Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys (11 page)

She nodded, and said very quietly, “The Rothland U didn’t do anything. They claimed these weren’t their students but only some guys who wore the shirts.”

“What did the FBI and the police do?”

“They had no solid proof. I worked with the sketch artist, but I only saw the face of the actual murderer when he looked up at me. It was dark in that alley. The only light was at the end of it and it shone on his face when he glanced up. So I honestly wouldn’t be able to identify anyone except for that one guy. Him I won’t ever forget.”
 

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “The investigation is still going on. Let’s just hope they will get him and the rest of those sons of bitches.”

I put the truck in gear and looked in the side mirror for the upcoming traffic before moving the vehicle off the shoulder.

Chapter Eleven

ETHAN
 

We drove for the rest of the way in silence. Lisbeth huddled in her seat, with her back to me, turned toward the passenger window. Maybe she was sleeping, or maybe just watching the scenery alongside the road.
 

I took the exit to Highway 101 South. We were getting close to our destination. I visited the cabin often, whenever I wanted some time for myself, away from the busy city, my demanding job, my loud, ever-present family, and everything else. I’ve never brought any woman there though. This was my man cave—a sort of sanctuary I needed to escape to. And now I wanted this to be an escape for Lisbeth too.
 

It’s been a while, but she didn’t change her position. I hoped she was asleep, and if so, that would be the blessing for her. She was an emotional mess, which was understandable after all she’s recently gone through. I sympathized, since I had my own demons from the past that still very much hunted me.
 

There was a certain parallel in what she and I have lived through: Lisbeth witnessed her girlfriend’s brutal rape and murder; I would never forget Najia, the Afghan girl raped and beaten to death. Have our paths crossed for a reason? Were we to help and heal one another? I shook my head, scolding myself for trying to see what wasn’t there.
 

I turned to NE Devil’s Lake Road, instantly feeling the familiar tranquility envelop me. This place held many happy memories from my childhood. And fishing was always great here.
 

Devil’s Lake was close to the Pacific Ocean, and so it wasn’t a truly secluded place, but my cabin stood in the less-explored area. The locals kept to themselves for the most part. My family owned four cabins in different places around the Lake, but mine was the most private of them all, because it sat of three lots.
 

The afternoon sun sparkled on the almost smooth surface of the Lake. There were a few boats, sleepily rocking in the water. Two kayaks sat in the middle, the people in them basking in the sun. Mid-August was a great time to come here, because most of the town festivities were organized in July, and now the area started to quiet down.
 

A thicket of tall pine trees welcomed me as I drove the truck toward my cabin. The driveway was covered with pine needles. Small rocks crunched under my truck’s tires. My log cabin stood quiet, with the Lake in its background.
 

I stopped the truck in front of the garage, which was my latest building project. The old carport I had here before was an eye sore and had to get replaced with a proper garage.
 

I glanced at Lisbeth, but she didn’t move or say anything. She was probably deeply asleep. I almost shook her shoulder to wake her up, but I decided to let her sleep a few minutes longer until I unloaded everything. I pressed the button on the garage door remote that I had clipped onto my truck visor. The door rolled up, screeching a little as if in a protest to be put to work. I drove the truck in.

I got out and quietly closed the driver’s door. Lisbeth still didn’t wake up.
 

The cabin was a good size for three or four people, although I often had more members of my family here at once. There were three small bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs, plus another bathroom on the main floor, where the kitchen and the rec room were located. Everything I needed for a few days of a peaceful escape was here, including an extra bed sheets, towels, and all kitchen necessities.
 

I closed the garage doors and unfastened and carried each of two coolers into the garage. A small chest freezer stood next to the washer and dryer. On the other side, were a rack of weights and the workout bench.
 

The freezer was plugged in, although not much was left in it—some bread, hamburger buns, and several containers of mixed frozen berries that made killer shakes. I transferred all frozen foods and ice bags from the coolers into the freezer, and then unlocked the door leading from the garage to the inside of the cabin.
 

When our backpacks and large jugs of water were in, I walked around to the passenger side. Lisbeth was sleeping with her face near the window. I stopped to look at her. Her eyes were tightly closed, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, and I could see her chest rising and falling slowly. Long strands of wavy hair escaped from her ponytail and clung to her face, trembling in the breeze of her breath.
 

There was something very peaceful in this scene, and I didn’t want to disrupt it. I considered carrying Lisbeth inside, but I quickly dismissed that idea as weird. She would have thought I was some crazy maniac.
 

Before I made a move to open her side door, her eyelids fluttered and lifted. She blinked a few times and focused her eyes on me. We stared at each other for a long moment, until I wrapped my fingers around the door handle and slowly pulled on it.
 

“We’re here,” I said quietly, as if not to disturb the air of sleep that embraced her.
 

Lisbeth sat up and looked around, blinking. She yawned and asked, “I can get out of the truck, right?”

I nodded and then did something my mom would be ridiculously proud of—I actually offered Lisbeth my hand to grab onto. She did and thanked me, but she let go off me as soon as her boots touched the ground, as if my skin burned her. Maybe it did.

She walked out of the garage and spun around, her eyes round. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” Her voice was full of genuine awe. She looked at me. “So calm and quiet.”

As soon as she said that, a roar of a jet ski came from the direction of the lake, and we both laughed. She seemed to be in much better spirits now, which I was glad for.
 

“Early mornings are the best around this area, when everyone is still asleep. The afternoons—not so much,” I commented.
 

“Makes sense. Do you drink coffee in the morning?”
 

“Sure do. You?” I said.

“Yes. Black?”

“Black. You?”

“With milk.” She nodded.
 

“Okay. I’ve got your backpack. Let’s go inside, I will show you around.” I motioned for her to follow me.
 

Chapter Twelve

LISBETH
 

This was so much better than hiding in the underground panic room in that old warehouse. But was it safe? No, I wasn’t safe anywhere as long as
they
were after me.
 

I stood outside on a small deck, looking at the shimmering in the sun water of the Devil’s Lake. A few kayaks and small boats bobbed here and there. The jet ski we heard before was gone, and so it was quiet and peaceful. I took a lungful of breath and held it in, enjoying the calm that enveloped me. I could stay like this forever.

But I had to call my lawyer, Jessica Leothon. I took the cell phone out of my pocket and pressed the power button on. I switched the phone off a few hours before, right after I called her this morning, not wanting to talk with her or anyone else for as long as possible. Not that anyone else would know this number. Only Jessica and the FBI knew it. The number was restricted, the phone issued by the Bureau. Maybe I should’ve returned it when I said I’m withdrawing from the witness protection program. But I didn’t have another one, and I needed to be able to call Jessica. Or whomever…
 

I remembered the cards Special Agents Drasco and Cornell gave me. I dug in my pants pocket—Chris’s pants actually—and pulled the cards out.
 

I examined the Special Agent Drasco’s card. The round, stamp-like Bureau’s logo was displayed in the upper left corner, and the U.S. DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE was printed in large, capital letters on top, with the FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION in a smaller font under it. In the middle of the card was positioned his name, JEFFREY DRASCO, and underneath were two lines, in a much smaller print: SPECIAL AGENT, and PORTLAND DIVISION. Then there was his office address in the left lower corner: 1288 OLD MAIN PKWY SE, STE 303, PORTLAND, OR, and in the right lower corner another three lines were displayed: TELEPHONE (458) 555-5444, FAX (458) 555-5443, and his email: [email protected]. Above the phone number, someone handwritten X2022, his extension number.

Special Agent Cornell’s business card looked exactly the same. The only difference was his name—ROBERT CORNELL, and his email address—[email protected]. There was a handwritten X2031 above the phone number as well.
 

I put the cards back in my pocket and looked at my cell phone screen. There were two missed calls from Jessica and a voicemail. I sighed. I didn’t want to listen to it, but, nevertheless I needed to put my big girl’s panties on and go through the inevitable.
 

As I suspected, it was a short message, delivered in Jessica’s professional, measured voice. It instructed me to call her right away. I was sure the FBI put a pressure on her to convince me to go back.
 

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to enjoy the serenity around me for a moment longer. Then I dialed Jessica’s cell phone.
 

She answered on the first ring, “Gloria! Where are you? How could you disappear like that? The FBI won’t tell me anything!”

“Calm down,” I told her. “And stop yelling, or I will hang up.”

“Gloria, I need to know where you went. You know you’re in danger. I think you should have stayed in the program,” she said sternly.

“Why should I stay? Yes, I’ve been in danger ever since I witnessed Helen raped and murdered. Obviously, the FBI can’t protect me. Don’t you get it, Jessica? The gang found me. They blew up the safe house. How
safe
was it really? You want me to hang around and wait for them to actually succeed?”

She went silent. For a moment I thought we got disconnected. “Jessica, are you there?”

“I am,” her voice sounded strained. Maybe she really cared about me more than I thought. “Look, the Bureau’s investigating the incident. They
will
find out how it was possible for you to be located.”

“Tell you what then. When the Bureau finds out and the threat is removed, let me know, and I might reconsider.
 
Until then, I’m not going back.”
 

She sighed. “I understand that. But where are you? Do you have a safe place to stay? I’m really worried about you, kiddo.”

“Safer than the warehouse was,” I said quietly. I could only hope the gang wouldn’t somehow find me here. “Listen, I’ll be in touch. I gotta go now.”

“Gloria, please be careful!”

“I am.” I hung up. Was I careful, putting all my trust in a man I didn’t even know? But what other choice did I have?

I sat down on the warm wood of the dock, drawing my legs close to my chest and encircling them with my arms. I rested my chin on top of my knees and watched the water gently lapping against the tiny marina. There was so much serenity in this place, so much peace. I felt safe. I
wanted
to feel safe. I wanted to live without the threat of getting hurt, or worse—dying. Would I ever?

I heard steps behind me and turned my head to see Ethan standing in front of the dock, hands in his pockets, looking at something in the distance. I followed his gaze, but didn’t see anything alarming. Just a few boats still lazily bobbed on the Lake.
 

“It’s so pretty here,” I said.
 

He walked up and sat down next to me. “It is. This is my escape.”

“Your special hiding spot. Thank you for bringing me here.”
 

He looked at me with those dark, piercing eyes. “It’s a good place to hide. From anything one needs to.”
 

My heart skipped a beat and then another. I wished Ethan stopped looking at me. His gaze was mesmerizing. I felt a strange tingle in my body. I couldn’t move, not that I even tried. It was probably just a few seconds before he glanced away, but it felt like hours and it left me so confused.
 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.
 

“No, that burrito I had was huge.” I grinned, thinking of how great it tasted and how messy it was.
 

He looked back at me, smiling. Oh, no—those eyes were spellbinding me again. I quickly averted my gaze. The boats and the water were much safer to concentrate on.