A Five-Minute Life

by Emma Scott

I sat up, blinking. “What…?”

  “Hurry,” she said, grabbing the backpack I’d bought on our mall excursion. “Shit, I’m going to be so fired for this.”

  I watched, slack-jawed, as Rita pulled the Hazarin pill bottle from her front pocket.

  “I was tired,” she said. “Had a bad night. Instead of bringing you one dose, I grabbed the entire bottle without thinking and you swiped it. Okay? That’s our story. It might not be enough to save my job, but it’s worth a shot.”

  Hope flared like an inferno, but I tamped it down. “No, Rita. I don’t want you to get fired.”

  “I don’t either,” she said with a rueful laugh. “But I have a lifetime to remember the choices I made. And you only have right now.”

  I flew off the bed and hugged her tight. “Oh my God. Are you sure?”

  “I didn’t sleep at all last night, thinking of what you said. That part of my alibi is true.”

  She gave me a motherly pat on the cheek, though she wasn’t quite old enough to be my mother.

  She’s the sister I never had.

  The thought felt ugly and unfair. Delia was doing her best. It’s all anyone could do.

  Rita pressed the bottle in my hand. “It’s got thirty pills after you take today’s dose. One month and then you have to come back. I don’t know what will happen when you do…”

  “I don’t either, but right now, I don’t care.”

  I swallowed that morning’s pill dry and stuffed the bottle at the bottom of my backpack. While Rita dug through my clothes for the essentials, I got dressed and hit the bathroom, grabbing toiletries and makeup, plus the birth control pills they had me take to keep track of my periods because I hadn’t been able to do it myself.

  Jimmy flitted into my thoughts at what else the pills meant, but I pushed him out.

  “Take my number,” Rita said. “Let me know how you are. Do you want Jim’s?”

  “I don’t know. Not yet. I need to get out of here first and then sort out how I feel about him.”

  Rita nodded. “You’re going to New York?”

  “Hell, yes. There’s a Greyhound bus ticket out there somewhere with my name on it.”

  She quirked a funny smile, but it vanished quickly. “Ready? Okay. Shit. Here we go.”

  “We?”

  “We have to get past Jules at the front desk and then I’m going to smuggle you out in my car. Tell the outpost security I need to run home for my phone or something.”

  “No way,” I said. “That, plus the missing meds? You’ll be busted for sure.”

  “How do you plan to get past them?”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said. I gave her a peck on the cheek and a hug. “Love you. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Rita hugged me tight. “Be careful. Please. If you start to feel fuzzy or disoriented in any way, you call me. Or get to an ER. Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  We crept down the silent hallway together, every creak of the floorboards like a siren. We stopped in the stairwell on the first floor.

  “Jules will go on her first smoke break any minute now,” Rita whispered. “She usually goes out the side door that leads to the parking lot.”

  I made a face. “I’m well aware.”

  “That means you’ll have to walk out the front door.”

  That’s exactly how I should leave here. Waltzing right out the front door.

  I huffed a breath. “Okay, here goes.”

  Rita gave me a final squeeze. “Good luck.”

  Her footsteps faded away up the stairwell, then I was on my own.

  I watched through the little window in the door between the hall and foyer, ready to dive into the broom closet if someone came along. Thankfully, Jules slipped out for a smoke break after only a few minutes. I waited twenty seconds then crossed the foyer, passing the pretty oil painting—a bunch of fruit. I opened the door on the brand-new Virginia morning.

  Holy shit, I did it.

  I kept to the side of the road that led down to the security checkpoint, glancing over my shoulder now and then to make sure Jules was still around the corner and out of sight and not ready to jump out and yell “Gotcha!” for the second time.

  The road curved and the checkpoint outpost came into view; I ducked behind a tree.

  Now what?

  The security wasn’t too tight—except for me, the residents were there voluntarily. But unlike the parking lot, the fence here in the forest had barbed wire coils along the top. It became a solid brick wall on either side of the road at the checkpoint. Red and white striped boom barriers kept traffic from coming or going unless raised by the security guard. The forest was cleared for a good ten yards on either side of the road, and more fencing buffered it all the way down the hill. Even if I managed to sneak past the guard, I’d be a sitting duck.

  I gnawed my lip, half-wishing I had taken Rita up on her smuggling plan. Waltzing out the front door was the easy part.

  A plan of my own popped into my head then: keep waltzing. Hide in plain sight.

  Not a great one, I admitted, but the only one I had. I popped a piece of bubblegum into my mouth, put on my sunglasses and crouched low. My heart pounded in my chest and I prayed the guard was tired this morning. Dozing. Maybe reading a paper.

  Moving as fast as I could while crouched over, I dashed toward the outpost and flattened myself against its left side. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to hear the door open and the guy bust out to grab me.

  Nothing. Only the tinny sound of a small TV. The View.

  That show is still on? I thought those gals would’ve killed each other by now.

  Breath held, I scooted along the edge of the checkpoint and peered over the window. The guard had his back to me, feet kicked up on the desk, absorbed in the show.

  Let’s do this.

  I ducked under the boom barrier, crept along the brick wall, then simply turned around and walked right back up to the outpost. Casual as fuck, as if I’d been strolling up the road this entire time.

  Toward a sanitarium. At seven in the morning. As one does.

  The guard did a double-take to see me, his eyes widening, and his feet dropped to the ground.

  “Hi,” I said, snapping my gum.

  “How did…?” The guard looked all around, over his shoulder and then back to me. “Can I help you, miss?”

  “Maybe,” I said with a flirty smile. I folded my arms on the window, pushing my breasts up.

  Hell, it worked for Erin Brockovich.

  “I think I’m lost,” I said. “I’m in town for the Celebrity Rabies Fun Run Race for the Cure? They said it was supposed to start around here.”

  I held my breath. If this guy was a super-fan of The Office I was toast, but it was all my brain could come up with on the fly.

  The guard squinted. “The what?”

  “Haven’t heard of it? Bummer. Wi-Fi up here is shitty. My GPS must’ve sent me the wrong way.”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It’s a long wrong way up this hill.”

  Slow down. Be cool. Act natural.

  “You’re telling me.” I smiled bigger, leaned closer. “What is this place, anyway?”

  “Blue Ridge Sanitarium,” he said. “Brain injury cases.”

  I widened my eyes and lowered my sunglasses to show him I had nothing to hide. “No shit?”

  He nodded, and his glance went longingly back to his TV. Immune to my charms. And, apparently, my boobs.

  “No shit,” he muttered. “Hope you find your fun run.”

  “Me too.” I blew a bubble and let it pop. “Have a good one.”

  I patted the window frame in parting, turned, and sauntered down the winding road as fast as I could without looking like I was trying to hurry. When the curve took me out of sight of the outpost, I ran like hell. Any second, the security guard was going to wonder who in their right mind did a fun run for rabies.

  Michael Scott, that’s who…

  A relieved laugh burst out of m
e and morphed into a gasp as I rounded the last bend in the road and came to where the sanitarium drive met the main road. I stopped short, staring.

  Jimmy leaned against the driver’s side door of an old green pickup truck, mind-blowingly handsome in his leather jacket, jeans, and boots. His hair was slick with a morning shower. He nervously checked his phone then glanced around. His arms fell slack when he saw me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He pushed off the door. “I heard you needed a ride to New York.”

  I stared, happiness exploding across my heart. “I thought you left me.”

  “And I told you I’d never give up on you.”

  Tears threatened, and I crossed my arms, refusing to turn into a complete puddle at his feet.

  “How did you know I’d be making my escape this morning?

  “Rita texted me her plan last night. She didn’t tell you?”

  “She failed to mention it.” My cheeks warmed. “I guess she wanted it to be a surprise.”

  He smiled one of his rare smiles. “I hope it was a good one.”

  “The best.” I tore my gaze from him and looked at the pickup truck behind him. “Where’s your motorcycle?”

  “I traded it. I didn’t like the idea of driving from here to Manhattan with you on the back. If you had a seizure—”

  “I’m not having seizures, Jimmy,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I’m not taking any chances. Besides, if you were behind me the entire time, I wouldn’t be able to…”

  “To what?” I asked, moving closer. “See me?”

  “Talk to you.”

  His words sank into my heart, better than any compliment. The ultimate compliment from Jim Whelan.

  “God, this is so much better than my Greyhound bus plan,” I said. “But I can’t ask you to—”

  “You don’t need to ask. I’m here.”

  My eyes stung at his quiet humility. I didn’t know how to thank him for everything he’d done for me. I knew I’d burst into tears if I even tried. I glanced around, blinking hard, struggling to find something to say.

  “You sold your motorcycle for me?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Right after you were fired?”

  He nodded.

  “You lost your job because of me, so you traded your beloved motorcycle for this truck?”

  The truck was old with a dented fender and scratches in the paint, which meant Jim took a loss on his bike, probably in order to sell it fast.

  “I was fired because I broke the rules,” he said. “But yes to everything else.”

  I threw my arms around him. He held me close, my feet dangling off the ground, and my body reacted instantly. Every part of me wanted every part of him.

  He’s it. He’s what I want. In every way.

  “Thank you,” I whispered against his neck, which was wet with my tears. “I should say it a hundred times…”

  “Don’t,” he said into my hair. “You don’t have to.”

  I slid down the length of his body until my feet touched the ground but left my hands around his neck. I brought one to his cheek, my thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.

  “Jimmy…”

  He stiffened in my arms.

  “What’s wrong?” I sniffed a laugh. “You don’t want to kiss me anymore? Granted, I’m a little snotty right now, but that’s your fault.”

  “I… That’s not what this trip is about. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Owe you? I—”

  “Hold up.”

  His glance darted over my head, eyes widening at the road leading up to Blue Ridge. As I turned to where he was looking, I heard the slow crunch of tires on gravel.

  I looked at Jimmy. “Oh shit.”

  He stared back. “Oh shit is right.” He yanked the passenger door open for me. “Get in. Get down.”

  I crouched on the floor of the cab as he raced to the other side of the truck and jumped in. A pleasant panic bloomed in my gut, like the feeling you get right before a roller coaster drops. My stomach sent flutters up to my heart, adding to the adrenaline rush that was already coursing through my veins.

  Jim scooted down below window-level and we listened, our breaths held, as the security car slowly rolled past. When it grew fainter, he ventured a peek and then I watched him follow the vehicle down the road.

  “Gone,” he said. “I don’t think they know you’ve escaped yet, or we’d be screwed.” He laughed at me, curled on the floor of the cab. “You ready?”

  I gave him a thumbs-up. “Born ready.”

  I buckled myself into the passenger seat while Jim stripped out of his jacket and tossed it in the small space behind our seats, then fired the ignition. He filled the truck with the scent of denim and his clean, unfussy cologne. I leaned back in my seat and just drank him in.

  Jimmy’s large hands gripped the wheel as he drove. His forearms were perfection, and my fingers itched to run them along the striations of his muscles under that tanned skin. My eyes blazed a path up to his bicep that strained the short sleeve of his black T-shirt. Up, up, to the corded muscles of his neck, to his strong jaw brushed with stubble.

  He’s like a shot of booze, or a drug that feels too good to be legal.

  I welcomed the lust. The slow roll of want shuddering through my entire body made me feel alive. I hadn’t felt it in years and never this powerful. Never.

  Jimmy drove with confident precision, taking me wherever I wanted to go. He’d given me so much and never asked for a thing in return, and there was no place on earth I’d rather be than with him.

  Part III

  Chapter 27

  Thea

  “It’s a seven-hour drive,” Jimmy said. “I figure if we push straight through, only stopping for lunch and gas, we’ll get you there fast. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  The adrenaline rush from nearly getting caught faded, leaving me a pleasant buzz of happiness. Blue Ridge couldn’t stop me, but they could make things difficult if they got the police involved. But I was out in the world. The green of Virginia in summer outside our rolled-down windows and the wind played in my hair.

  “Music?” Jimmy asked.

  “You read my mind.”

  He picked up his phone from the dash and handed it to me. “The truck’s too old for Bluetooth, but if you put the volume on high…”

  “On it.”

  I scanned through his music.

  “You sure have a lot of dance and techno here for a rock n’ roll guy.”

  “I loaded it up before your procedure,” he said. “For our walks, or while you were painting.”

  “Damn, Jimmy. For a guy who doesn’t talk much, you always say the perfect thing.”

  He kept his eyes on the road, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile.

  I found “We Are Young” by Fun., featuring Janelle Monáe. I hit play.

  “I love this. Janelle is my girl-crush,” I said after a few moments. “But it’s not techno.”

  “I know but I heard it and thought you’d like it.”

  “You were right.”

  I cranked up the volume when the chorus hit. It filled the cab like an anthem of everything I felt in that moment. I was alive, I was free, and I was with the man I wanted to be with more than anyone in the world.

  For the next few hours, Jimmy and I listened to music and talked. About his Grandpa Jack, because it was the only bright spot in his childhood. About my parents, and Jimmy held my hand while I cried for them. As we crossed into Maryland and I peppered him with questions about pop culture in the past two years.

  “Which movie won Best Picture last year?” I asked. “Something with Steve Carell, I hope.”

  “Who?”

  “You’re kidding, right? The brilliant actor who played Michael Scott? The World’s Best Boss. From The Office? The World’s Best TV Show?”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t say. I don’t watch much TV.”

&nb
sp; “Everyone needs The Office in their life,” I said. “Who won the Super Bowl?”

  “This year? The Patriots.”

  “Last year?”

  “The Patriots.”

  “Should’ve guessed,” I said with a laugh. “Who is the president?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  My phone rang. “This can only be one person…” I fished it out of my bag. “Yep.” I hit answer. “Greetings, sister.”

  “Thea, where are you?” Delia crowed in my ear.

  “Honestly, Deel, it’s none of your damn business. Not anymore.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone. It’s not safe. If something happens—”

  “I’m not alone,” I said. I glanced at Jimmy. He nodded. “I’m with He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

  “Of course,” Delia said, her tone bitter with sarcasm. “The orderly. Who else? For God’s sake, Thea…”

  I covered my phone with my hand. “Delia says hi.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “You are toying with your life,” Delia snapped in my ear. “And for what? That man? Did he put you up to this? Of course, he did. He’s been trying to get into your pants for months.”

  “He’s a perfect gentleman, though I’m going to try my hardest to cure him of that.”

  Jimmy coughed, and his ears reddened.

  “Althea Renée Hughes…”

  “No, Delia,” I said. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. If you’re not careful, I’ll end this call and you’ll never hear from me again.”

  “Until you need more Hazarin,” Delia said. “Did Rita Soto give it to you?”

  “I stole it from her. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  “Leave her alone. She’s a good person.”

  “You need to come back, Thea. You have—”

  “Brain damage? I’m not sick, Delia. I’m finally well, and I’m done wasting time.”

  A short silence and I could practically hear her desperate attempt to hold on to control.

  “I’ll have him arrested.”

  I barked a harsh laugh. “For what?”

  “Kidnapping a brain injury patient—”

  “You try to have him arrested and we’re done forever. I swear it.” Frustrated tears stung my eyes. “Don’t do this, Deel. Mom and Dad would hate this.”