Pieces (6 page)

“Of course it’s okay. Jason and I haven’t driven it for months now, so it’ll be good for you to take it out.” She tilted her head and her eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

“Up the coast.” She adjusted the backpack on her shoulders and leaned against the doorway, wishing she had driven her own car back from Harvard instead of flying home.

With a glance at her watch, her mother frowned. “How far up the coast? It’s two-thirty.”

“I don’t know. I might go shopping if I get as far as San Francisco. I can stop for dinner somewhere.”

Her mother’s frown deepened. “That’s getting pretty far from the coast.”

Naomi knew what was going through her mind. That far north was dangerously close to Berkeley. “Maybe I’ll just go to Santa Cruz. I have my phone. You can call me. Come on, Mom, you were telling me I need to get out. So, I’m getting out.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Her mother looked her up and down, checked her watch again, and then wheeled her chair closer to the desk once more. “Alright, you can have the Mercedes for the day, but please be back by ten or we’ll worry. Your father doesn’t like it when we don’t know where you are or when you’ll be back.” She paused. “I don’t, either.”

“I promise I’ll be safe.” She narrowed her eyes. “How the heck do you two deal with me gone all year at school?”

“That’s different, I guess. You’re in your own house near campus, and you’re so busy with schoolwork you probably don’t go out much. Right?”

“You make it sound like my life is pretty lame there.” She looked away. “But yeah, you’re right.”

Her mother leaned forward. Naomi could see her fighting to say something, but then she bit her lip and steadied her hands on the desk. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be fine, Mom. I’ll be in the car most of the time, and I can drive safely. I did this all last summer, remember?”

“Yes, I know.”

But Jesse wasn’t on parole last summer, Naomi reminded herself before turning to leave. She didn’t know if she was going to go as far as San Francisco, but her heart beat faster at the thought of being able to do such a thing—even if it was against the law for him to see her. Somehow that made her want to see him more.

VI

O
NCE SHE WAS ON THE COASTAL HIGHWAY,
Naomi cranked up the stereo and rolled down her window to let the wind blow through her hair. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like if Jesse had never helped her escape. She could be in Italy with him and the others. She might have learned to live a normal life there, forgotten she was held captive as they took her on trips through Europe and spent the money they had stolen. No jobs. No school. She wondered what it would have been like and how she could still think it might have been a good thing, or how it would have been possible. A different identity, maybe? Knowing Jesse and his connections, that was probably how they would have accomplished it. They were criminals. They were insane thinking they could live the rest of their lives like a vacation. Despite everything, she yearned to see them again. In so many ways, they were victims too, especially Evelyn. At least she would be out in fifteen years if she didn’t do anything stupid. That wasn’t too much of her life to lose.

Naomi’s iPod switched to a song that made her take her foot off the gas. It was the same song she and Finn had danced to at the club. Its pounding bass thumped through the car and the muscles in her body ached, as if they wanted her to stop the car and get out so she could move like she had on the dance floor.

No.

No more Finn.

It was all Jesse now. The kiss had been a mistake, and she would tell Jesse she was sorry.

She glanced at her camera equipment in the backseat, her resolve breaking. She had no intention of stopping to take pictures. She was on autopilot, heading straight for Berkeley.

T
WO HOURS
later, she was rubbing the tops of her aching thighs with one hand. She wasn’t used to sitting in a car for so long, even with the cruise control engaged. She was in Berkeley now, and after stopping to fill up the car, she drove to James’s apartment. It was a clean, quiet street. James’s building was yellow.

Naomi imagined what it might be like to see Jesse again. Frightening. Surreal. From what she understood, it wasn’t illegal for
her
to seek him out, but she still wanted to be careful. Maybe she was wrong. Getting him in trouble wasn’t her intention. She only wanted to see him, even if it was from afar. Her mother had hinted he would have a job, so if she waited long enough, she might see him coming or going. Then she would ... well, she wasn’t sure.

Parking the Mercedes across the street, she undid her seatbelt and stared at the third-floor apartment where James lived. What now? She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as her stomach started to growl. She hadn’t eaten lunch, and now it was five o’clock. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have stopped for something to eat earlier, or at least brought something to snack on. When it came to Jesse, she didn’t think clearly.

Maybe there was something in the glove box. She leaned over and popped it open. There were insurance papers, a pen, some napkins, and a box of Good & Plenty. That was surprising. She had no idea who liked them—her father or her mother, since they both used this car. She tore open the box and dumped some of the candies into her mouth, her mind stuck on the fact that she had no idea what kind of candy her parents liked. One of them liked licorice, apparently. Or maybe neither of them did since the candy hadn’t been opened. It was stale now, but it still tasted good. She chewed it, letting the gritty sugar coat her mouth as she watched James’s apartment like she was some sort of stalker. For a moment, she considered leaving, but as soon as she saw Jesse, it all faded away.

She almost didn’t recognize him behind the wheel of his father’s green pickup truck. His hair was longer than she remembered. For a moment, her head spun. She dropped the box in her hands and it fell to the floor, spilling the pink and white candies everywhere. He was parking almost directly across the street from her now. As stupid as it was, she hadn’t planned this far. Now he was getting out of the truck.

She had long since rolled up her window and turned on the air conditioning, so it wasn’t as if she could yell to him. Instead, she opened her door as fast as she could and tripped over her feet as she stumbled out onto the road. She shut the door and the sound made Jesse stop and look up. His mouth dropped open.

“Naomi?”

“I heard you were on parole.” She brushed a sweaty hand across her forehead. “I ... I—”

“I’m not allowed to see you,” he interrupted, taking a step back. His hand lingered on the open truck door. “I’ll be sent back to prison if I attempt to contact you or see you. I’m not even sure I can see you after my parole is over. It might be a long time.” He looked at the ground. “I have a hearing next week. I’ll find out more then.”

Even from across the street, Naomi could see the muscle in his jaw tightening with anger. She knew it wasn’t aimed at her. “You aren’t attempting,” she said. “I’ve taken the initiative, so it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, but if my parole officer finds out about this, he won’t be happy. I was lucky enough to be released to my father. If you’re found here, I’ll be in more trouble than you can imagine.” His face was stiff, his body tense. Naomi realized what a mistake she had made, but there he was, right in front of her. It was too much. She took a step forward, relieved the road was quiet with no traffic at the moment. Jesse glanced down the street, then back to her. His expression softened as she walked toward him. Each step was heavy, as if she didn’t believe she would ever reach him.

“Naomi,” he said when she was halfway across the road, “I have an impeccable record so far. It’s why I was put on parole so early. If I ....” His voice trailed off as she stepped closer. The need in his eyes was apparent now. He was lonely and tired and desperate for her— that much she could see as he rushed forward and took her into his arms before she could reach him on her own. He kissed her hard on the mouth, his lips as steady and passionate as she remembered. The kiss blossomed around her, his breaths deeper as he squeezed her so tightly she almost ran out of breath.

He pulled out of the kiss. “I missed you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I missed you too. I need you. I couldn’t stay away. I’m sorry.” Burying her face in his shoulder, she let herself melt against him despite the sharp, bitter smell of grease and dust on his skin. Being in his arms felt so good she thought she might start crying with joy.

He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. “Naomi, I know you want to stay with me, but I have to ... I have to get you back in your car. You have to leave.”

She pulled away and nodded. Her nose was starting to run. He always made her cry. Nobody had seen her cry as much as he had. It should have been embarrassing, but a part of her felt more attached to him because of it. He knew her weakest spots and how to patch them up when she couldn’t do it herself. He knew her better than anyone.

Guiding her back to the Mercedes, he kept an arm around her. She sensed he didn’t want to let her go, but one of the reasons she loved him was because of his desire to do the right thing. It was why he had gone to prison, and sometimes she wondered if it was all for her, or if none of it was.

He peeked into the backseat. “You told your mother you were taking pictures, didn’t you?”

Blushing, she opened the door. “Yes.”

“And you drove straight here without stopping to eat.”

She looked up. “How did you—”

“Why else would you be eating licorice right now?” he asked, laughing. “You do realize I hate licorice, right?”

“You do?” It was something she hadn’t known about him, but then again, she hadn’t known him that long in the grand scheme of things. Not that it mattered.

He leaned forward and licked his lips. “Yes, I do, but I’ll kiss you again anyway. I’d kiss you forever, even if you tasted like licorice every time.”

“How brave of you,” she replied with a laugh. He kissed her again, not as passionately this time, but enough to make her breathless once more. She wrapped her arms around him as she leaned halfway into the car through the open door. Jesse kept her steady, and she ran her hands down his arms, noticing he was more toned than before.

“Jesse,” she said between kisses. “Where are you working?”

He stopped kissing her and smiled. “At a construction site. I wear a hardhat all day.” He looked down at her hands on his biceps. “I also worked out in prison.”

She frowned. “You’re qualified for better work than construction. Why—”

“Because I took what I could get, Naomi. It doesn’t look so great to would-be employers when they see a two-year, jobless gap on my resume. And I have to report that I’m on parole. It might be a long time before I can get back into architecture with a good firm. I could try freelancing or starting my own company, but that would take more money than I have—to do it right, anyway.”

Money. It always came back to that. She looked away. “I didn’t mean it’s bad you’re working construction. I meant—”

He put a finger to her lips and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You don’t need to worry about any of this. Things will work out. They will always work out for you and me.”

The intensity in his voice put her on edge for a moment, but she pushed it aside as he kissed her again. She forgot his fumbled words and worried looks. She forgot about the Mercedes and the licorice and prison and being kidnapped. There was only Jesse, his strong arms around her, the way he ignored the taste of licorice in her mouth, the way he held her so tightly she knew he would sacrifice anything for her.

“Jesse!”

He ripped away from her, backing up so fast she stumbled into the open Mercedes and scraped her ankle on the gravel. She cried out, looking down to see blood beading across her torn skin. Jesse was back by his truck now, his eyes widening as he looked at her ankle and then turned to his father marching down the walkway from the apartment complex. The two looked so alike, it was uncanny. Naomi blinked and steadied herself as James walked around the front of the truck, his attention darting from her to Jesse.

“Explain yourself,” he growled at Jesse. It was the first time Naomi had ever seen him angry. He was usually so calm.

Jesse shut the truck’s door and faced his father. “It’s nothing. I was helping Naomi back into the car so she could leave. I told her she couldn’t be here. We were kissing goodbye and that’s it.”

Naomi raised an eyebrow. More like making out goodbye.

“Damn straight she can’t be here.” James whirled around to face her, but the distance from across the street undermined the threat in his eyes.

“Naomi, I understand why you would want to come here, but when I told your mother about Jesse and asked her to inform you he was on parole, it was so you’d understand not to come here anymore. Surely, your mother informed you Jesse is not allowed to see you. Do you want him back in prison?” He turned to Jesse. “Did you have anything to do with this?”