Chapter 5: Haley

Saturday afternoon, April 25th

I walked into the First National Bank on Post Street, and my mind immediately flashed back to my last visit. It had only been four months since I took in the sights of San Francisco with Knox, Jackson, Ethan, and Liam, but it felt like a lifetime ago. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on it; I had less than two hours to complete this errand and make the trip across town to purchase the car.

After gaining access to the safe deposit box, I pulled out most of the cash, leaving some behind as an emergency fund for me or my dad. Extracting the documents containing my new identity, I studied them, ensuring the important details were committed to memory. Finally, I replaced my old e-mail address with the new one I created a few hours before and placed everything related to my current identity in the box.

I was no longer Haley Jones; for my own safety, as well as the guys’ and my dad’s, she no longer existed. From Kira Taylor, to Haley Jones, and now Brooke Wilson, I had gone by three different names, and this was the first time I was consciously doing so. I shut the lid, hating that a new beginning felt like such an end. The entire idea depressed me. This is the only way, I reaffirmed.

With a glance at the clock, I knew that between the distance I needed to travel and the indirect route I had to take, it was time to get going. Ever since arriving in San Francisco, I was conscious of the cameras that surrounded me everywhere in the large and well-connected city. For the moment, there was nothing I could do to disguise my appearance, especially my bulky guitar, but that didn’t mean I was going to make it easy for the guys to track me.

I walked a few blocks to the cable car stop, riding it to the end of the line, before walking several more blocks in a different direction to hail one of the many cabs racing around the city. Although it was going to be nearly impossible to vanish without a trace, I planned to do everything I could to accomplish just that.

Fortunately, navigating across the bay was relatively easy, and I entered Oakland with time to spare. The cab driver dropped me off at the park and I paid him before walking to a nearby bench to gather my courage. I hated carrying so much cash around, and my anxiety about meeting and purchasing a car from a stranger was not helping matters. At least the park was busy, full of witnesses if the need arose.

At five-forty, I was getting antsy when a man pulled up in an older Honda Civic matching the online posting. I knew if Jess ever found out about this, she’d kill me, and I didn’t think my dad or the guys would be much happier. Not their concern anymore, I thought, refusing to let myself explore my feelings on the matter.

I waited a few minutes, observing the driver to see if there were any indications that he was a creep or criminal. Finally deciding the middle-aged man seemed harmless enough, and I really did need the car, I headed over to where he leaned against the passenger door.

“You must be Reed,” I said as I approached, hoping we could get this over with quickly, and preferably without too many questions.

“Yes. Erica?”

I smiled, hoping he didn’t ask for identification for the trade. “Yep. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”

“No problem. I was just glad to get a call about the car.”

“Do you mind if I take a closer look?” There was no way I was buying a car sight unseen. At least I knew it was drivable; Reed had proven that much by getting it here.

“Not at all. The car is a 1996 with about 180,000 miles. My mom was the previous owner, but she passed away, and I’m sick of the hassle of having a car in this city. It has been well-maintained, even though the paint could use some freshening.” That’s an understatement.

I circled the car, pleased with the prospect. Poking my head in the driver’s side, I made note of the odometer, the gas gauge, and the upholstery, which was in decent condition. “AC and radio in working order?”

“Absolutely. Here, let me fire her up for you,” he said, putting the key in the ignition and starting the engine. At least it sounded okay; I just hoped it could get me to Portland.

After a brief negotiation, I handed Reed the cash and he gave me the keys and title. We parted, and I loaded my belongings in the trunk, thankful that the car had been freshly cleaned for my long road trip. As I adjusted the seat and air settings, I marveled at the thought that this was my car. Although it wasn’t nearly as nice as the Subaru that Knox and Theo frequently lent me, it was all mine. Not that I intended to keep it long, but still, it felt momentous. I pulled out of the parking lot and stopped at the nearest gas station to fill up and purchase a map.

Settling into the drive, I headed north, grateful for the light traffic. I couldn’t believe how smoothly the entire day had gone, and in less than twenty-four hours, I would be in a new city, with a new identity, and in need of a new job and a new look. Though I was pleased with the progress I had made so far, I knew the adrenaline and activity were the only things keeping me going. I wondered how many miles I could put between me and Santa Cruz before I would need to rest.

Once I made it out of the city, the quiet started to get to me, so I switched on the radio. Tuning the dial, I passed several stations before selecting one. I hummed along with the upbeat tune, trying to emulate the singer’s cheerful attitude.

But, deep down, I knew it was a hopeless cause. After spending so many hours focusing every bit of my energy on getting away, I’d pushed my mind and body to the edge. As weariness from the mostly sleepless night and incredibly long and stressful day crept in, it became clear that I was hanging on by a mere thread.

When the song changed to “You Belong With Me,” I finally lost it, and the tears I’d been holding back all day streamed down my face. Reminded of the perfect moment I’d shared with Chase, singing along with that song while he played the guitar, pain cut through me like I’d been stabbed with a thousand tiny knives. With only miles and loneliness stretched endlessly before me, I wondered if I would ever feel whole again.