Katy and I freeze, looking back and forth in the thick darkness while trying to see who is yelling. I tense, ready to run, but Katy squats down, trying to hide in the shadows. I can't leave her behind so we wait until a second later a big hulking man steps out from the porch, a gun pointed in front of him, moving back and forth between our two heads.He smiles, but it isn't in an evil I-want-to-shoot-you-and-bury-you in-the-front-yard smile. It almost looks as if he's laughing at us. He's caught two teenagers out having a night of fun rather than two criminals gathering evidence."Katy, what are you doing here?" the big guy asks."Nothing."A second voice comes from nowhere until I lean ahead and spot a tall skinny man standing on the end of the wraparound porch. "Bring them inside, Jock."The beast of a man flips his gun in that direction, using it as a big flashing sign. "Mr. Zanetti would like to invite you two to dinner."Katy steps away from the house but makes no move
It's a question I'd like the answer to also, except I'm not sure I understand what the two of them are talking about at the particular moment. Katy said she thought Frankie could be connected to the recent string of drug-related crimes happening in Pelican Bay, but Crispin didn't mention his name. One would think if a man was running a drug ring in the city, he wouldn't be so open about it. Frankie reminds me of someone who came from money. Maybe he inherited a large shipping fortune and was not a mob boss.Although, it's possible that makes him the best at it. Nobody expects him. Except Katy and most of her friends. Is he a dangerous guy like everyone thinks or a red herring so people look the other way?Is Frankie the crime boss, criminal grunt, or not a criminal at all? In that moment, I'm as invested in the case as Katy. I stare at Frankie's dark brown eyes, trying to see past them into his makeup. I struggle to see the genuine nature of his soul, but there's nothing there but
The atmosphere in the room turns serious and I realize I'm metaphorically standing at a crossroads. I can lie, even though it seems as if Crispin already knows the truth, or I can be honest and face the consequences of our actions. First, I consider blaming it on Katy, but in reality, even though I may not have known all of her plan, I still went along with it.With a deep breath and a heavy sigh, I let the contents of the evening out in one big, long run-on sentence. "Katy came and picked me up, we dressed in all black, and then we snuck around to Frankie's house, but he caught us outside the second window before Katy could see anything good." I take a breath and keep going. "And then he invited us inside and his maid — or cook, he never said — made us the most amazing spaghetti with chicken and cheese all cooked together. Delicious. I would have loved the recipe but didn't want to ask."I suck in another large breath, two of them this time, getting ready to finish the story. "And
"It's the master bath," I yell as he walks down the hallway. My words have him changing direction and he continues on to my brother's room like he's been here a hundred times before and lets himself into the bathroom. Tucked in the corner is the shower sprayer I've been too scared to look at the last two days.Crispin wastes no time getting into the shower and inspecting the head. He takes off his shoes and steps in leaving them on the little rug with his socks. He closes the shower door and then turns on the spray, letting the water hit the wall and eyeing the leak where large rivers of water flow from the base of the shower head."Hmmm," he says, washing his hands in the water's spray. "You just unscrewed it a little. With the water off, he twists the head in the opposite direction."You think you'll be able to fix it?" I ask when he steps back, looking at the shower head like it's finished even though he didn't test it.He looks to me and steps out of the way, bracing himsel
"You seem much more prepared for today's run," I shout across the road as Crispin jogs to my side of the street. "You look hot."His black running pants are skin tight, cupping his ass the perfect amount. The light blue running shirt clings to his chest, accenting his pecks."Don't give me crap now. We haven't even started running yet.""No, I mean it. Your outfit does you justice." I lazily trail my eyes up and down his body, making sure I get a long gaze, and then lean to the side to see from a fresh angle. I must keep the image for easy recall later.Crispin chuckles, finally catching on to what I'm saying. "I say, Miss Donovan, are you objectifying me?""Maybe."Crispin breaks out into a bigger grin. "I like it."I set my attention to fiddling with my watch, starting the run app so I can time how far we go. Halfway through the process, Crispin bends over and I lean back, checking out his ass one more time. Still amazing. I wasn't lying when I said he looked hot. Skint
Thank the heavens above, my phone beeps letting me know it's time for a cool down, and even though I want to roll over and die in the random person's grass next to us I refuse. Half a mile cooldown I can do. My steps slow, faster than normal for a regular cooldown, but these are desperate times."When your phone went off, it flashed a picture of a dog." Crispin taps on my phone reminding me of our conversation, which I'd forgotten in my excitement over surviving. Why did I pick running? Oh right, the health benefits even though I almost die every time.With my breathing coming back to regular, I undo the Velcro strap on the armband and slip my phone from the top. With another silent prayer to God as a thank you for fingerprint unlocking, I check my messages and find three from my ex Ben.The jerk.He's taken Hush, my damn dog, to one of our favorite cafes where they allow dogs on leashes as long as you sit outside on the patio. Hush sits in the chair across from him with a dog
When you run at night, it's still humid and you have all day to think about your stupid decisions. To talk yourself out of the run and remind your brain how awful exercise is. That means by the time I've taken the first step off the front porch I'm already miserable. Night runs are the worst.Especially when I had such an amazing day. After being in Pelican Bay for two months, I feel as if I'm settling in. And it's all thanks to Crispin. If not for him I never would have met the ladies who work at the bakery. I wouldn't spend my entire day set up in the shop gossiping about Tabitha's upcoming wedding or learning words of wisdom from Pearl as she sips away at her herbal tea and munches on a chocolate cupcake. Her husband picked her up around noon before the lunch rush and then I got behind the counter and helped clean up, carrying cups and plates. I wiped down tables and swept the floor. It was fun to get out of the house and see other people, even for my self-declared hermit lifestyl
"Hey!" I scream, pounding my fist against the metal and making a ruckus. "Let me out!"The van picks up its pace and I struggle to stay up on my knees without being tossed around, even though I hit a wall each time we take a corner. My stomach rolls from being in the back of the empty van with nothing here except a roll of carpeting, the green indoor/outdoor stuff you use on porches and patios. I see no tools or anything to help me escape. They haven't even left me a gun from what I can tell as I search around in the dark, my hands coming back empty.The van stops much too soon as I haven't come up with an escape plan by the time they open the door again. My first thought to run is waylaid when Tank points a gun through the open door. If he was a savior, it would be a wonderful scene, the darkness broken through with the opening and the light highlighting his face with a halo behind him. But he's not here to save me and the scene is one of horror rather than grace."I'm not getti