“What’s your last name?” Jennifer asked after her heart had slowed enough that she could speak after their second round of sex so hot she’d talk about it in her diary if she had a diary. She was sprawled across the washboard chest a man whose last man she did not know. It made her feel dirty. She wasn’t the girl who slept with men whose name she didn’t know.

Rourke tensed beneath her, so she knew he heard the question, but he didn’t answer. Jennifer slid off him and rose up on one elbow to look into his eyes. Rourke was staring at the ceiling, and if she weren’t mistaken in the low light of the bedroom, he was blushing. Did he not want her to know his last name? What the hell?

“What? You can fuck me, but I can’t know your name?” she snapped out the question, feeling embraced and a little hurt.

She tried to remove herself from his ridiculously comfortable bed, but Rourke wouldn’t let her go. Rourke rolled with her until he had her pressed beneath him on the bed again. She was glaring up at him. He was frowning at her. It wasn’t an angry glower. No, it was more like a scowl of resignation. He couldn’t avoid answering. What was the big deal about letting her know his last name? Maybe it was a really sucky name. Maybe women had run screaming at the sound of his name. Could it be Rumpelstiltskin? Seaman? Oh, a sailor named Seaman would really suck. Maybe it was Fuchs. Or Bieber! No! Never say his last name was Bieber!

After what felt like an endless stare down where Jennifer imagined the worst names possible -like Hitler or Butts-, Rourke finally sighed and rolled off Jennifer. He sprawled across the bed and threw his arm over his eyes.

“My last name is Rourke.”

Wait, what? Rourke was his last name? Jennifer had never considered that Rourke wasn’t his name. Logically, since he was a military man, his peers would address him by his last name, but she hadn’t met any of his peers. Everyone from the pastor to his two oldest friends called him Rourke as if that were his name. Jennifer blinked owlishly at the side of his blond head until he turned to look at her.

“My last name is Rourke. I’ve been called Rourke since I was born because my father hated my first name. My dad was also a Navy man. He was deployed when my mother gave birth to me,” he began to explain but stopped as if she might forget he hadn’t told her his first name. Christ! She was in bed with a man, and she didn’t know his first fucking name!

“And?” she didn’t mean to yell, but dammit, she felt like a slut!

Rourke sighed. “My name is Stacy Rourke. No middle name. My mother named me after her grandfather whose name, was Eustace. Mom didn’t care for the name Eustace, so she settled on his nickname, Stacy.”

Stacy Rourke. Jennifer let the name roll around her mind a few times. She liked it, but the name was clearly a sore spot for Rourke . . . Stacy? She wondered if he’d let her call him Stacy.

“Stacy Rourke,” Jennifer said the name aloud just to see how it felt on her tongue. Rourke’s expression filled with storm clouds. “Don’t you give me that look. I had sex with a man whose name I didn’t know. That’s fucked up. I’m just trying it on for size.”

“Don’t. I hate it. I always have. Even my dad hated it.” Rourke rolled to his back again and damn if he wasn’t pouting. He really didn’t like his name.

“Why don’t you like it? I like it,” she admitted.

 

Rourke rolled his eyes at her. “Sure you do. Every woman wants a man with woman’s name.”

“Stacy is man’s name, too,” Jennifer insisted. “Tell me why you don’t like it.”

Rourke held up his hand and raised a finger with every point he made. “It’s a girl’s name.” One finger went up. “I listened to my dad tell my mom how much he hated my name every time he came home.” Another finger. “It’s a girl’s name.” A third finger went up. “I got picked on mercilessly my whole life because of that name.” Another finger. “And finally, it’s a fucking girl’s name!” He finished, and his large calloused hand fell to the bed.

Jennifer giggled. Clearly, he was sensitive about having what he considered a girl’s name. “Can I call you Stacy?”

“Not if you want me to answer.”

“Not even in bed?” she teased and reached out run a finger down his happy trail.

“Not unless you want my dick to shrivel.”

Jennifer laughed a full-bodied, tear producing laugh that had Rourke frowning again. She was upsetting him, so she tried to reign herself in. She just found it so amusing that anything would bother her big warrior of a man so much.

The thought helped her sober quite a bit. He wasn’t her man. He would never be Jennifer’s anything. She couldn’t forget that fact. Rourke would be going back to the Navy soon, and she would be God knew where just trying to survive. Plus, she was in deep shit with a madman on her heels, and she didn’t want Rourke buried in the muck with her. She needed to get going soon, but she couldn’t imagine Rourke letting her walk away again easily.

“I’m glad you find my lifelong misery amusing,” Rourke groused and rolled to his side away from her. Jennifer snuggled in and kissed his back. She wrapped an arm around him, and Rourke held her hand. He couldn’t be too upset at her outburst.

“I was amused by your behavior, not your misery. Though you do pout like a champ.” She couldn’t help another little giggle.

“I do not pout, woman. That was a very manly brood you witnessed. Sailors don’t pout,” Rourke insisted.

“Okay, you brood well. When did people start calling you Rourke all the time? I really believed it was your first name because even your friends use the name.” There had to be a story there, and Jennifer was eager to soak up as much of Rourke as she could before the real world separated them again.

“I’ve almost always been called Rourke by everyone except my mom. My early years in school, the teachers called me Stacy until my father marched up there and complained that he was tired of me coming home bloody because I was quick to start a fight when other boys made fun of me. My dad, being a military man, never babied me. He would play rough with me every chance he got.” Jennifer could hear the smile in Rourke’s voice when he talked about his parents. “It drove Mom nuts. She didn’t like ‘horseplay,’ as she called it. She thought Dad was too rough with me. I was a scrawny little kid.”

“Well, that didn’t last long.” Jennifer felt tiny pressed against Rourke’s broad, muscular back.

“I was about thirteen when I had a growth spurt that put me head and shoulders above the other boys. Until then, I was a lanky little shit.”

“So your mom still calls you Stacy?” she asked. “Does your dad still complain about it?”

“Yes, that’s what Mom calls me.” He sounded exasperated. “It’s a family name, and she likes to remind me that it could have been Eustice. I’m really not sure that would have been worse. At least it’s a man’s name.

“My dad, well, he died in service when I was eight. Friendly fire.” Rourke didn’t sound like it was a topic he wanted to explore further. Jennifer didn’t want to upset him when their time together would soon be over, so she blew by the subject.

“I’m sorry for your loss. That must have been tough at such a young age.” Jennifer couldn’t imagine losing her father, even if he had disowned her. She still loved her parents very much. “Do your friends know your real name?”

“Luc and Dolce? Yes, they do after spending so much time around my mom, but neither of them has ever used it. They know I hate it.” Rourke sounded relieved that she hadn’t lingered on the subject of his father’s untimely passing.

“So you’ve been friends for a long time?”

Rourke rolled to his back and wrapped around Jennifer, pulling her tight to his side. She tucked herself, and Rourke warmed to his tale.

“I was on the playground, and it was getting dark. The rule was I had to be in the house when the street lights came on. I was playing basketball with some other boys, and the time got away from me. So Mom stomps down the street yelling, ‘Stacy!’, and the other kids laughed, of course, when they realized I was Stacy. They started with the usual taunts about being a girl. Everyone knew me as Rourke by then.

“I guess I was about ten. I had only recently met Luc. He was seven or eight at the time. Luc didn’t like people being picked on for their names.” He peeked down at her. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes.” She smiled, feeling warmed that Rourke would trust her with a secret.

“I could have it so much worse. Luc’s mother died in childbirth. She’d been through a trauma, so her mental faculties are seriously in question. She had a fever, and she was bleeding to death. Placenta Previa is what Luc said was her cause of death.”

Oh, the poor woman. Jennifer knew what that meant. The placenta was blocking the birth canal. If you didn’t catch that in time, the mother almost always died; but with today’s medical advances, the tragedy could almost always be avoided with strict prenatal care.

“When they asked Luc’s mom if she had a name for him, she gave them one. Then she died. She’d been living on the streets, so it took a while for them to locate the grandmother that raised Luc. She was able to give then the father’s name, though, but he wasn’t interested in taking the baby. So Luc had a first and last name registered before they found his grandma.” Rourke gazed off into space as if reflecting on the past. Jennifer sensed a long and painful story there, but she didn’t want to pry.

“What is his name?” she encouraged Rourke to go on.

Rourke looked so sad when he replied, “Lucifer. His name is Lucifer.”

Jennifer gasped. That poor man had grown up with that awful moniker hanging over his head. No wonder he was so hard.

“So you see, I could have had it way worse. Imagine the teacher calling out Lucifer during roll call on the first day of every school year.”

“I can imagine he took offense to people picking on your name?”

“He really did. Luc stepped in when I started to swing at the jerk calling me a girl. Little Luc threw a few punches of his own at the older boys. And that’s how the lifelong friendship between two fatherless boys with dreadful names began.” There was sincere affection in Rourke’s voice that made Jennifer a little jealous. She wished someone thought of her so fondly.

“What about Dolce?”

“She’s a year younger than Luc. She moved into the neighborhood not long after our brawl in the park. She was just a little thing. Dolce’s mom and grandma became friends with my mom and Rourke’s grandma. We all went to aftercare at the church together, and of course, Sunday school and regular church services, as we got older.

“At first, Dolce was a pain in the ass.” Rourke scratched his chin. “Now that I think about it, she’s still a pain in the ass.”

“I thought she was wonderful.” Jennifer defended for fellow female. Her brothers thought she was a pain, too. They never let her hang out with them.

“Oh, she’s the best now, but as a kid, when she wanted to do everything Luc, and I was doing, though, not so much. We could not shake her. Eventually, she wore us down. For a girl, she was pretty tough. We taught her to throw a punch and ride a bike and spit like a real dude.” Rourke chuckled.  “She’s been the baby sister neither Luc nor I knew we wanted, but I don’t think either of us would ever trade her in. She’s our glue. The thing that holds us all together.”

There was real love there in his voice when Rourke spoke about his friends. It sounded like Rourke had had a pretty good childhood, complete with siblings, to spite being an only child with a name he hated who had lost his dad at a young age. She caressed his skin and pondered the lack of ink.

“You don’t have any tattoos. Not even a Navy tattoo. Why do I think of military men as being all tattooed warriors with foul mouths?” she asked rhetorically. Rourke chuckled.

“Many of my friends are tattooed. I just haven’t found anything I wanted to look at forever yet. As far as a Navy tattoo, that isn’t something a SEAL would do. Not until they leave teams permanently and retire,” he explained.

“Why? I thought to be a SEAL was a big deal.”

“It’s an honor we work hard to attain and maintain, but operators go into places other military personnel doesn't go. We go behind enemy lines when we’re down range. If we’re seized, the U.S. will not admit knowledge of our presence behind the lines. We can’t have any easily identifiable marks, either. Imagine how pleased the enemy would be to know they had a SEAL with knowledge of special ops missions. It would be terrible for the captured operator.” Rourke shivered. “I don’t even want to think about what would happen to them.”

“Operator?” she asked.

“It’s what Special Forces members are called. We’re operators,” he explained.

“Are you gone a lot?” She shouldn’t ask. It didn’t matter since she wouldn’t be around once he returned to his job, but the lack of personal items in his home disturbed Jennifer. How often could he possibly be home?

“I’m gone three hundred or more days a year. Much of that, I’m completely out of reach,” he admitted.

And that put a complete halt to the conversation. Jennifer was trying to imagine being with a man who was gone more than he was home. You would need to be entirely committed to each other for it to work. And the fear of him never coming back would eat her alive.

“I’m starving,” Rourke interrupted her maudlin thoughts. “I was on my way to dinner when I literally ran into you.” Rourke crawled out of the bed that took up most of the room and pulled on his underwear. “I’m going to get a quick shower. Then, while you shower, I’ll make us some dinner.”

 

“Sounds good.” Jennifer gave Rourke a false smile of agreement.

This was her chance. As much as it hurt, she would have to get away from Rourke before they got any closer. She was already head over heels for the sexy SEAL. Jennifer would make the choice to keep Rourke safe because she was almost sure he had some level of feelings for her as well. He’d been searching for her. That had to mean something, right? Maybe it was just the instinct of a military man wanting to protect those weaker than him. Maybe not, but Jennifer couldn’t allow Evan to know about Rourke. If anything happened to Rourke, Jennifer’s heart would never mend.

It would hurt her deeply to walk away from him yet again. More like sneak away, but at least she would know Rourke was out there somewhere alive and happy without a criminal dogging his steps. He would move on and forget her in no time. And didn’t that suck. The pain knifing through Jennifer’s chest at the thought of Rourke with another woman was telling. She’d fallen for Rourke so hard and fast that she doubted she’d ever be the same.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of answering my questions either. You turned the tables by digging into my past. That was a temporary reprieve. Over dinner, I expect an explanation for why you’re skulking around in men’s clothes, among other things.” His bass voice became even more gravelly with the unspoken threat of what he might do to get the information he wanted.

As interested as Jennifer was to find out exactly what lengths Rourke would go to make her talk, she knew it was time to go. She bobbed her head without voicing an agreement to Rourke’s demand. He nodded back as if satisfied that Jennifer was going to submit to his interrogation.

When Rourke turned away from Jennifer, she wanted to leap out of the bed and wrap her arms around him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and was only trying to protect him. She wanted to suggest he come back to bed to hold her a little longer, but she knew none of those things would make their parting any easier.

Rourke disappeared into his small bathroom and the high-pitched squeak of the shower taps being turned on reached Jennifer’s ears. She climbed out of the bed that was rumpled from their loving and tugged on her men’s clothes with a painfully heavy heart thudding slowly in her chest. Jennifer thought of leaving him a note but changed her mind when she couldn’t think of a thing to say that would forgive her act of abandonment, again. 

When Jennifer’s feet hit the pavement outside of Rourke’s apartment building, she took off jogging to put as much space between them as she could before he exited his bathroom to find her missing, which should be happening any minute. Rourke didn’t behave like the kind of man who took overly long primping in the bathroom. With a face and body like Rourke’s, why would he need to?

Jennifer made it back to her little cubby in the church basement with tears running down her face. If she didn’t know her heart was in top condition from a lifetime of dancing, she’d swear she had a coronary. The agony of losing the man she wanted more than her next breath was overwhelming her.

Jennifer curled into a ball on her squeaky little bed and let the sorrow escape in loud, coughing sobs. Rourke would be so angry with her. Would he be hurt, too? Was it wrong that she hoped it wasn’t easy for him to lose her either? She didn’t want to Rourke to suffer, but the woman in her wanted to believe he cared for her, too. Even if just a little.

She had no idea how long she lay there feeling sorry for herself and wondering what Rourke was doing. There was no window in her room, so she didn’t know if night had fallen over Vegas or not. Did it matter? For now, her life consisted of these four walls inside of her little room. And she hadn’t made it to her apartment before running into Rourke. So there Jennifer still was with no money, and no clothes, other than those three fucking dresses Jennifer couldn’t wait to burn.

 

*   *   *

 

Jennifer hunkered down in the corner of the laundry room closet and closed her eyes tightly, like a child who hoped the monster under her bed wouldn’t see her, if she couldn’t see it. She didn’t move, didn’t even breathe as the sound of heavy footfalls rushed past in the hall.

“I know she’s here! Find her or the boss is going to have our skins! I’ll check this floor. You go search the parking lot. She couldn’t have gotten far.”

Jennifer had finally gotten up the nerve to venture out of the church after her last attempt landed her in Rourke’s bed. She couldn’t even think of Rourke without a lump forming in her throat. Her time with him had been far too short. It was something she would never forget. Even if she wanted to. Her heart ached for a chance to show him how much she wanted to give them the time to get to know each other. It just wasn’t in the cards for them. He would be going back to the Navy, and Jennifer would be leaving town for who knew where as soon as possible. He must think she was some kind of slut after sleeping with him and running away twice. She couldn’t thing about that now, though.

An intense feeling of foreboding had been hitting Jennifer hard for days. She had to move on soon. Jennifer’s intuition screamed at her to leave Las Vegas now, before it was too late. It had taken Jennifer a solid week come up with a new outfit to wear from church donations and steel herself to risk running into Rourke again on her way to the bus stop. She needed to retrieve some clothing and her stash of money if she were going to get out of town, but shit had gone wrong faster than she could have imagined possible.

The laundry room door in her building flew open and cracked against the door of the tiny closet that hid her from Evan’s man. There was no window in the room for her to escape through, only several washers, dryers, and two folding tables. Footsteps entered, and she knew they were looking for her. The closet was so small you couldn’t see it if you didn’t shut the door to the hall.

Jennifer clutched the bag of clothes and personal possessions she’d managed to gather from her apartment before she noticed several men leap out of a dark sedan and run toward her apartment building. She recognized one of the men. He’d been there in Evan’s home while she was a captive. Jennifer clutched her bag to her chest and prayed. These people were dangerous. If they found her, Jennifer would never be seen again.

It had to be that bitch next door who ratted her out. Either that or Evan had men watching her apartment all day, every day. It had taken them too long to show up for her to believe that was true. She’d run into her neighbor, Marcy when she tried to sneak into the building unnoticed. She hadn’t seen anyone else.

Marcy always seemed to be in the hall when Evan picked Jennifer up for a date. Marcy gushed to Jennifer about how handsome Evan was and how lucky she was to have hooked a wealthy man. Marcy could have his crazy ass. Evan must have asked Marcy to call him if she saw Jennifer.

Jennifer couldn’t think of any other explanation for her sudden discovery when she dared to go home. She’d taken a bus there in a new set of borrowed clothing. She wanted to be incognito, and she’d done a good job of it after the practice she had the week before. Jennifer could pass for a short man or a teenage boy if you didn’t look at her too closely. Her hair was up in a ball cap. She wore jeans that sagged off her hips so badly that she needed a belt and an over-sized jersey. She’d watched the building from across the street for over an hour before approaching. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so she went in with sweaty palms and a pounding heart.

She would be evicted soon if the rent wasn’t paid. Undoubtedly, she’d been fired from her job when she never returned to work. She couldn’t very well go ask for her job back. Evan would find her in no time if he were going to shows as often as he had in the past. Not that he’d gone to even one show in town that she knew of after he plucked her out of her life. Either way, the rent wouldn’t be paid again this month. It was only a matter of time before her things were left by the dumpster for her neighbors to pick through.

She had to get to her place and take everything she could carry, including her stash of cash from the fake frozen juice container in the freezer. Then she could hopefully get out of town without being noticed. The longer she stayed in the church, the more danger she put everyone there in. She’d imposed on the church’s kindness for long enough. Jennifer needed to get out of Vegas altogether. Where she’d go, she didn’t know. The first bus out of town would have to be good enough.

Disaster struck when Jennifer literally bumped into Marcy by the mailboxes. It was like a rerun of the week before, only this time, it wasn’t a sexy SEAL who discovered Jennifer. Jennifer was trying to keep her head down when she walked right into the other woman. The hat fell off, and Marcy recognized her right away. Marcy made a snarky comment about Jennifer’s new style. The bitch. Marcy always looked perfect.

Jennifer hurried passed Marcy and up the stairs. The feeling of impending doom mounted as she rummaged around for the things she needed and anything else she could possibly carry. She hadn’t been home for more than twenty minutes when she saw several of Evan’s men burst from a black sedan on the parking lot below. How the hell had he found her.

Jennifer grabbed the one bag she’d managed to pack and the can of cash from the freezer in just enough time to exit her apartment and duck into the laundry room. Evan’s men were storming up the steps when Jennifer squeezed into the utility closet. She heard them kick in her apartment door.

Now Jennifer was stuck there hiding from Evan again. She was sick of it. It had been a month since she’d fled Evan’s office in fear for her life. All the days since that replayed in Jennifer’s terrified mind. She relived every moment of her captivity as well as all of the blood and death she’d seen at the end. Her feet ached with the remembered pain of running for her life in those damn heels.

Fear of discovery had her spending a few days hiding out in casinos around the strip. It was unbelievable how many good hidey-holes you could find in a casino. It was easy to get lost in the crowds, too. On the beginning of her fourth day of casino hide-and-go-seek, Jennifer wandered into The Inferno Hotel and Casino.

She was rumpled, starving, and paranoid as all hell when she stumbled right into the arms of Pastor Davis. He had caught her before she landed on her knees. Jennifer looked up into his warm brown eyes set in a tan, timeworn face with a shock of mostly white hair. Something in that face told her she was safe. Something in her face must have told the pastor that Jennifer was in desperate need of help.

That’s how she ended up living in the church basement. The pastor bullied her into leaving with him. He took her to the church where his lovely angel of a wife was waiting for them. Jennifer told them only what she had to so they understood her situation. She was running for her life, and Jennifer didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. The kind older couple installed her into the little secret room behind the church kitchen until Jennifer had somewhere else to go. There she stayed hiding and biding her time.

Jennifer still didn’t know where to go. The police weren’t an option. She couldn’t go home. What if Evan tracked her to DC and hurt her family? That was unacceptable. He might have someone watching for her there as well. Until now, Jennifer had been trying to convince herself that she really was being paranoid. She hoped Evan had forgotten her as quickly as he’d snapped her up. Now, hiding in the closet after visual proof that Evan was, indeed, still out for her, Jennifer couldn’t deny the validity of following her instincts. They’d been right all along.

Jennifer slid down the wall to the floor of the tiny closet. Her knees were pressed against her chest. The bag she’d risked her life to retrieve filled the rest of the tight space. Two thoughts rattled around her brain.

First, she considered just giving herself up. She was so sick of being afraid. So tired of hiding. The time she’d spent locked away in the church had shown Jennifer just how alone she was in this world. Every day, she sank deeper and deeper into depression. What was the worst Evan could do to her? Kill her? Honestly, death was starting to look like the better option. She wasn’t living anyway.

Her second thought was that she wished she could see Rourke one more time before she died. She wanted to look into his bright blue eyes and apologize. He was the only good thing that had happened to her since she left her parents to strike out on her own.

Rourke made her feel safe. He made her feel wanted. Rourke made Jennifer feel a whole lot of things. She’d spent so little time with Rourke, but he’d somehow made a place for himself in her heart. He deserved so much better than the way she’d walked out on him, twice. Jennifer wished she could see him one more time before she died. She wouldn’t see Rourke ever again, though. It was too dangerous for him.

Jennifer wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there in a haze of terror and regret when the door was suddenly ripped open. She shrieked. That caused the woman who opened the closet door to scream as well.

“Oh god, I’m so glad I found you. Get up. Hurry in case they decide to come back.” Marcy took Jennifer’s bag.

“What the fuck, Marcy? Did you call those assholes?”

“Yes, I did, but I had the best of intention, I swear. Hurry up. Let’s go to my place so we can talk.”

Jennifer wiggled her way out of the closet and shot across the hall where Marcy was waiting with her apartment door open. Once inside, Marcy dead bolted the door and leaned against it. Jennifer glared at Marcy. She’d strangle the woman if she thought it would make a damn bit of difference.

“I’m sorry, okay,” Marcy apologized. “A couple of weeks ago, Evan came to see me. He told me the two of you had an argument. He said he’d upset you, and now you wouldn’t speak to him.

“I told him I hadn’t seen you coming or going in weeks. I was beginning to think you’d moved out. Evan said you had gone home to visit your family in DC. He said he loved you very much and wanted to make things right with you, but he didn’t know when you’d be home.

“He was so sad and pathetic when he told me he wanted to marry you. I bought it hook, line, and sinker. I agreed to call him if you showed up here. I’m such a fucking idiot. I somehow doubt a man trying to convince a woman to marry him would send a gang of thugs to kick in her door. I’m very sorry, Jennifer. Thank goodness, they didn’t find you. What is going on?”

Jennifer believed Marcy. Evan had read the woman just right and knew what to say to gain her assistance.

“No, he doesn’t want to marry me, not really, but he did plan to make it legal. He wants to own me. I haven’t been in DC. I’ve been hiding from him for almost a month. Before that, he held me against my will in his home. I escaped and he’s been hunting me. He’s insane.”

Marcy gasped. Jennifer fell onto Marcy’s couch. Her back and legs ached from being stuffed in such a confined space.

“Why don’t you go to the police?” Marcy asked.

“I can’t. Look, it’s better that you don’t know any more details. If Evan comes back, you should play stupid. Pretend you don’t know they kicked in my door. Tell him you think my apartment was burglarized or something. The more stupid he believes you are the better for you.”

Marcy nodded agreement. “So what now? I don’t think you should stay at your place.”

Marcy disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a damp dishtowel and a bottle of cold water. Jennifer accepted the water and drank it down gratefully. Then, she took the towel and wiped her dirty face and hands.

“You’re right, I can’t stay here. I don’t think I can stay in Vegas any longer. I rather hoped he might have stopped looking for me. No such luck. I came back to get some clothes,” Jennifer gestured to her man’s clothing, “and the last of my cash. I need a bus ticket.”

“Where are you going to go?” Marcy asked.

“I have no idea. As far as I can go with what money I have on the first bus that’s leaving town when I reach the station.” That was Jennifer’s plan. Get on a bus and go until she found a little town she might get lost in for a while.

Marcy considered Jennifer for minute before she left the room. When she returned with a wad of cash and tucked the money into Jennifer’s bag, Jennifer was stunned.

“What are you doing? I can’t take that,” Jennifer argued.

“Yes you can, and you will. I’ve been saving for a rainy day. What do you think you’re going to do in your random new town when you get off the bus? Sleep on the street? Panhandle for food? You need a little money. It’s only a thousand, but you can get a cheap room and eat a little while on that if you’re frugal.”

Jennifer took back every mean thought she’d ever had about Marcy. The woman was good at heart. She was just a hopeless romantic who dreamed of a wealthy man sweeping her off her feet.

“I’ll take the money, but I promise I’ll find a way to pay you back.” It hurt Jennifer’s pride to accept the money, but Marcy was right. She needed a little to get by until she found a job, hopefully under the table. Wouldn’t her father be proud?

Marcy went to the door and peeked into the hall. “I don’t see anyone, but I’m afraid they’re watching the building since they didn’t find you.”

“You’re probably right.” Jennifer went to the window and looked down. It was a long drop from the third floor. She didn’t think she could make it without a broken limb.

“Here’s what we’ll do. Get yourself straightened up. They’re expecting to see a beautiful blond, not a young guy. So we’ll walk out together as a couple. You put an arm around me. I’ll hug you and giggle. Anyone watching won’t know it’s you. We’ll get in my car and drive away.”

It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all they had. Jennifer got up and began straightening her clothes. She pulled on her cap to hide the golden bun on her head. Jennifer hoped for Marcy’s sake it worked, because if it didn’t, Marcy would be dragged down with Jennifer.

When they left Marcy’s apartment looking for all the world like a couple in love, it only took Jennifer a hot minute to spot the man Evan left to watch for her. He was backed into a spot on the opposite side of the court watching the building. The glow of his cigarette shown in the darkness.

“You see him?” Marcy asked.

“Yup. He’s watching us. I’m going to open your car door for you.” Jennifer held her hand out for the keys.

“You drive,” Marcy said. “I’m a fucking wreck. I can’t image how you feel.”

“Alright.” Jennifer took the keys and led Marcy to the passenger side of her beat-up old Chevy. She opened the door. Marcy shocked the shit out of Jennifer by leaning into her to plant a swift kiss on Jennifer’s mouth before she climbed in the car. Marcy was going for broke with the couple act.

When they drove away, the man in the dark sedan didn’t move. He lit another cigarette and continued his vigil. Maybe that kiss had sealed their performance. Jennifer drove to a shopping center a few blocks from the church. She didn't want Marcy to know where she was going. It was better for Marcy if she was clueless.

“If Evan somehow finds out you helped me, you’re to tell him what you know. Don’t risk your life, Marcy. He’s a dangerous man. Tell him I forced you to take me to North Vegas at gunpoint. Tell him I was hiding in the laundry room closet, and his men didn’t find me. Tell him I threatened to come back for revenge if you called him,” Jennifer directed.

“But what if he comes looking for you?” Marcy asked.

“I won’t be here long. I’m leaving tonight for parts unknown even to me. He won’t find me. At least not tonight if I’m lucky.” Jennifer hugged Marcy. “Thank you, for everything. I promise I’ll pay you back.”

“Just say safe. You don’t know how sorry I am for making that call.” There were tears in Marcy’s voice. 

Jennifer was on the edge of a fall apart herself. She couldn’t look Marcy in the eye if she wanted to hold it together. Jennifer didn’t have time for a breakdown. She’d cry when she got to wherever it was that she was going.