The Getaway Car Page 19

  “What exactly am I going with? Are you trying to reenact that night or something?”

  “Not particularly.” I grabbed her hand, holding her stare long enough to make her see the truth in my eyes. “Think about it, Maggie. This is where you were faced with two decisions—stay or leave. You chose the wrong one, and over the last four years, that decision has haunted you. Right?”

  Rather than speak, she swallowed harshly and nodded.

  “I don’t know about you, but those demons have owned every second of every day since, and I’d like my life back. Resentment is crippling, and I’m tired of living with it wrapped around me, growing tighter with every breath I take. I meant what I said about forgetting what happened. Not just forgetting it, but finding peace and letting it go. Don’t you want the same?”

  “Yes. More than anything.”

  “Okay…then let’s go face those demons head-on and put them to rest. This way, when we get home tomorrow, we can move forward.”

  She nodded, though her gaze fell away, and I couldn’t help but think she’d done that to prevent me from seeing her emotions through her eyes. If I really tried, I could pick it all apart and figure out what they were, but I had more important things to focus on.

  With her hand still in mine, I locked the truck and led her to the office. Ever since waking up this morning I’d planned this—bringing her here. I’d had the last twelve hours to prepare for this, while Maggie had less than five minutes. Regardless, she seemed to handle herself far better than I did when we walked through the main door.

  The desk was exactly the same—as well as the wallpaper and carpet, even the message board mounted above a fake plant. I hadn’t expected to walk into the office and travel back in time, but that’s exactly what happened. The only difference between then and now was that instead of the drumming rain beating against the roof, the evening sun bathed the room in a soft, orange glow. Had it been raining, I could be convinced that I’d been sent here from the future to stop her before she left.

  “Good evening.” An older lady popped up from behind the counter with a smile brightening her face. “What can I help you two with today?”

  I couldn’t breathe—well, technically I could, it was just hard and painful. It might’ve taken a moment, but I recognized this woman. She had been the same one who’d checked me in last time. Her hair had settled into a solid state of grey, versus the more ash tone from before. Obviously, she’d aged, much like we all had, yet her smile had remained the same. Which was odd that I would’ve remembered that of all things, especially since I’d only seen her that one time. But she had allowed me to pay in cash for a room, despite my credit card declining.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I stepped closer, never releasing Maggie’s hand. “We would like to get a room for tonight, if that’s possible.”

  “Of course it is, young man.” She’d said the same thing to me before. Word for word.

  “Room number seven wouldn’t be available, would it? We’ve been here before, and that’s the one we stayed in. I’d love it if we could get it again—as long as it’s vacant, that is.”

  Her eyes met mine. They were wide in wonderment, which was echoed in the gasp that escaped her pink lips. “We don’t get many returning guests. Unless you count some of the townies who need a bed for a few nights while their wives get over whatever stupid thing they did this time. When were you here last?”

  “Four years ago…almost exactly.”

  “That’s amazing you came back.” She tapped away on the same keyboard, which even then, I’d thought might’ve come from the nineties. Hell, even the computer seemed to be the same, and just like before, I leaned over to check if it had a spot for a floppy disk.

  “Yeah. We wanted to reminisce, so it made sense to stop in.”

  Her genuine grin gave me comfort, while also hitting me with a layer of guilt for lying. Not to mention, I was sure Maggie would give me an earful once we left. I couldn’t imagine she was okay with this charade, though thankfully, she hadn’t set it straight.

  “It must be your lucky day. Room seven is available.”

  I squeezed Maggie’s hand, and then dared to glance at her. The fear on her face nearly had me asking if she was all right. I had no idea what would happen if the woman behind the desk picked up on it.

  I handed the lady my license and credit card, and while she entered my information, I turned to face Maggie, using my body as a shield to hide her. I didn’t say anything to her, worried that this woman might’ve worn hearing aids. From what Tony used to tell me, if the volume was up high enough, it could pick up hushed conversations from across a crowded room. Instead, I tipped her chin, allowing her to find my eyes on her own.

  Her breathing slowed, and after a couple seconds, the panic pinching her face faded away. It was the strangest thing, while also so familiar at the same time. I’d seen it before—namely when I’d taken her to the men’s room to clean the blood off her face. I couldn’t explain it, but there were times I wondered if she could read my mind, like she somehow knew exactly what I was thinking.

  “Is this your honeymoon? Or anniversary?”

  I peered over my shoulder and noticed she had set my cards on the counter between us. I released Maggie and turned to pick them up. “No, just a road trip.” I pulled Maggie closer. “My girl recently graduated from college, so I decided to kidnap her for the weekend and stop here as a surprise.”

  No matter how hard I fought against it, my lips split into the biggest grin I’d worn in years.

  “That’s so sweet. I don’t remember the last time George did something like that for me. Then again…it’s not like we’ve had the option. Last winter, he had a heart attack.” She placed her frail hand over her chest and took a moment to collect herself. I had expected her to say he had passed away, so I was pleasantly surprised when she added, “Luckily, I was able to call my niece and have her help me out around here until he got better. It was hard for a while, though. If I’d had my way, I would’ve been with him every day, but running this place by myself didn’t leave me with that option. I’m just thankful I was able to find someone to lend a hand.”

  “You don’t have a staff?”

  “Oh, no. We had nothing but problems when we did, and eventually, we realized it was more work to go behind them than it would be if we just managed it ourselves. So, it’s just George and me taking care of this place—aside from the employees who work at the bar. Although, we do hire a cleaning company who comes in every morning to tend to the rooms after guests leave, and someone who tends to the pool. We don’t deal with those kinds of things.”

  “Wow,” Maggie whispered, clearly in awe of what she heard. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must be.”

  The woman—whose name I learned was May by the receipt she handed me—beamed with a distant twinkle in her eyes. “We’ve done it this way for so long. For the most part, we can’t even remember what it’s like to have help, and honestly, I’m not sure we’d know what to do with it if we had it.”

  When May passed me two key cards, she recited her song and dance about the bar and to call her if we needed anything—the same speech I’d heard last time—and then we left. Maggie no longer seemed to be high-strung or anxious, which played in my favor for what I planned next.

  After leaving the office, I turned right while Maggie went left. She wouldn’t go far since I had the room and truck keys, so unless she planned to spend the evening sitting on the curb or lounging by the pool, she’d follow.

  “Talon…” Her voice hiccupped between the syllables. The pain that echoed in the outdoor hallway became a brick wall, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  Slowly, I pivoted on my heel until we faced each other. I held my breath until my lungs burned, and as soon as I recognized the apprehension in her eyes, I blew it out and rushed to her. It was as if the only option I had was to comfort her. Instinct told me to make sure she was okay, so I did.

  “Are you doing this to punish
me?” Tears garbled her words, even though they were absent from her eyes. If I’d only heard her, I would’ve assumed she was crying. “I believed you out there”—she pointed to the parking lot behind her—“about confronting the past. But why do this? Why make me go in there?”

  I held her arm, cradling her elbow in my palm. “Because it’s after five and I’m starving. We’ve been up—well, I’ve been up—all day, and if we plan to get on the road early again tomorrow, I’m gonna need to get to bed at a reasonable time.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that.”

  I glanced over my shoulder toward the bar, then met her stare, prepared to give her the truth. “Okay, so maybe there’s a little more to it than that. Except none of my reasons include punishing you. I don’t want to fight or point fingers. No blame, no judgment. And while, yes, I’m hungry, probably the biggest reason for getting dinner here is so we can resolve this. I’m trying to make it so that room”—I pointed over her shoulder at nothing in particular—“or that booth”—and then hitched my thumb behind me toward the bar—“can no longer control how I feel. I’m tired of thinking about these places and my memories being tainted by what happened years ago.”

  “And then what, Talon? We put all our cards on the table, get answers, understand each other better…and then what’s the plan? You take me home tomorrow and I never see you again? And all this was so you can sleep better at night?”

  I rested my hand on her shoulder and grazed her jaw with the pad of my thumb. “There isn’t a plan for after this, Maggie. It’s impossible to make one. All I can give you are my reasons and the outcome I’m after—which is to end the anger I’ve held onto since the last time we were here. I have no idea what will happen between us come Monday morning.”

  “I want to trust you…”

  I sighed and closed my eyes, my chin dropping toward my chest when I bowed my head. And without lifting it or finding her gaze, I admitted, “That’s why I’m asking for us to see this through, Maggie. That’s why I’d like to go to the bar, sit in that same booth, and hash this out.” I opened my eyes, needing to see her when I added, “Because I want to trust you, too.”

  “I guess I don’t understand why we have to relive it all to do that.”

  “Maybe we don’t, but it’s the only way to overwrite what happened. So that when I think about this place—anything about it—hopefully, I won’t remember how betrayed I felt, or the resentment that lived inside me for years. And without the connection between this motel, this town, and that night…eventually, I’ll forget.”

  Resignation weighted her lids until she nodded. “Fine, I’ll go with you—under one condition. If I’m uncomfortable, I have the right to leave without you holding that against me.”

  “As long as you tell me that’s what you’re doing…and you don’t leave with my truck or car, then deal. But please, don’t just run off. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable and give me a chance to fix it before you give up and walk out.”

  Again, she nodded, so I took her hand and escorted her into the bar.

  It must’ve been written in the stars, because the booth in the corner sat empty. It wasn’t too busy, but I was surprised to see how many people occupied tables—all in various stages of eating. I made sure the keys and my phone were in my pocket, not in Maggie’s reach. It wasn’t that I assumed she’d do it again. I guess I’d done it more out of precaution than anything. And luckily, she hadn’t noticed—if she had, she didn’t say a word about it.

  Silently, we both browsed the menu. When the waitress stopped, we each ordered a water—although, if I intended to discuss anything of value with her, we probably should’ve asked for something containing alcohol. Then again, if that happened, I wasn’t sure we’d get much talking done.

  As soon as we’d placed our dinner order, I folded our menus and tucked them behind the condiments against the wall. It was obvious she wasn’t excited about our stroll down memory lane, and to be honest, neither was I. She’d have questions, just like I did, and no matter how much easier it would’ve made everything, I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. So I gave her a moment—and took one myself—before getting to the bottom of this.

  “Walk me through what happened, Maggie.” I pressed my palms against the top of the table and leaned forward. I didn’t want to intimidate her, or give her any reason to be scared, and I figured if my hands were where she could see them, and she could look into my eyes as I spoke, she would feel safe.

  “Am I supposed to detail everything over the last four years?”

  “No. Well, eventually, but that’s not what I’m asking for right now.”

  “You’re going to have to just ask, Talon. I can’t read minds.” It made me laugh, because I believed otherwise.

  “I’m talking about the last time we were here. We had sex, took a shower, and then sat in this booth. I was pissed at myself for taking things that far with you after I swore I wouldn’t, and you calmed me down. You looked me in the eyes and told me I was a good person. And then you vanished.”

  “We already went over that. Why rehash it again?”

  “Because I still can’t grasp when this all happened. How you could tell me that, then get up and leave. You got up from the table with your bag and my keys, which was maybe thirty seconds after telling me how great of a guy I was.”

  She leaned against the seat, and my heart reacted to the slow rise and sharp fall of her chest. “My phone vibrated in my bag while we were talking. It had distracted me, and in order to get through what I needed to say to you, I ignored it. I assumed they were more messages like the ones I’d already seen, and I chose to reassure you before reading them.”

  I hadn’t forgotten about my mood when we’d gotten to the bar. Although, I hadn’t given that particular part of the night much thought over the years—I’d been too consumed with what had taken place after. Aside from her comment about my character, I hadn’t sat back and analyzed my reasons for the temperament I’d displayed that night.

  At the time, I hated how quickly I had given in, and I’d believed that sleeping with her had lessened her value in some way. She’d deserved better, and I hadn’t proven that to her. Now, taking everything into account, I was able to see what I’d been blind to at that moment. Anything long term with her hadn’t been a possibility. It was what had driven me to help her—knowing there was a definite end to our time together. Yet somehow, the idea of being with her longer appealed to me. It became a dream I would’ve done anything to make happen, especially after we’d slept together. And the fact that it could never happen had taken me from cloud nine to the lowest point in hell.

  “So, when you said all those things about how you didn’t regret what we did, and how it didn’t change your opinion of me…you hadn’t seen the texts?” I needed to hear her say it. I’d spent far too long questioning everything she’d told me over those couple of days, and what—if anything—was sincere.

  “Not the ones that made me leave, no.”

  Still, there was no way to decipher if what she said was true. My only option was to trust her, which had been the purpose of this in the first place. And in order to do that, I had to release the defiance and just let it play out the way it was meant to.

  “And then you drove all the way to Florida on your own? In a car you had trouble driving the day before?” It wasn’t that I doubted her or accused her of lying. Clearly, I knew that was what she’d done—she’d left without me, we hadn’t been with anyone else, and I’d found the car at her grandfather’s house. Still, I needed to ask, if for no other reason than to understand.

  “Yes. I stopped at a rest area and slept for a couple hours; other than that, I drove straight through. And I didn’t say it was easy. I stalled many times, but as long as I wasn’t in traffic and didn’t have to worry about red lights or stop signs, I was fine.”

  While on the road today—mostly during the few hours she’d slept—I’d mentally made a list of all the questions I’d thoug
ht to ask. Yet now, I couldn’t come up with half of them. The only ones that still swirled around in my head required a soft approach, a lead-in before dropping them in her lap. If only I could remember them, because now, I was left with no option but to fire them off and hope she wouldn’t run away.

  Last night, she’d kept staring at the window next to the recliner. At the time, I couldn’t begin to figure it out, yet after she told me about the guy who’d broken in after her grandfather died, I had a feeling the two had somehow been connected.

  I reached across the table and offered my hand, hoping she’d give me hers. And when she did—hesitantly—I readied myself to delve into a more painful question. “Were you alone in the house when the intruder broke in?”

  “Yes.” Everything about her from her posture to her eyes proved she was a survivor, despite the residual fear that hung in her voice. “I’d just come up from the dock. I hadn’t seen him at first, but once I had the door locked behind me, he was right there.”

  My confusion must’ve been obvious, because she closed her mouth and stared. It wasn’t that her story didn’t make sense—hell, I hadn’t been there—but I’d assumed something slightly different. I’d guessed that he had broken in through the window, which she would’ve seen before going inside if she’d used the back door like she said. Granted, I had also expected it to have been at night, while she was asleep, so it was clear I had pictured something vastly different than the nightmare she’d lived through.

  “Go ahead,” I prodded while stroking my thumb over her knuckles.

  “There’s really nothing else to tell, Talon. I came inside, he was there, we had a physical altercation, and I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Yesterday was the first time I’d been in that house since it happened.”