CAPTURED INNOCENCE (6 page)

He tipped the cup to his lips and spit it out. “Awful stuff.”
He tossed the cup to the ground and pressed the lock release on the car’s fob.

“That’s littering.”

Blake held the door open for the boy and slammed it closed behind him. “You’re a sassy boy, aren’t you?”

“Mommy told me never to litter.”

Blake sighed. The smell of the sweet pancakes made him nauseous and increased his ill-temper. The car’s tires squealed as he raced from the parking lot. He accelerated and sped to the nearby access road and onto the freeway.

“Uh oh,” Alex’s whisper reached Blake’s ears.

“Did you spill?” The man swerved the car to the shoulder of the road. “Tell me you didn’t spill.” He cut off the ignition and strode to the back door. Heat rose into his face as he surveyed the damage.

Pancakes and syrup ran down the boy’s legs and onto the leather seats. Blake cursed and pulled Alex from the car, throwing the boy to the ground. “I told you not to spill anything
. Didn’t I?” He towered over Alex and kicked up the dirt. “Do you know how much that car cost me? Do you care?”

“Is there a problem here?”

Blake swerved to see a police officer swing a leg off a motorcycle and remove his helmet.

“Now look what you’ve done,” he hissed at the boy. “Get up and don’t say a word.”

“Were you about to strike that boy?”

“No, sir. He
’s feeling ill and we had to pull over, right son?”

Alex nodded. Blake held out a hand and helped the boy to his feet. “He’s much better now.”

The officer looked toward the car. “May I see your vehicle registration and your driver’s license, please?”

“Why? Is there a problem?” Blake squeezed the boy’s hand.

“Just procedure.”

Blake nodded and pulled Alex along with him. Bending low to the boy’s ear, he whispered, “Get in the car and don’t talk. Understand?”

Alex nodded.

Blake
opened the door and pulled down the glove box to withdraw the requested papers. A small, 50-caliber, antique derringer with a pearl handle lay nestled beneath them. He retrieved the gun and stuck it in the pocket of his pants.

“Here they are.” He handed them to the officer. “Everything should be in order.”

The officer perused the papers and handed them back. “Where y’all headed?”

“Back home. My son and I are just driving across country
. Taking in the sights.”

“Have a safe trip.” The officer turned and walked back to his bike. He nodded a goodbye before donning his helmet and driving back onto the freeway.

Blake squared his shoulders. He glanced to the car where Alex waited.

              Conley stared at Jo’s sleeping face. Her dark lashes cast shadows on her pale cheeks. He rubbed his chin. His hand rasped against the day-old whiskers.

             
He ached to run his fingers through the long auburn strands, shot with gold that fanned over her pillow like dark fire. Clutched in her hand, Jo held her son’s pajama top. What started as just another job for Conley had turned into something more personal.

He remembered the first time he
’d spotted Jo in person. He could recall everything about that day, as if a movie replayed the events inside his head. She’d been waiting on tables at the restaurant, oblivious to everyone around her but the customer. She had a way of making each person feel as if they were the only one in the restaurant. Her hair had been drawn back into a ponytail. A tired smile pasted on her face. She’d looked at the clock hanging behind the counter on her way to the kitchen.

             
Conley had glanced down at the photograph her mother gave him and compared the laughing young woman in the picture to the tense and anxious one standing in front of him. His heart skipped a beat as she’d turned in his direction, looking at him, yet not really seeing him. He’d thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

             
He sat on the edge of the small bed where he’d deposited her last night. She’d cried herself to sleep in his arms, railing against the injustice of her ex-husband and her fear over what he would do to Alex.

             
Leaning forward and balancing his elbows on his thighs, Conley put his head in his hands and scratched his head.

             
“Your hair is sticking up in all directions.”

             
Conley lifted his head to see Jo looking at him.

             
“I need to call my parents.” She sat up and flung off the blanket. “They need to be on the look-out for Blake.”

             
“Okay.” Conley stood and held out a hand to help her. “Pack a small bag. We’ll be riding the Harley.”

             
“Are you serious? We have five states to go through.” Jo’s eyes widened.

             
“Do you have another means of transportation, because I don’t?” Conley tossed her one of the saddlebags from his bike. “Take only what will fit in here.” He took a couple of steps toward the door before turning. “Oh, and pack a dress. We’ll be stopping in Vegas to get married. We’ll be there by nightfall.”

             
“Married!” Jo’s voice squeaked. “I’m not going to marry you. You’re crazy. You’ve got a lot of nerve. I don’t even know you.”

             
“We’ll be traveling and living very closely with each other. It’ll be better if we’re married. We’ll be better equipped to battle Blake over custody of Alex if you’re married.”

             
She popped her head through the door. “Alex isn’t his. He doesn’t have any rights to him.”

             
“Tell your ex-husband that. His wallet can speak volumes. We don’t have to stay married. An annulment will be easy enough to get.”

             
Her head disappeared through the doorway and something hit the wall. A picture fell. She reappeared in the doorway of the bedroom and threw the saddle bag at him. “Don’t expect any rights.”

             
He caught the saddlebag. “I won’t. It’ll be name only. Once we’re married, we’ll post an announcement in your hometown paper and mention the fact your son is missing, presumably kidnapped by your ex-husband.” He grinned. “How’s that for stirring things up?”

             
“I like it, except for the getting married part.”

Man
, she’s cute
. He reached over and opened the door. “After you.” He winked as she stalked by.

             
She tossed her head and stomped down the stairs ahead of him.

             
They stopped in front of the manager’s apartment, and Conley rapped on the door.

             
“What?” A sleepy Evers opened the door.

             
Conley handed the disgruntled man a hundred dollar bill. “Pack up Ms. Thomas’s things and store them. She’ll be back for them in a few weeks. We’re getting married.” He patted Evers on his protruding stomach. “That’s a good man.”

             
“I told him my name was Kingsley,” Jo said.

             
Evers looked like a fish out of water. His mouth opened and closed as Conley ushered Jo out of the building. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Evers still stared after them as they stashed Jo’s saddlebag on the back of the Harley.

Conley handed her the helmet and mounted the bike. He gave the man a wave and patted the hand which settled against his hip. He pulled Jo tighter to him, enjoying the feel of her
against his back, and they sped away.

They exited onto the freeway
and merged swiftly with the busy morning traffic. Two miles down the interstate, Jo shuddered. He could tell from her trembles that she cried.

He chose the next off-ramp and stopped in the shade of a large tree. Slinging his leg around, he pulled Jo onto his lap and removed her helmet. Once again he held her as she cried herself dry.

###

Holding tight around Conley’s waist, the trembling overcame
Jo when they reached the interstate. With nothing to occupy her thoughts but the scenery flashing by, the tears had started. Slowly at first, then building into a full scale sob fest.

She shook her head, blubbering and protesting as Conley drew her into his lap. He smoothed her hair
, and she gave into his tenderness.

“How did you meet Blake?”

She jerked her head up and stared into Conley’s face. “What?”

“Blake. How did you meet him?”

“Um…I was a coffee barrista.”

“Go on.” Conley situated them more firmly on the bike’s seat.

“I was flattered by his attentions. He came in every morning for a cup of coffee and insisted I be the one to serve him.” It wasn’t until later that she’d discovered his primary attraction to her was because she was so obviously untrained in most cultural manners. She’d been clay to be molded in his hands.

“Blake wanted a trophy wife. Someone
he could put on display. He told me how to dress, how to wear my hair.” She laughed and put a hand to her untamed curls. “He hated my curls. He drilled me before every social event, making sure I knew exactly how to act.”

“And if you failed?”

Jo scooted off the bike. “Then I paid for it.” She ground the words out between her teeth.

“How?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She stepped away, turning to face down the freeway, arms folded tight across her chest. Images of being locked in a room until bruises could be hidden flooded through her mind. Jo shook as fearful thoughts of not finding Alex in time flowed through her.

“Shhh,” Conley walked up and rubbed her back
. He pulled her into him as if she were an infant. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

“That’s a promise you might not be able to keep
.” Her words were muffled by his chest.

“I’ll keep it.” His arms tightened. “Just get it out. We’ll wait.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Jo rubbed her face on his shirt then raised her head. “I’m ready. We shouldn’t waste anymore time. Blake’s only getting farther ahead of us.”

Conley stared into her face. “Okay. Get your helmet back on and lower the face plate.”

“Face plate?”

He tapped the helmet and showed her how to flip down the face plate. “So I don’t get so wet
.” Sniffing, Jo placed the helmet on her head.

“Let me know if we need to stop again.”

“I won’t need to.”

He bumped her. “Anxious to get to Vegas?”

Jo scowled as he pushed her into the motorcycle, and she banged her side. “Right. That’s it.”

She climbed on behind him
after Conley mounted. Leaning back, she tapped his shoulder, signaling she was ready. With a roar, they sped back to the interstate.

A lump caught in
her throat, and she leaned her head forward, the helmet resting between Conley’s shoulder blades.
What if Blake doesn’t go to Prestige? I need to call my parents. I’ll have to do that when we reach Vegas. Vegas? What am I doing?

She tapped on his back again, then waited until he pulled to the side of the road. “What?”
His bright eyes narrowed.

“Are you sure we can get an annulment?”

“That’s why we’re going to Vegas. I’ll say I was drunk or something. Trust me. Is this why we stopped?”

             
She nodded. “I couldn’t speak to you while we were zooming down the road. What if we got into an accident?”

             
“You beat all. Vegas is two hours away. Do you think we can drive that long without stopping again?”

             
Jo nodded. “Yes. I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset. You told me to tell you if I needed to stop.”

             
“Not every five minutes.”

             
“You don’t need to yell at me.”

             
Conley growled and restarted the bike. Without another word, he gunned the Harley. Jo jerked back. She grabbed hold of his waist and yelled into his ear. “I need to call my parents when we stop again.”

             
She scooted so she wasn’t plastered against his body and kept her hands lightly on his waist. Once her fear of the bike left her, she found the ride exhilarating and wished she could take off the helmet. She contemplated doing so and disregarded it as she stared at Conley’s back. He wouldn’t stop to let her.

             
Unwelcome thoughts of Blake rose in her mind. He’d beaten her severely enough to send her to the hospital when Jo’s pregnancy expanded her waistline to an extent he thought disgusting. Jo had thought for sure she’d lose the baby.

             
Blake had told everyone she’d been in a car accident, even going so far as to run her car into a tree to back up his story. When she’d been released from the hospital, he’d reverted back to the loving husband he wished the world to see. Life behind the doors of their home had been different.