The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(81)

I passed a dozen churches—at least—before I found a gas station a few miles down the road, heading out of town. The parking lot was deserted except for a black Bronco parked to the side on the grass. All but one of the pumps was covered with an “out of order” sign. I pulled up to the one working pump, cut the engine, and ran inside like my life depended on it.

A kid that looked to be between 13 or 14 at most sat behind the counter eating a hotdog. I ran past him toward the restroom and then he shouted with his mouth full.

“You need the key!”

I looped back around and held my hand out, but the kid shook his head.

“Payin’ customers only.”

He stuffed another bite of hotdog in his mouth and chewed slowly, watching me with beady little eyes.

I rammed my hand into the candy bin in front of me and then dropped three Snickers and a Butterfinger onto the counter.

“There,” I said, pulling out my wallet and handing over my card. “Can I have the bathroom key now?”

He shook his head. “There’s a five dollar min’mum on cards.”

I resisted the urge to strangle him and instead shoved my hand back into the candy bin. After he rang up my order with excruciating laziness, I held my hand out for the key.

“Are you gonna get gas too?” he asked, pointing to where my car was parked haphazardly in the spot.

I waved my hand.

“After. I just need to piss.”

He shrugged, slid off his stool, and bent to retrieve a tiny key hanging off a giant plastic keychain. I reached for it and ran for the door. Had I cared, I would have contemplated the origins of the sticky film coating the plastic keychain, but I honestly didn’t give a fuck.

Once I’d gone pee, found enough shitty food to fill me up for the time being, and paid for a full tank of gas, I nodded to the kid behind the counter.

“Do you know where Cherry Street is?”

He laughed. “Sounds like the name of a porno.”

I resisted the urge to ask his age.

“Is that a yes?”

He shook his head. “I’m from over near Whitewater. I don’t know anything ’bout Cherry Street.”

I assumed Whitewater was a neighboring town.

“Do you have any maps around here?”

He pointed to a cardboard rack near the door that was all but empty except for a Texas State Parks pamphlet that looked like it’d been used a few times, crumbled up, and put back.

Perfect. I’ll camp my way through the Texas hill country instead of finding Josephine.

“Thanks anyway.” I nodded as I pushed the door open.

“I’d try McAllister’s bar,” he called out. I turned and he pointed in the direction I’d just come from. “It’s a block off Main Street, just behin’ the courthouse. Most nights there’s a few guys in there. One of ’em should be able to help ya.”





Chapter Forty-Nine


Josephine





I had my face squashed up against the window as I concentrated on not throwing up. Every twist and turn we took in the truck made my stomach’s contents jostle in the worst way possible. I was about two seconds from throwing up all over my dad’s upholstery.

“Do you have to drive like a wild woman?” I moaned, clutching my stomach.

Lily glared over at me. “I’m literally going ten miles an hour, your highness.”

I stared back out the window, wishing I was back home, in my bed, sleeping off the beers I’d just downed like there was no tomorrow. It was the day after my father’s birthday and I’d needed some space from my family. I’d picked Lily up, grabbed a six-pack from a gas station in town, and together we’d driven out to the middle of nowhere so I could down them all.

“If you’re going to throw up, at least hand me your phone first,” she said.

I was still clutching it against my stomach. I hadn’t let it out of my sight since arriving in Texas in the hopes that it’d pick up a signal. The thing hadn’t buzzed in days.

“Fine. Take it. I have zero service in this godforsaken wasteland anyway.”

I huffed and tossed the phone in the center cup holder.

“I just want to call Julian! I haven’t spoken to him in two days. TWO DAYS!”

We passed the “Welcome” sign and continued on toward Main Street. Lily turned to the right and we drove down the side street, right past McAllister’s bar. There were two or three cars out front, not many. Near the door, under a street lamp, I noticed two guys talking. One was Louis Calhoun, the manager of the bar, and the other one was tall and dressed in black slacks and a button-up. He had to be from out of town. I squinted as Lily drove by, trying to make out his profile, and then suddenly, I recognized him.

“Julian!” I shouted so loud that even my own ears started to ring. “That’s Julian!”

Lily slammed on the brakes. “What? Where?”

“At McAllister’s! Turn around!”

She shook her head.

“If you think Julian is at McAllister’s then you really are trashed. I’m taking you home.”

“But if Julian is here, that means…where is New York?” I asked, turning back to the window and starting to roll it down, cranking it lower with both hands. “I’ll ask him.”