Free On the Run with Love by J.M. Benjamin

to be. But she realized all she had sacrificed to do so. Because the car was in her name, she knew that if she got a job it would just be a matter of time before the police came looking for her. And even though she had nothing to do with the shootout, it would bring heat to Freddie. The same thing with school; this hurt the most. She only had a few months to go before she would have been a certified public accountant. Now, all of that was gone, at least for the time being.
    Freddie spent the flight wondering what he would do once he reached Goldsboro. He had never worked a nine-to-five a day in his life, and he was willing to square up but he couldn’t. Everything was being set up to involve him in some type of criminal enterprise. But Freddie wasn’t a hustler; he was a player. All he knew was macking women; that was how he ate, how he paid bills, how he pampered Simone with everything, even the two-carat engagement ring. Still another reason to get rid of it. Simone never knew that the steak she ate, the clothes she wore, and the roof that sheltered her all came out of other women’s pocketbooks. But now that he had committed himself to Simone, what would or could he do to support her?
    Simone looked out over the airport parking lot and yawned. “Boo, I’m exhausted. Let’s just get a room instead of going straight to Goldsboro, okay?”
    Freddie looked at her and felt it was a good point. He needed to give Slug a chance to get there first. “Yeah, no doubt, ma. That’s a good idea.” He placed his arm around her waist and led her to one of the waiting cabs.
    â€œWelcome to Greensboro,” the cabbie drawled. “How was the flight?”
    Freddie was a little taken aback by the man’s Southern hospitality. In Jersey, you were lucky if a cabbie didn’t say, “Where the fuck you goin’?”
    â€œUh, it was cool. Thanks for askin’,” Freddie replied.
    â€œWhere to?” the cabbie asked as he pulled off.
    â€œYou know any motels you could suggest?” Freddie asked.
    â€œTop of the line, nice, flea bitten, or damn near condemned?” The cabbie chuckled.
    â€œNice.”
    â€œComin’ right up.”
    The cabbie drove them to the Red Roof Inn on High Point Road. “This good enough? Real nice prices, real nice people.”
    Simone giggled because he sounded like a commercial.
    â€œThanks, yo,” Freddie said, handing him a twenty. “Keep the change.”
    The meter only read eight dollars and thirty cents. “Well, I thank ya kindly. Y’all enjoy your stay in Greensboro.”
    Freddie and Simone climbed out of the cab with Freddie carrying the duffle bag. “Real nice prices, real nice people,” Freddie mocked, imitating a country accent.
    Simone hit him. “Stop, Freddie, he was nice!” She giggled. “But that did sound like a commercial.”
    They went in and Freddie copped a single room for three nights. Their room was on the second level. They entered the room and turned on the light because the sun had already set. The room was immaculate and had a peach bedspread, matching curtains, and off-white walls. It was a little stuffy because it had been a warm spring day in North Carolina, so Freddie turned on the air conditioner. He tossed the duffle bag onto the bed and Simone lay across it on her back. “Ohhh, that feels good.”
    Freddie clicked on the TV and flipped through a few stations, caught the news, and left it there, just in case. “You hungry?” Freddie asked.
    â€œA little. But for real for real, I just wanna take a bath and go to sleep,” she said, stretching her arms over her head.
    â€œWell, I’m about to starve, yo.”
    Simone was rummaging through the large duffle bag, pulling out clothes randomly. She had only managed to pack three sets of clothes for Freddie and four for herself, along with a few pairs of shoes, sneakers, and boots.
    â€œDamn.