Metallicar rumbles low as it pulls away, and I lift my hand, waving as they ease from the curb. I step back, walking to the front steps of the Pink Flamingo as the red tail lights grow smaller in the distance.
Jr
“It’s not right. We can’t just leave her there.” My younger brother looks out the window at the waif of a girl standing on the sidewalk in front of his building.
“She’s not a puppy, Scout.”
“Hell, I’d be less worried about a puppy. At least then somebody might throw her some scraps or take her in. As it is—”
“As it is, we’ve got to make it to Tucson by nightfall.”
I try to fight it, but my eyes drift to the rearview mirror when we stop at the red light. I see her standing there, watching us go in that thin yellow dress with the big beige coat on top that looks like she skinned a teddy bear. She’s still holding the empty water bottle, and I can still see her bright blue eyes watching me.
She’s too sweet and too damn pretty. “That girl is trouble.”
“That girl?” My brother hooks a thumb, laughing at me like I just called her a killer bunny.
“This isn’t a joy ride.”
“Right. What is this exactly? You get out of the joint and immediately you want to drive thirty-six hours across the country in three days?”
“I want to see Jesse.” My throat aches at the thought he might’ve forgotten me.
I don’t include the part where I plan to confront my dad and demand answers—or punch him in the face.
That part makes my blood pressure rise.
The light finally turns green, and I’m about to floor it when Scout grabs the door handle and hops out. “Not on my watch.”
I slam on the brakes shouting, “Scout, Goddammit!”
But he’s jogging back to where a young guy in a dirty hoodie is talking to Hope. He always has to be a hero. I was like that eighteen months ago—until I learned the hard way heroes just get slugged in the stomach then kicked in the nuts when they’re lying on the ground.
The car behind me honks, and I pull out of the lane of traffic, doing a shitty parallel parking job. Stepping out of the vehicle, I watch as Hope shies away from hoodie guy, and I see relief wash over her face when she sees Scout jogging towards her.
My brother doesn’t hesitate. He grabs her arm and pulls her to where I’m waiting at the car. Hope’s pale blonde hair fans out behind her as she jogs to keep up with him, and that teddy bear coat falls off one shoulder.
She looks too young to be able to own a car, much less sell one and get ditched in Los Angeles alone. Her blue eyes are too round, and her pink lips are like the small roses our grandmother used to grow over the fence in her backyard.
In spite of myself, I take in her slender frame and the heat in my stomach turns to something lustier. I imagine crushing those glossy lips with mine…
Fucking… What the hell?
Trouble. This girl is trouble.
Scout is talking to her. “I know it’s crazy, but these are crazy times. We’ve just got to go with it.”
“You sound like my dad.” Her voice is hesitant but curious. “He’s always talking about providence and having faith.”
My brother holds the door for her. “Sounds like my kind of guy. Get in.”
Our eyes meet, and my brow lowers. “This is a bad idea.”
She pauses, lifting luminous blue eyes to mine. “I’m sorry, John…”
Her soft voice hits me right in the chest. My jaw clenches, and I swallow the growl rising in my throat.
“John?” Scout closes his door and hops in the passenger’s side facing me. “The only person who calls him John is our grandmother.”
Her brow furrows like she caught me in a lie, which is ridiculous. “I guess I should be more careful. You never know when people are being honest.”
Scout places a hand over his heart. “I vow to be personally responsible for your safety on this trip.”
I roll my eyes, looking up at the blue sky. It’s a wonder this guy hasn’t won a daytime Emmy yet.
Leaning forward, I start the ignition. “You are personally responsible for her. Don’t make me regret this.”
“Have I ever made you regret anything?”
I pause to think, and no, I can honestly say, my little brother has been the one person I’ve always been able to count on my entire life.
“Let’s go.” I shift the car into drive, and we head towards the I-10 entrance ramp.
We’re past Riverside, and I’m about ready to take a break. Hope and Scout have been chatting nonstop, and I’ve learned she’s twenty-three, two years younger than my brother, three and a half years younger than me, and she’d just celebrated the grand opening of her own restaurant Pancake Paradise in the Embarcadero when the lockdown happened.
“It was my dream happy place.” Her voice is clear as a bell, a little on the high side but not annoying.
Her jacket is off, and she’s in a thin yellow dress with spaghetti straps over her shoulders that show she’s not wearing a bra. The sun shines through her wavy, light blonde hair, and she holds a Red Vine to her full pink lips, slipping her small pink tongue out to taste it.
I look out the window, to distract my body from the primal response she provokes. For the last eighteen months, my fist has been my dick’s only friend.
“It was like hibachi?” Scout hasn’t changed a bit since I saw him last. He’s as ready to make friends as ever.
“Mm-hm.” She nods. “But with pancakes. You’d get this plastic squeeze bottle like a ketchup bottle but clear. It had your special batter in it, and you could make shapes or write your name or use one of the molds we provided. You could even mix the batters to do like a marble effect.”
“What’s special batter?”
“Whatever you want!” The wind pushes her hair off her soft cheeks, and her nose wrinkles. “Plain, chocolate, vanilla bean, cinnamon, red velvet… we even had whole wheat and gluten-free options. Then once it was done, you could decorate it with whipped cream and sprinkles or fresh fruit or fancy syrups.”
My brother exhales a laugh. “I would have never thought of this, but it sounds really fun.”
“It was.” Her voice goes quiet, sad, and my chest tightens protectively, which is fucking ridiculous. “I invested everything I had in it. Then I lost it all.”
“Man.” Scout pats her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Hope.”
For a minute, she glances out the window, and her full bottom lip disappears into her mouth. It’s like when a small cloud passes over the sun on a perfect summer day, a moment of shadow.
Then she shakes her head and blinks quickly. “It’s going to be okay! My dad says you’re going to stumble when you start to run. The trick is to get back up when you fall.”
“He’s right.” My brother nods. “Hell, I’d just gotten my first callback to be a paid extra in the new Chris Nolan film on March 20, and bam! Shutdown.”
“Oh…” Her face falls into a sympathetic expression. “Still, that sounds so exciting. It’s going to come back, right?”