Moth(38)

?I remain in front of her like a brick wall. "If you're in trouble let me help you."

"No one can help me. I'm beyond help. I've done things no one can be forgiven for. I'm a terrible person."

I extend my hand again. "Let me get you out of here. I know a place. No questions asked."

"Why won't you give up?"

"It's not in my vocabulary. Come with me."

"I'm not going to that house you live in."

"I'm not taking you there."

"Why? Why would you do this for me? I don't deserve to be helped."

I reach for her chin and lift it so she's looking into my eyes. "I could turn around and walk away. Maybe you're trouble and being around you is dangerous. It's my decision to make. I'm going to step outside your door. If you want to come with me right now you'll pack a bag and meet me out front. If you don't come out in five minutes I'll leave and never come back." I start to turn for the door. "Kissing you last night was one of the best damn moments I’ve had in as long as I can remember, so thanks for letting me have that."

I don’t watch the time tick as I wait outside her door. I can’t be one-hundred percent confident she’ll appear, but I’m hopeful, both for the case and her own safety. Fake Windy continues to be threatened by numerous people, who are probably all working for the same source. My mind goes back to Maria and how her involvement with me cost her a life and future with her children. I can’t let history repeat itself. I can’t give up hope that this time will be different.

The sound of her door unfastening lets me know she’s behind me. A small travel bag is dangling from her hand, and a worrisome glance is all she offers me. “This is a bad idea.”

“Why? Something has you upset, so I’m going to get you away from it all for a little while.”

“I have work and school.”

“People get sick. You can make up the classwork. Most is online anyway,” I say with assumption.

“How do I know you weren’t hired to do this?” She stops dead in her tracks, halfway down the stairs. We’re so close to freedom and she’s hesitating. It makes no sense.

“What are you talking about? Hired to do what?” I’m reserved when I play stupid. “Look, I have no idea what is going on here. I get that you don’t want to talk about it, but if you’re in danger we need to go.”

She shakes off her ill feeling and follows me outside.

There’s only one problem with my brilliant plan.

I ran to her. There’s no car waiting. If she’s already suspicious she’s going to be worse now. I quickly come up with something in my head. “My shit ass truck is in the shop.”

“How did you get here?”

“I was out running. Figured stopping by wouldn’t hurt.”

She reaches in her purse and tosses me a set of keys. “Here, you drive, being that you’re supposed to be taking me somewhere.”

I wink at her before heading to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Before inserting the key into the ignition I smell something with a fish-like odor. I get down closer to the pedals and it’s stronger, so I climb back out of the car and look underneath. Sure enough there’s a huge puddle. Someone has cut her brake lines in hopes that she’d crash and probably perishes. “What are you doing?” She’s asking.

“Um, so when I was in high school I worked at an auto repair shop in town. One of the things I learned early on was the smell of brake fluid. It’s got a nasty fishy scent you can’t ever forget.”

She leans over to my side and takes a whiff, covering her nose when she finally catches it. “Oh, wow. So I’m having car trouble now too?”

“I’m afraid this might be intentional.”

She seems horrified. “What?”

“Windy, your brake lines appear to be cut. Someone wanted you to get behind the wheel and…” I can’t say it out loud. She’s already out of control with concern for her safety. It would be like adding fuel to an already stoked fire. “Come with me. We’re going to get a cab.”

She hurries down the next block with me. I’m doing this in case they are doing surveillance from outside of her apartment building. I found and destroyed enough mini cameras to know someone had access to everything she does, so it’s only expected that they would be thorough. Later I’m going to have to commandeer each phone to check for tracking devices. Since she hasn’t explained the trouble she’s in I don’t want to alarm her or bring up suspicions. This is for her safety and mine.

Not long after we begin walking do we come to a raggedy motel with a blinking sign. She yanks at my arm to stop. “What about this place? I could split the cost with you.”

“Hell no. I’m not taking you to bed bug central. Keep walking.”

A local movie theater is packed with patrons. As a couple climbs out of a taxi, we slip inside. I call out a location to the driver and we’re off.

The hotel I’ve chosen is off the beaten path of town. It’s where I stayed when I was first in town trying to avoid my father. Windy says nothing as we check in and make our way to the room. I know this place is safe for her. There are no cameras and no listening devices to worry about. We can speak freely, even from the ears of my awaiting team.