HUNTINGTON BEACH
He acted like he didn’t know where he was driving. Like he was just out clearing his head. Like he didn’t know he was heading west.
He knocked on the door. She opened it a crack. He could tell from the way she was standing she had her foot wedged behind the door. Already showing more smarts than that suckmouth had at the stash house.
“I told you everything I know,” she said.
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here then?”
“We hit the stash house today.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“They’re going to be asking questions,” Nate said. “They’ll get around to asking you soon enough.”
“Take your daughter and get the hell out of California.”
“There’s no place safe for us,” he said. “That’s why we’re fighting.”
Headlights lit them up as a car rolled down the street. Nate touched the gun in his hoodie pocket. She saw the move. And Nate saw how it scared her but that she liked it too.
“You got to leave,” she said. “You’re crazy to be here.”
“I know,” he said. “Can I come back?”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
He could see in her face that she did. That it wasn’t his imagination. She had wild eyes. Same as he did these days. He understood then how they’d got to her. How he’d got to her too. Then something in her—something smart, Nate had to admit—won out. She shook her head no.
“Just find yourself somebody who doesn’t know who you are,” she said.
“You already know my secret,” Nate says. “And I know yours.”
“The hell you do.”
“You’ve been living in a cage you built so slow you didn’t even notice when the door locked behind you. And you maybe even haven’t let yourself admit you want out.”
“Please go,” she said.
He stepped back from the door to say okay. He turned away. He knew he had to leave it up to her.
“I’ll meet you someplace,” she said behind him. “Someplace nobody knows me.”