Escaping Parker, page 4
We continue to drive, and during that time I fall asleep, proving I’m the worst company ever, until I am woken up. It’s dark outside, and this time we are in a lit up city. Lights from buildings illuminate the streets, where I watch a couple walk hand in hand. I can definitely see just with their movements that they are having fun. She keeps bumping into him and throwing her head back laughing. It makes me wonder if I will ever feel that joy again. I’m envious, craving any resemblance to a normal life. All I’ve ever wanted to feel is loved and appreciated, someone to tell me I’m beautiful, and I’m the light of their life. Having a soulmate left my dreams a long time ago, knowing my heart could never trust again. I believe I’m naïve and flat-out gullible, eating up all the lines that were ever given to me from the one person I trusted most.
I want Steven to feel the pain I’ve suffered throughout the years at the hands of his abuse. I want him to worry where I am, and fear I’m dead. I would like nothing more than to watch his life fall apart, and realize that the one thing he thought he so effortlessly had is now gone forever. Hoping every night when he goes to bed alone in that cold empty bed, he prays I don’t spill all the secrets that I have been hoarding, ones that could ruin his life—ones I’ve been too scared and embarrassed to expose.
“You ok?” Rig asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I lie, not able to admit what’s bugging me.
“So, we’re going to stay at a hotel tonight. Tomorrow, when we stop for the day, we will be staying a couple days in a safe house. Give us a little time to recuperate until you are given the envelope to our next destination. I don’t know where we’re going after there. It’s all done through the safe houses. We get an envelope to pass on, and we don’t even know where we’re going.”
“Ok.” It’s the only response I have.
“So we’re going to go into the lobby, and I’ll check us in. Don’t make any type of eye contact. You’re going to want to be invisible to anybody who might be in there. Can you do that?”
He asks as if he has a doubt to the way I follow directions. What he doesn’t know is that I have spent the last several years avoiding people, looks, and chatter. Never wanting to be seen by others, or even trying to act like I didn’t live in that house with Steven. This is second nature to me.
“Yes,” I say with an extra bit of attitude laced in there.
He retrieves our bags from the trunk, and I don’t say anything while I follow him into the lobby, keeping my eyes down, trying not to look obvious. Now I realize why he made a point of asking me if I could do this. Suddenly I feel like I’m doing wrong, like not looking at people shows that I’m hiding something. It’s like this weird insta-guilt.
I stand next to Rig at the front desk, dropping my gaze to the floor. If I had my phone, I could try and look busy checking things on that, but I have to make do. I get lost in my thoughts for a moment, when I hear him talking to the gentleman checking us in.
“Double beds, please. She tosses and turns like nobody’s business,” Rig says with a chuckle. I don’t know why it irritates me since he doesn’t even know me. I know he is acting and making things seem normal, but this anything but.
“Alright, Mr. Daniels, here are your room keys. If you need anything, just call us.” The guy hands us our stuff.
Once we get to our room, he opens the door and I’m pleased that it’s a suitable room. I need a room to feel comfortable, so I can try and get a decent night’s rest. Everything is clean, light, and nothing like the first room I stayed in with Mark. It smells fresh, and isn’t too crammed with both of us here.
Rig sets the bags at the end of the bed. “We’ll order dinner up, and just try and get as much rest as we can before we start our next drive. I don’t plan on stopping until we’re there, so we can make good time.”
“Ok. I’m not picky. I eat almost anything, so whatever you order is fine with me.”
I go into the bathroom and see a giant tub, craving a soak, but wondering how uncomfortable that will be with Rig in the room. Ultimately, it’s just too tempting to pass up.
“I’m going to take a bath while we wait for the food. Do you need to use the bathroom before I go in?” I offer.
“No, I’m good thanks. Food will be here in about thirty minutes,” he says.
“So are there any other clothes than the ones I got on?”
“Yes, there are. Here, I hope something in here works for you.” He hands me a black duffle bag.
“Thanks.” I take the bag and lock the bathroom door behind me.
I start the water, grab some of the bubble bath provided by the hotel, and empty the contents in the water. I soak till my fingers are waterlogged, trying to think about nothing at all, and it feels fantastic. I’m not even thinking about Steven barging in ruining my night. For the first time in a long time, I feel safe. I know there still is a lot to be concerned about, and we aren’t out of the woods, but I will take this moment and live in it.
A knock on the door tells me the food is here, so I get out of the tub and wrap the plush white towel around me. Walking over to the fogged up mirror, I wipe at it and see someone who resembles me staring back. No bruises to try and hide, and there is a tiny spark of life in my eyes.
I dig out some clothes I would never choose for myself, but gladly put them on. It’s not something to be picky over. It’s just a plain pair of sweats, and a solid gray tee shirt. A big robe hangs on the back of the door, I grab it and wrap it around myself over my clothes.
Rig hands me a plate as I enter. “Here’s yours. I got us some club sandwiches and fries, nothing fancy.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
I grab the remote and hit power on the TV. The high I’m on shatters. The news reporter drones on about a missing woman, and she’s talking about me. I thought being far away from California would hide me a little better, but this just shows me how much power Steven has, and how far he will go to find me.
They ask Steven lots of questions. They are playing it as if he’s the torn up husband: brokenhearted, concerned something horrible has happened to me, and begging for me to come home. It’s funny how well he is playing the part, his hair is not done, and he isn’t wearing his typical suits. He really is acting here.
“Clarissa went to a meeting and never came home, our whole family is terrified that she was set up, robbed, or worse.” He lies to the reporter, as I listen to the report.
We are working together, searching for clues and urging if anybody has any information to please call the tip line and let them know anything.”
Shivers run down my body as I think of all the manpower and resources he’s using to find me. He must think I am really gone, but I don’t underestimate that this is all a front to track me down.
I nervously look over to Rig, who is watching the TV and speed typing on his phone.
“What do I do? They’re going to find me,” I say, defeated.
“They aren’t. We just have to be more careful than we have been. You aren’t Clarissa anymore, you are Parker now,” he demands.
I cover my food back up not having the stomach for it now.
“I think I’m just going to go to sleep now. I’m tired.”
“Don’t let this discourage you, this happens all the time. You are free. Stop worrying about Clarissa, because she doesn’t exist anymore.”
“I know. I just need to go to bed. I wish I never put that TV on,” I mumble. “Thanks for the food, sorry I wasted it.” I get up to close up the container and get it off my bed, my hands are shaking, and I knock the food on the floor.
Bending down to clean it up, I pause for a second staring at the mess I’d normally rush to clean up before Steven would notice. Rig gets up, and crouches down to help pick it up, but I stop him.
“Please don’t, I’ve got it.” I hold up my hand stopping him, I’m not use to someone helping me clean up, especially it being my mess.
“Let me help you, it’s ok.” He stresses.
“Thank you, but I got it.” I put my foot down, something I haven’t done in a long time, but it feels good.
Once I clean up the mess, turn off the light by my bedside and bury myself in the covers, hiding away and trying hard to not cry about the news, but it takes over and I can’t stop it. I muffle the sound, hopefully not alarming Rig so he thinks I have lost it, and I cry myself to sleep.
Blinding light wakes me up, and I scramble to find the time. Once I’m out of my sleepy fog I’m reminded that I’m safe, and in a hotel room with Rig. I see him standing at the window, looking over at me with his hand on the curtain.
“Up and at ’em,” His voice booms and he walks away from the window.
I take a moment to let my eyes adjust to the light, and try not to think of everything I learned last night. I just want to go back to bed and wake up again, hoping this is all just a horrible dream, but it’s not. I find the bit of strength I have to pull myself from this bed, my safe spot last night.
“Let me grab my things. I’ll be ready in a couple minutes.” I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I grab the few things I left in the bathroom from the night before and throw them in my bag. As I walk by Rig, my stomach rumbles.
“I guess we should get you some food first. You didn’t even take a bite of your food last night.”
I curse my stomach for bringing this up. “Would you have had an appetite after learning the whole world is looking for you? I don’t even want to leave this room. He is going to find me, and kill me.”
“Stop it. Do you think I haven’t been through this before, that I would be putting my own life at risk if I didn’t think I could handle this?” His face twists into a scowl.
“Do you think I like feeling like this?” I snap. “That I want to walk around never knowing if someone is going to recognize me and tip him off? You only seem to see things your way, and could care less about what the people you are helping feel.”
I wish Mark was back here. At least he seemed to sympathize with victims, unlike this joke of a person who thinks I should know how to act and feel with this new life I’m trying to get use to. After years of fear and uncertainty, I’m doing the best I can, and trying to not let my emotions control me.
“Don’t ever tell me I see things only one way. I see things the way they need to be seen to not get us killed. Do you think if he was to find us that I would be let off scot-free? This is my choice to help you, but it’s your choice to let me help you. So don’t think any of us HAVE to be here.” He storms toward the door, holding it open for me. “Now are you ready?”
I throw my hands in the air. He’s just not going to see things my way. I stomp past him out the door, like a child throwing a tantrum. He chuckles, which infuriates me more, and the door closes.
“It’s not funny.” I spin around and glare. He smiles at me in heart-stopping, sexy way. I’m fucking pissed he’s doing this right now while I’m trying to prove my point. My lips defy me as they turn up, showing a hint of smile. I quickly walk away so he doesn’t see. The last thing I need is a beautiful distraction like him. Warm chestnut hair, accompanied by those striking blue eyes, and the stubble he has yet to shave off. The untamed just woke up.
We walk silently through the hotel’s halls, making our way to the elevator, which makes for a very uncomfortable ride down to the lobby.
“Are you gonna snap at me if I tell you to remember to keep your eyes down?”
“No. I’ll remember,” I say dryly.
In the lobby, people are shuffling around, checking out, and grabbing the customary free breakfast. My stomach rumbles while looking at all the food, so I make my way to the tables. I grab a bagel, and one for Rig, feeling that it would be easier than stopping somewhere. This just gives us more time to make it to the next place.
The chatter around me dies down, and people stop what they’re doing, looking toward the check-in desk. I glance over to see what they are looking at, wondering if some celebrity has entered the hotel. Two police officers are standing at the front desk, holding up a piece of paper.
Rig spins me around and blocks me from view. “Keep your eyes down and breathe. I have to get you out of here. They are coming this way.” His jaw tightens as the wheels turn in his head.
I brush my fingers over my wig, hoping it’s enough.
“Happy Anniversary, babe!” he says loudly.
Suddenly his lips are on mine, kissing me. I know in my head this is all an act, a distraction to throw off the police, but I can’t help the goose bumps crawling all over my body. His lips are soft and warm. My cheeks start to heat, and I know I am blushing. We continue to play this game, and I kind of like how his lips feel on mine. He breaks the kiss, and I keep my eyes closed for a bit longer to hold on to the feeling.
“I’m sorry I had to do that, there wasn’t another choice. Are you ok?” He searches my face. The smug smile that creeps up on his face shows me he has noticed the red of my cheeks.
So I do what I have to do, and push him back away from me. “I’m fine. Don’t let that happen again.” I play it off, not sure how convincing I’m being.
“We have to get out of here. Let’s go.” He looks around, taking me by the hand and guiding me out of the hotel. We run in and out of the rows of cars before we reach ours.
“This is why we have safe houses, which is where we’re going next,” Rig says as we pull out of the parking lot. “We have to keep you out of public places for a while.”
“So you think if we let things die down for a bit, they’ll forget about me and I can try to live again?” Will starting over ever be in my future?
“I wouldn’t be thinking that far ahead. You need to worry about what’s going on now, not later. That’s only a distraction from the present.”
“I know, I’m just grasping at anything right now. Trying to think positive.” I crawl between the seats and try and get comfortable in the backseat.
“Sorry I had to do that in there. They were getting close to us, and I had to throw them off. It won’t happen again,” he promises, watching me in the rearview mirror.
I can’t tell him I don’t care—that it was the first time in years I have felt desired, even if it was all for show. I don’t say a word. I let it go, not wanting to draw attention to how lonely I’ve been for a long time.
I let out a dramatic sigh as I stare out the window, watching the city around us disappear. Once again . . . destination unknown.
The awkward silence drives me insane. “Can we listen to some music?”
“Um, yeah. Let me see what I can find on the radio; do you have any preferences?”
“Nope, anything with a beat will do.”
My muscles unwind as he tunes through different stations, waiting for the music to play. He finds some classic rock, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel, keeping with the beat. I like that we have a common taste in music.
I get lost listening to the music, letting the things I can’t control leave my mind and drift off to sleep.
I wake up during the drive, wondering how much longer we have. I resist the urge to ask Rig, and I stare out the window. Our headlights illuminate the traffic signs as we whiz by, but none give me any indication where we are.
We take several turns and have been on this dirt road for the past half hour. So I can’t help but get excited when I see a small, weathered house we are closing the distance on. The tires crunch on the gravel driveway as we pull up. The siding appears to be rotting away and nothing looks like it’s been kept up. I suddenly get nervous that this will be where we’re staying indefinitely.
“Is this it?” I ask, eying the place.
“This is where we’ll be for a little while, until things die down and it’s safe for you to be out. Hope you aren’t opposed to some hard work.” Rig gives me sly smile.
“Work? I wasn’t under the impression I would be doing any work, maybe just a lot of hiding.”
“Well, what fun would it be to have explained it in the beginning? Remember, you don’t really know anything until it happens. Let’s get inside, and I’ll explain more later on.”
I’m not up for a fight, or anymore unwanted weirdness between us, so I help grab a bag, and quietly walk up to the house with him.
Before we reach the doors, an elderly couple exits and greets us, hand in hand. The tiny-framed woman comes right up to Rig and hugs him tightly.
“Ryan, it’s been so long. How are you doing?” She takes him by the shoulders, examining him. “Let me look at you here. Glad to have you back.”
His eyes dart to me. Ryan, huh? I make a mental note to call him by that when he makes me do “work.”
“Alice, I’m good. Thank you for having us. This here is—”
“Parker.” She smiles. “We’ve been waiting for you. Andrew already filled us in. This is my husband, Jim.” Jim extends his hand toward me and I shake it. “Well, come on in, let’s get you settled. Ryan, be a dear and help the lady with her bag.”
Rig snatches my bag like a good boy, and I chuckle, letting it slip a little. He bites his lip and shakes his head. Now I really want to find out the connection between them. I don’t know what it is about Alice, but I already like her.
The stairs creak while we walk up them, and when we get inside, I’m transported into the sixties: green carpet, floral chairs, everything looks antique and untouched. The house seems like its falling apart around them, the wallpaper is peeling off the walls. Nothing looks kept up, and I’m now starting to understand the meaning of work.
“You must be hungry from all the traveling. I heated up some leftovers for you guys. Please come into the kitchen and sit down.”
“It smells great, thank you,” I say as Rig pulls my seat out for me. I kind of like having Alice around. It brings out this completely different side of the stuffy, crass, I-know-everything Rig.
“Thank you, Alice. I think we can handle it from here. It’s late, you guys should get some rest,” Rig suggests.
