Free Don't Lose Her by Jonathon King Page B

out over the open expanse of high empty ceilings, crisscrossing rafters, and caged industrial light bulbs hanging just above her level and casting an orange glow over the space below. On the ground floor, she looked first to her right, at the pile of metal and destroyed upholstery and stacked tires that had once been the white van Danny and the others pulled up in when they’d arrived with the woman. Danny was sitting there alone on an intact removable backseat. The cutting torches and gas cylinders and safety mask were beside him, standing as if his only friends.
    He seemed to sense her presence. When he looked up, she could see the flash of alarm in his widening eyes and his palms came up to warn her back. She thought, Fuck it, Danny, I got to pee, and crossed her legs and frowned in a pantomime of need.
    Then she followed his eyes across the room and saw the other three men sitting at a square card table, corralling a pile of bills in the middle, each holding a fan of cards in their hands. Geronimo the asshole looked up from his cards when Danny stood, and read that something in the air had changed. He turned his face up to where Rae stood, then followed her sightline back down to Danny.
    Danny shrugged his shoulders once, grabbing at his crotch and then gesturing up to the landing. The Indian dipped his chin and with an almost imperceptible nod, gave his permission.
    While Danny moved to the staircase, Rae moved down so that they could meet at the bottom step. She sneered at the “What the fuck you doin’” look on Danny’s face and pushed past him to the only bathroom in the place, in the corner next to a half-glassed-in office. Danny followed, and when she stepped in through the bathroom door, he came in, too. She didn’t try to stop him .
    Rae let him close the door and then spun in front of the old-style porcelain commode, pulled down her shorts and panties in one motion, and squatted, all without once looking him in the eye. Elbows on knees, she sat there—waiting, knowing him. He couldn’t stand the silent treatment. Danny hated when she wouldn’t talk to him, refused to argue out a disagreement, flat-out stoned the idea of discussion. He’d get frustrated, angry, then come back pleading.
    She knew this was her power over him. It wasn’t long before she felt him come over and stand in front of her. She was looking at his jeans, the old cowboy belt buckle, the plain gray T-shirt he always wore, eschewing anything with a print or logo or insignia, and then she felt his curled index finger under her chin and she let him lift her face to his.
    â€œI’m sorry, baby. But it’s not going to be long,” he whispered, knowing he was breaking Geronimo’s rule against talking.
    â€œThere’s been some kinda glitch. One day, babe, maybe two. Then we’re done, we get the money, we’re outta here,” he said, kneeling down.
    Fucking Danny, she thought. She looked straight into his cornflower blue eyes, the ones that few girls in Leelanau County could ever resist. She was no exception. But she also knew that he never said he was sorry to anyone else in this world.
    â€œGoddamnit, Danny, is that woman a federal judge?” she hissed. “Is that a kidnapped federal judge up there you got me watching?”
    She kept her eyes on his, using her advantage, turning the blade of guilt. Danny put his finger to her lips, even though she was barely whispering and knew the unbreakable rule, and he inched forward and crouched down, pressing in between her knees, opening her thighs with his chest and forcing her elbows off. Then his face came forward, and she lost contact with his eyes and felt his lips on her forehead.
    â€œShe’s bullshitting you, Rae. She ain’t no judge. It’s gonna work, Radar. You know it’s gonna work. You just gotta hang in, do your part, and we’re golden.”
    She let his lips lay there, their cool touch