Freeks(90)

“What seems to be the problem today?” Gideon asked.

“Well, I’m here on behalf of the town of Caudry.” Bob cleared his throat, and it sounded like it pained him to be cordial to us. “You were promised a salary for your ‘work’”—he paused to do air quotes—“so I’m here to deliver your fee.”

He held the envelope out toward Gideon. Gideon eyed him for a moment, unsure if this was a trick, but since it didn’t seem to be one, he took it. Then the deputy took off his sunglasses, so we could see the disgust in his eyes.

“I don’t know what the hell happened between you and the Alvarados, and I don’t care,” Deputy Bob said. “I’m certain the tragedy that’s befallen young Miss Selena had something to do with you, but since Della Jane has the sheriff in her back pocket and she’s insisting that we let you go, well, then that’s what I have to do.”

“We’ll be out of here just as soon as we’re finished loading up,” Gideon assured him.

“I have a message from Della Jane, though,” Bob continued. “She said that if you ever step back into Caudry again, she will take care of you herself. And though she didn’t ask me to, I will be happy to help her.”

Gideon nodded once, but didn’t say anything more, because there was nothing to say. Once the deputy had gotten into his car, Gideon went back to loading up the trailers.

Hutch and Roxie were putting the finishing touches on Roxie’s trailer—which basically meant duct-taping anything that was coming loose. She’d have to drive slow, but it’d be doable.

We finished packing up quicker than we ever had before, and Gideon gathered everyone to go over the plan—where we’d stop for gas, how we’d divvy up the money, where we were meeting up.

But since my mom was driving, and I knew we’d just follow Gideon there, I didn’t really need to listen. I walked away from them to the edge of the camp, staring out toward the road.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Roxie said, pulling me from my thoughts. She stood beside me and lit a cigarette. “You can’t really blame him, either. He lost his sister, and his whole life is in shambles.”

“I know. But I was hoping I would see him one last time.”

“Mara?” my mom called from behind me. “We should get going.”

I was just about to turn back when I saw it. A shiny red dot barreling down the road toward us. My heart caught in my throat as Gabe drove his Mustang right up into our campsite.

The T-top was down, so the wind had ruffled his chestnut hair. He’d barely parked the car before he leapt out, jumping over the driver’s-side door, but he took slow, deliberate steps over to me.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t get to say good-bye,” I said around the lump in my throat.

“Actually, I didn’t come here to say good-bye.” He took my hand in his, and his eyes were soft and hopeful. “I wanted to know if I can come with you.”

I was too startled to say anything for a moment, but I finally managed to get out a meek “What?”

“I know it’s sudden, and if you guys don’t have room—”

“We always have room,” I replied quickly, reciting Gideon’s motto. “But what about your family? Your life?”

He looked down at the ground. “I don’t have a life here, and my family is…” He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “My family’s been doing some pretty despicable things for a long time, and I want to put as much distance between me and them as I can.”

“What if you change your mind?” I asked.

He laughed darkly. “I don’t think I will, but if I do, there’s plenty of roads that lead back here, and plenty of phones to call home.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” I asked, barely able to hide the excitement in my voice.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” he replied.

Still holding his hand, I led him back to where my mom and Gideon were talking outside the Winnebago.

“Gabe wants to come with us,” I said, and neither of them looked surprised.

Gideon nodded once. “We’ve always got room, but we should get moving. I wanna get out of this place as soon as we can.”

“You can ride with him, if you want,” Mom offered. “And we’ll discuss sleeping arrangements when we get to Houston.”

That was all the encouragement we needed, and we hurried back to his car. The Mustang drove faster than the motorhomes, so we sped on ahead. It wasn’t until we were on the long bridge that led out of Caudry, over Lake Tristeaux, that the ice in my chest finally dissolved completely, and I relaxed into the seat.

Gabe looked over at me, grinning, and that glint of something devilish and dangerous sparkled in his eye, and I knew he’d be up for anything. We could follow each other to the ends of the earth and back.