What I've Done (11 page)

“I’m not who you think I am, Gabe. My family is not perfect and I am not some sweet and innocent girl that you would want to take home to meet your parents.”

“Perfection is overrated,” he answers, his deep voice at its most gentle. “And maybe I’m not who you think I am, either. What would you say to that?”

I turn to see him staring intently at me. I want to stomp my foot just as Rose always does the few times she is actually mad about something, but know it would be juvenile of me so I hold back.

“You don’t understand. I can’t…I don’t have time to date like other girls.”

He crosses his muscular arms across his chest and leans back into his chair. “Why not?”

“Because Rose needs me, and we don’t need anyone else.”

A moment passes before I realize I had used my little sister’s real name and I hold my breath, waiting for him to ask who Rose is. I have become too comfortable with him and should not have allowed myself to slip like that.

“You may think you don’t need anyone else, but you do,” he answers, his voice still gentle. At least he doesn’t ask about my mistake, but it is so frustrating how he continues trying to be so agreeable when I am trying to prove to him I am damaged goods. I am about ready to tell him I don’t need his help when my eyes drift to the television above the bar.

Displayed across the large screen, in full color, there is a picture of my dead mother.

CHAPTER 5

The mug shot on the television is from a few years ago when we still owned a car and my mother had been arrested for drunk driving. She had not yet started taking drugs at the time but her face was covered with red patches from drinking too much alcohol and her eyes drooped from lack of sleep. At the time her hair was a horrible shade of black from a cheap dye job. By the way her jaw is completely slack in the picture I wonder if she had still been drunk when it was taken.

The waitress steps in to ask if we are ready to order, blocking my view of the television.

“I’ll have lemonade,” I blurt.

Gabe makes a slight crease in his eyebrows when he looks at me. “Don’t you want a shake or something? They have excellent ice cream here.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say. “I’ll take a chocolate one.”

While Gabe orders I lean back slightly to look at the television again and my breath becomes trapped in my throat. Side by side pictures of Rose and me are now on the screen. When the camera cuts to the male anchor I cannot hear what is being said, but they show our pictures again with a phone number flashing under our faces. Just as the news show transitions to a different story, Gabe and the waitress finish their exchange and she leaves us alone again.

Every nerve in my body seems to be heightened on alarm and I am pretty sure my face has become void of color. They are showing our pictures in San Diego, which means they know my mother died and we are on the run. It will probably only be a matter of time before someone recognizes the two of us.

We are no longer safe.

Gabe frowns when looking at me. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

My mouth opens to answer him but it’s as if I have forgotten how to form the words. Gabe leans across the table and pulls both of my hands into his. The shock and warming sensation together snap me back into the moment.

“What is the matter, Tasha?”

Deep down I know I can probably trust him, but the stubborn survivor in me wins out, deciding there is no one who can know the truth about us—not when a drug dealer and a social worker from home are most likely looking for us. Death and possible separation from my sister are both pretty high stakes to be gambling with.

I take my hands away from his with my mind made up and glance at my phone as if I received some kind of urgent message. “I have to go.” My voice is flat and I stand up almost robotically.

He stands beside me. “I’ll go with you.”

Everything around me is reduced to a blur on the walk back to Kalia’s shop. My feet seem to move by themselves as I have fallen into a trance. I only vaguely feel Gabe’s hand pressed up against mine.

Kalia, who is standing in the middle of another group of young male customers, seems surprised to see us back so soon. “Well that was quick.”

I bite my lip nervously. “Kalia, I hate to ditch on my first day here, but there’s a family emergency and I really have to go.”

Kalia shrugs. “No problem. I just hope everything is okay.”

“I’m sure it will be,” I answer. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

My worries continue to invade me as I walk away. Who had seen the pictures of us on the television? Were they showing our pictures on the news stations in Minnesota, too? If the person missing their money learns we are in California, they will most certainly come looking for us.

Between our foster parents, the police and the social worker, there are too many people that know we are homeless and it won’t take long for them to put the two together. I need to form a new plan to keep us safe. My first clear thought is to check to make sure the money is still where I left it before I grab Rose and split town.

I round the corner to the entrance of the public bathroom to discover Gabe leaning against the building. I nearly jump out my skin in surprise. “Gabe! You scared me! How did you get here so fast?”

His expression is blank. “Where do you think you’re going?”

There is a hint of something dark in his voice and his direct behavior frightens me. It is so unlike the gentle and caring guy I have spent the last few weeks with. My instincts cause me to take a step away from him.

“I’m not your problem to fix,” I tell him. “Just stay out of this.”

“Why do you think you need fixing?” There is an annoying hint of humor deep in his eyes.

I snap my eyes away from his. “Like I said, you don’t know me, Gabe. And I promise you, my life is not anything you want to get too involved in. Just walk away.”

He pulls on my arm so I will look at him. “And you don’t know me either. I don’t care what it is you are running from. Whether you decide you can trust me or not, I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not when it is so painfully obvious that something has you very frightened.”

I watch him carefully, wondering what it is he thinks he is on to. “How long have you known?”

He shrugs, taking a step closer. “Awhile, but that doesn’t matter. Whatever it is you’re running from, I want to help you.”

His open display of affection and concern for me are admittedly flattering and I am most definitely drawn to him. I yearn all at once to have his arms around me and hear him say everything will be okay—there hasn’t been anyone to tell me that since I was a little girl and for some reason I wish Gabe would be the one to do it.

“There are so many things I want to tell you,” I say. I am tired of trying to hide everything and want to be able to confide in him.

He looks down on me, his face soft with care. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“My sister and I are in foster care,” I say, a lone tear falling down my cheek. I figure that one secret is safe enough to give him. “Both of my parents are dead.”

He reaches up to wipe my tear with his thumb and allows his hand to settle on the side of my face. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to help me,” I whisper as more tears spill down my face. “My life is very complicated and I don’t want to drag you into it.”

He smiles and pulls me into his chest with the gentlest of intentions. “I don’t mind a little dragging. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

I don’t argue any more when he wraps his arms around me.

* * *

My second day of school goes just as seamlessly as the first. Svetlana and Rose drop me off near the shop afterwards. Rose is very animated on the short ride, filling us in with every detail about her new classmates and teacher who she obviously adores already. I beam happily the entire time she speaks. I love that she has adjusted so well and seems truly happy.

When I arrive at the shop my new boss is wearing another outlandishly skimpy outfit but I smile brightly when she greets me. I help rearrange displays and dress mannequins while Kalia helps more customers that are mainly of the male species. A few boys too young to be running around without adult supervision are among those to stop in and they push each other around, arguing over who will actually talk with her. I find their interest in Kalia amusing and it proves to be great entertainment.

When my mind begins to drift during the slower part of the afternoon, I realize that I have yet to figure out a way to get some kind of legal identification if I am going to work toward getting my sister back. I would also feel better if we had something, should we have to leave town on short notice. With pictures of our family being displayed on the local news that could happen at any moment and I need to be better prepared.

In Minnesota my mother knew a woman who used to help her boyfriend make fake identifications for criminals. I heard them talking once about how it cost a lot of money and I knew she used to hang out in the scary parts of town where it was just as easy to score drugs. It is probably the best chance I have of getting what I needed, even though it has the potential of being dangerous.

While Kalia is busy with ogling customers, I Google the most crime-ridden areas in the city on the shop’s computer. The more dangerous the area, the more likely I am to find someone that can help me. I memorize directions to a nearby neighborhood and tell Kalia I have some errands to run when it is time for my break.

Some of the neighborhoods my mother had moved us to had been pretty rough, so it doesn’t take too much extra courage for me to stroll through the areas known for having more criminals. It takes a good fifteen minutes to walk to the area I chose and it appears likely suited for my mission. It would have been better if I had been able to go at night, but it would be harder for me to find an excuse that Svetlana would go along with. The small number of criminals daring enough to brave the daylight will have to be good enough.

After I walk a few blocks down the broken up streets I spot a few young boys playing basketball in an alley behind some rundown apartments. They eye me cautiously as I approach them. They are not too much taller than my waist, probably making them around eight or nine, but as they stop their game they look intimidating enough. Just as Rose is forced to act less like a six year old, these boys are similarly given no other choice but to act wise beyond their years.

“Hey, guys,” I try to sound casual as I greet them. “I’m wondering if you can help me find someone.”

They continue to stare me down until the smallest of the three steps forward with the basketball under his arm. “Depends how much money you got.”

The boy is too young to worry about shaving, but there are enough lines and scars from unknown injuries on his face that he even appears older than his true age. His white, stained tank top and ratty black gym shorts cling to his body in the late afternoon heat.

 I shrug. “I don’t have much money. I ran away from my parents and I need a new ID so I can get a job and make it on my own.” I decide a partial truth is better that a total lie. These boys obviously come from a rough neighborhood and can maybe appreciate a story in which I am trying to get away from my parents and just survive.

The boy turns to look at what could quite possibly be his older brothers, as much as they look alike. The tallest one shrugs at him and the other nods encouragingly. The shorter boy turns back to give me another once-over, from head to toe.

“Maybe Shorty can help you with that. Follow me.” He bounces the ball off the walls as we walk through the alley. “You say you’re on the run? Sure don’t look like it to me. What, your momma take away your car or something?”

I shake my head. “No. I got tired of watching her kill herself with drugs.”

As I say it I wish it had been true—that I had run away months ago when the drug use became so paralyzing in our lives. Maybe if Rose and I had left, my sister would have had a normal childhood sooner and we would have been happier. I certainly wouldn’t have hesitated if someone had told me I would live by the ocean in a grand house with a caring foster mother and have a gorgeous guy interested in helping me out.

The boy turns to check my demeanor, possibly to see if I am pulling his leg. When he reads my somber expression he finally nods in agreement. “Ain’t nobody likes to watch their momma waste away.”

We walk the rest of the distance to our destination in silence. I try not to make eye contact with the numerous people we pass along the way. Staring at people in neighborhoods like theirs only makes them suspicious. I don’t want to stand out or draw any unwanted attention.

The boy stops in front of a large blue, metal gate, holding his hand up to keep me back. “You best wait here a minute. Shorty don’t always like visitors.”

I nod to let him know I understand and stand beside the large brick wall, holding my arms tight against my body in an attempt to calm myself. The dark alley we just passed through had been void of any activity, but I could hear faint screams and yelling of different voices coming from the crumbling buildings above. The unusual scraping noises coming from the pile of garbage bins within throwing distance from where I stand aren’t very comforting, either. Even the air smells dangerous and somehow threatening.

If Gabe could see me standing in the alley at this moment I can only guess how upset he would become, if in fact he is even capable of being angry. I have only ever seen him concerned or various different degrees of happy or concerned.

I stand alone for a few minutes before a hulking mass of an older man finally comes out from the doorway the boy had disappeared into. His dark eyes nearly disappear in the thick folds of his chocolaty dark skin as he looks me up and down. He is wearing a dirty gray tank top and a pair of oversized shorts that fall down beyond his knees. There is a large lump of what I guess to be a gun under his shirt, at his waistline. I force myself to see past the primal fear burning in my chest.