Free Ridge Creek by C L Green Page A

intense as he
studies me closely.
    “What does maybe mean?”
    “It means that my going home depends on how you answer my
next question,” he replies with a hint of caution in his voice.  His green eyes
glow just a little and I find myself mesmerized as I wait for him to ask his
question.  His question takes me by surprise. 
    “Why did you hide under the bed earlier?”
    I was not expecting that!
    “Um…” Watching his eyes closely I try to interpret why this
question is so important.  I can see it holds great weight with him.  By the
serious lines on his face and the hard set of his jaw, I can see my answer
matters.  Deciding I don’t have anything left to hide from this guy, I go with
honesty.
    “There was a loud bang.  I thought Tony had found us and he was
shooting people.”
    I watch his face as he blanks out for a few seconds before
recovering.  Understanding then dawns in his eyes.  “The bike backfired,” he
mutters.  “They were working on a bike in the garage.  It backfired.”
    “Oh…”
    God I feel like an idiot.
    “You panicked and threw yourself under a bed,” he continues
as if he is talking to himself.
    “Um…”
    “I’m not going home tonight,” he announces firmly as he
grabs his shot glass and downs another drink.
    “You can go home…” I offer.  Because really, why should he
stay?  I’m a big girl now.  I’ve made it this far and if I wasn’t here, I’d
probably be hiding in a dumpster somewhere, scared out of my wits.  Scared out
of my wits and planning to live my life dumpster diving, wearing big overcoats
and filthy hats to disguise my identity.  I’d probably even shave my head.  So
far, things are panning out far better than I could have imagined.  There’s
hope that I can live a life and I can do it with hair.
    “You don’t feel safe yet,” he explains as he watches me closely.
    “I feel safe… ish, ” I reply without hesitation. 
“Safer than I would feel somewhere else…” 
    Say in a dumpster, with bags of left over Chinese food…
    And that’s a fact. 
    I doubt I could feel safer anywhere else right now.  I’m in
a different State, I’m in a small town in the middle of nowhere and I’m hiding
behind a biker shop.  These three things alone create more anonymity for me
than any plan I could have dreamed up.
    Just because I’ve become a total nervous wreck doesn’t mean
he needs to baby-sit me.  I’m sure he’s got a life.
    Holy shit.
    He’s probably got a wife or someone who waits at home for
him and here he is, sitting at a bar, drinking with me.   I don’t need any more enemies.  I have more than enough already.  Jake’s girlfriend or
wife holding a grudge against me would be horrible. 
    Fuck.
    It seems that huge parts of my brain are no longer
functioning because this is something I should have asked him waaaay earlier.  “Do you have a wife?” I blurt out loudly. 
    More snorts and grunts from the table behind me.  This time
I choose to ignore them.  Clearly they are listening to every word of our
conversation.
    Fascinated I watch as Jake’s face instantly hardens.   He
looks pissed.  “Yes,” he grinds the word out as I stare fascinated at
the way his eyes have gone almost yellow green now that he’s pissed.
    That’s strange and unusual.
    “Oh…” I quickly decide I don’t need to know any more.  The
guy’s got a wife.  I need to steer clear.   No doubt I’m already a
complication as it is.  I can just see it now, Jake arriving home to his pretty
wife who’s been slaving over a hot stove all day.  She hasn’t seen him all day
and she’s excited her man is home.  Then he has to tell her he’s picked a woman
up off the side of the road and he needs to spend all his days and all his
nights babysitting her to make sure she doesn’t get herself shot.
    Bingo – instantly I become female enemy number one.
    Good times.
    “She’s a fucking bitch,” his words once again snap me
out of my head.