny river. Various motel people and the shots of Levon he didn’t know I took: his torso washed in the light of the TV, his hair blowing in and out of his eyes, his muscled arms contracting as he gripped the wheel, his firm backside walking into the Comfort Inn lobby.
There are some close-ups of stains on motel bathroom walls, paper cups of whiskey, and a weathered bible. There is only one other shot of me, from below. I must have had the camera on without knowing it. I’m looking out the window and Levon is talking. It’s night, and the streetlights flash the car periodically, like an urban heartbeat. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but a smile pokes at the corner of my mouth.
As the shots go on, there’s more daylight and everything becomes bright white and blue—the sky, the clouds, the sea, and the sand. There are pastel buildings and the burst of green from a palm tree, but they’re all in the foreground of the blue and white. There’s Marissa in her feigned elegance, and the crumpled sheets and the empty pint of whiskey in Levon’s trailer. The last shot is of Levon’s grandmother sitting on her bed. She tilts her head a little, seemingly content.
As the film is rendering, I walk onto the balcony. There are more people out, and a group of birds circle an upended trash can. A few minutes later, Levon comes back and says, “How’s it going, Scorsese?”
The small hotel towel barely covers his lean waist, and his arms still gleam with seawater.
“Tarantino, more like it. I used a song you had in your library, some band called Elbow.”
“Ah. That’s my dad’s favorite band.”
I play the movie, and it comes out pretty good for an amateur road-trip, day-in-the-life thing. The song works really well, almost like the images are explaining the lyrics:
I come back here from time to time.
I shelter here some days.
At the end, Levon turns and looks at me with hi
s spotlight eyes and kisses me. Then he walks to the edge of the balcony.
I move up behind him so that I’m only inches away. I can see the tiny pulse in his neck and smell the sea mixed with fancy soap. I put my arms slowly and carefully around his torso, bend my face in profile against his strong back, and hold on.
Chapter 32
The story is everywhere. Blowing up on Twitter, TMZ, blogs, and newspapers. Wade Rex is being charged with vehicular manslaughter from the reopened case two years ago. The rest of the Black Angels’ tour will be canceled.
My father’s going to jail.
I can’t believe our plan worked, but part of me feels a pang of shame. What if he gets hurt or raped? What if blood does matter? What if Levon and his dad never get the money they deserve?
I hold the purple section of USA Today up for Levon to see the giant headline: Rock Star Hit-and-Run Resurfaces.
“We did it, Levon. We did it!”
“So it’s official, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s on, like, every news channel. So what now?”
“Well, I talked to Billy Ray,” he says.
The balloon of elation I am feeling gets immediately punctured.
“What?”
He puts on his serious face, his eyes glazing over a little.
“He called earlier, right before our phone died for good. When you were taking a shower. Your grandmother’s in the hospital. She’s stable, but he bought you a ticket from Miami to Oakland. You leave in a few hours.”
Something in his tone sets me off.
“Oh, now you’re going to play responsible adult?”
He turns his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Well, what do you want to happen, Candy? Why don’t you tell me that.”
“I don’t know. It just sucks all this has to end.”
“Candy, I know it was an adventure for you, and it was for me too, but it was also a way for me to get a life. And to help my dad.”
“So I’m not a part of it anymore? You’re just going to erase me like my father did? That’s cool. I’m used to it.”
I can’t even stand in front of him right now. I want to throw something or scream, but instead I walk into the hallway and down the stairs, slowly and methodically. In the lobby, I ask the concierge if I can use their phone. He sets me up at my own desk and tells me to press nine to get an outside line. I know it’s weird that I know Fin’s number by heart, but I do. He answers on the fifth ring.
“I did it, Fin. We did it. I put my own father in jail.”
“Candy, wow. It’s nice to hear your voice.”
I fill him in on everything, including the fact that Levon is starting to break my heart.
“Wait a second, you fell for this guy?”
“Beyond. The other guy he was with was mean and violent, but Levon is sweet and protective. We bonded. It’s hard to explain.”
“Well, as long as he’s good to you.”
“He is—he was. I love him, Fin. And he’s acting like it’s all over now, that I just have to leave. I mean, Rena’s in the hospital so I know I have to go but still. God, I feel so stupid right now. I just stormed out of our room.”
“Candy, you’re too smart to pull that. I get it’s been tough for you. It’s tough for a lot of people. But you have an edge over most people in the world ’cause you’re smart, really smart. This might seem like the end of the world or whatever, but it’s only the beginning. You can really do something with your life.”
“Like be a filmmaker?”
“Of course! Now go up there and be adult about it. Let things marinate.”
“Did you just say marinate?”
Fin laughs. “Yes, and I don’t think I’ve ever used that word before.”
“Unless you were talking about steaks.”
He laughs again. “Anyway…if it’s meant to be, he’ll come around. Sometimes our relationships are like braids. They come apart and then back together again.”
I listen to him breathing. I realize in that instant that Fin’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever known.
“Yeah, well, sometimes it sucks being young, you know?”
“Ha! It sucks being old too.”
I know that Fin doesn’t have it so great. He has no money, and there’s something dark about his past, but he loves fishing and his dog. Simple things. Is that what Levon wants? A movie theater and a dog? What about me?
“Well, I’ll see you when the semester starts.”
“Yes, I hope so. No more kidnappings, OK?”
“OK.”
I say good-bye and take the elevator back upstairs. When I get to the room, Levon is at the window, watching the ocean. He turns and opens his arms. I walk into them. We hug, but it doesn’t feel the same.
When we break apart, he says, “Listen, you helped me, Candy. And even though it was scary and a little crazy, you made it fun. But this, we…”
“Like a meteor, right? Shines a light, then it’s gone?”
He sighs.
“Is it Leeza?”
“No. Well, I don’t know…”
I look at him, his face stern but with that undeniable boyishness, but something is missing. How could I have been so wrong? It wasn’t just me; there was a two-way current. It was electric. Last night in the middle of the night, when he turned and pulled me close, the heat of his skin, his lips on my neck. How could he deny that? Now, he looks like he’s trying to grab at some rope that’s not strong enough to hold him up.
“Candy, don’t think I’m not going to miss you.”
“I know I’m going to miss you.”
The maid comes in to clean the room, not knowing we are there. When she sees us, she bows and turns, heading back out the door.
“Hey, let me take you to my favorite place,” Levon says. “Before we go to the airport.”
I stand up and force a smile.
“OK.”
As we start to get our stuff together, I confess to having second thoughts about my father being in jail.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Candy, I’m sure they’ll make some deal to shorten his time. He’s a celebrity.”
It physically hurts to pack up my stuff for the last time. Why can’t Levon skip the airport, and we just drive on to another motel that could be the seediest of all—and it wouldn’t matter?
You’re never close to someone until you’ve run from the cops together.
I consider telling him this as he drives us through midtown, then another ten miles west of the city. Eventually we pull into a massive graveyard of cars, covering at least two square miles. Some of the cars are stacked five high, their old, broken bodies collapsing into one another. We park, then get out and sneak under a bent-up part of the fence. For a minute, it feels like Fin is right—the adventure is only beginning. We walk down the one path in the center, gazing at the rust, the scraps of metal, the shredded tires, and the mangled license plates.
“Strangely beautiful,” I say.
Levon gets that playful look—when the worry and edge evaporates from his face, and what is left is simple, pure happiness. “Beautifully strange.”
I take his hand and lean on him a little as we walk all the way to the other end where there’s a small hill.
Don’t go away from me.
We sit on top of the hill and look back on the sea of ruined cars, once shiny and purring like animals, once smelling like sex and leather and gasoline. Now crippled beyond return.
“How many babies were made in these cars, you think?”
Levon lets out his bark-laugh. “A lot.”
On our way back, we stop and sit on the hood of an old Cadillac that was probably red at one time but is now weathered to brown.
“Well, maybe we can meet up somewhere,” I say, but t
he words sound weak coming out of my mouth.
“Yeah, I’ll probably stick around here awhile to make sure my father’s cool. And Gram too.”
“She seemed really happy to see you. She didn’t show it, but you knew what she was thinking.”
He smiles and shakes the hair out of his eyes. A gesture I could never ever get tired of watching. It starts to rain a little so we head back to the truck. We drive to the airport in silence and park. Inside the terminal, I go up to the counter and get my boarding pass. While Levon goes to the bathroom, I look around: a mother scolds her child, an obese guy nods off, and a girl puts on makeup while her boyfriend plays a video game. Levon comes back and asks me if I have someone to pick me up on the other end.
“I can take a bus or whatever.”
I try to talk like everything is normal, like I’m not collapsing inside, like my heart isn’t shattering right in front of him.
“Oh, that reminds me.”
He hands me a twenty-dollar bill, and I actually laugh.
“Story of my life. All money, no love.”
“Stop.”
I can’t look at him anymore. If I look, it will be like free falling.
He reaches into his bag and pulls out Mortimer and Randolph, which he must have grabbed from the dash of the truck. He holds them both in front of me.
“We’ll each keep one,” he says. “Do you want the frog or the alligator?”
“Definitely the frog, ’cause I’m foolish.”
He hugs me, and I know this is it. This is where I walk away.
But I don’t let go.
And neither does he.
Why is everything telling me we are still meant to be? Why am I about to leave him without even a plan to see him again?
We break apart, and I look into his eyes.
“I’m so glad you kid—”
“Shh.”
“When will I see you again?”
My voice is thin, shaky. I’m the girl who is about to walk away, leaving the only person that I’ve ever felt like myself around.
Stealing Candy Page 15
