The Changelings (War of the Fae: Book 1) (4 page)

 
"On the road where?
 
What are you talking about?"
 
I was trying to remember if we had planned on going to the library or something, but nothing was ringing a bell.

"We're leaving here Jayne, tonight ...
now
... so help me pack this stuff."
 
He threw an empty grocery bag in my direction.

Yep, it was now confirmed.
 
He'd definitely lost it.
 

"Tony, calm down.
 
I know you're a little bit – or maybe a lot – freaked out about what happened back there with Powers, but it doesn't mean you have to leave town or anything.
 
Don't worry, we'll figure something out.
 
He probably won't even say anything to anyone.
 
He won't want anyone to know you got the drop on him."

I was standing there with the empty grocery bag in my hand, hoping my words of reason were making an impact.
 
Tony stopped waiting for me to cooperate and grabbed the bag out of my hand, filling it himself.

"Come on."
 
He grabbed me by the arm and the three of us –him, me and his bag of granola bars and juice boxes – walked quickly out of the kitchen and back to the front door by his bags.
 
He shoved the groceries into his big bag and then unzipped his book bag.
 
He took out the gun and threw it into the bigger bag too.
 
He was obviously in total meltdown mode, probably worried about how he was going to be kicked out of the computer club or something.

As freaked out as I was about his behavior, I knew I couldn't leave him here like this.
 
I figured my best bet was to humor him until I could figure out how to calm him down.
 
It never crossed my mind that I would be in danger from my loony friend, because that's what he was – my friend.
 
My best friend, in fact.
 
Today's knight-in-shining-armor-with-a-gun episode proved that.

"Okay fine, I'm all ears.
 
What's the plan?
 
Where are we going?"

"Don't patronize me, Jayne, I'm serious.
 
We're leaving here."

Hmmm.
 
It appeared my plan wasn't working.
 
Time to get all grown-up on his ass.
 
I gently took his hand, lacing his fingers in mine, so he'd stop stuffing things in his commando bag and look at me.
 
He stopped but didn't look at me.
 
He just stared at our interlaced hands.

"Tony, stop.
 
Look at me."

His eyes remained lowered.
 
"Jayne, I know what happened with your mother's boyfriend; I know what he's done to you.
 
We either have to leave, or I'm going to kill him.
 
It's that simple."

The blood drained out of my face.
 
I dropped his hand, feeling dizzy.
 
How did he know?
 
This wasn't about Brad Powers.
 
This was about my deepest, darkest, ugliest, filthiest secret.
 
The shame.
 
I couldn't deal with it, not now.
 
Not knowing that he knew.

I stood up quickly, meaning to leave.
 
Tony must have known my intentions because he jumped up too and ran to the door before I could get there.
 
He stood with his legs and arms spread, back to the door, facing me.

"I'm not letting you leave without me, Jayne.
 
We stay together; we're a team.
 
We can do this."

I was crying now.
 
I couldn't help it; it was too much.
 
My awful secret out there, floating in the air between us – unspoken but just as big and real as if I'd vomited it out, all over the floor.
 
"We can do
what,
Tony?
 
Shoot
someone?
 
Show some douchebag who's boss?
 
Because I don't think so!
 
I don't think that's going to work!"

He took a step towards me with the most earnest look on his face ... I could hardly stand it.
 
"We're not going to shoot anyone, Jayne.
 
We don't have to if we leave.
 
But if we stay, I can't promise that won't happen; and I'd like to go to college someday, and not online while I'm wearing an orange jumpsuit if that's okay with you."

I half choked and half laughed at the visions his words created and couldn't help but stop crying at the idea of him in an orange jumpsuit tapping away on a huge computer from the eighties with a glowing green screen.
 
"You'd end up being some guy's bitch for sure."

"Yeah, I know.
 
So let's go, get your stuff."
 
He stepped away from the door to get his big bag, leaving the book bag where it was.
 
For some reason, this was when it really hit me how serious he was.
 
He wasn't taking his school stuff.

I reached down to grab my bag.
 
"Tony."

"Yeah, Jayne?"

"What the hell?"
 
I searched his eyes for some explanation of what was happening.

"Don't worry, Jayne.
 
I've got it figured out ... well, most of it anyway.
 
We'll get the rest figured out later."

The look on his face just blew me away.
 
He totally meant it.
 
He was so friggin' brave and amazing in that moment, I couldn't help it – I leaned in quick and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
 
I was surprised to feel beard stubble there.
 
"You're my hero."

His face blushed bright red.
 
"Yeah, whatever, come on."
 
He opened the door and held it open for me, as usual.
 
Same old Tony – but then again, not the same old Tony.
 
Not the same old Tony at all.

"Does this mean I can't call you Tony Baloney anymore?"

He laughed.
 
"You can call me anything you want, just don't call me late to dinner."

"Ugh, Tony, that is so old.
 
You can do better than that."

"Okay," he said, walking down the front pathway to his driveway, "you can call me anything you want, just don't call me Freak."

"Word to your mutha, Tones."

"Talk about old."

"Whatevs.
 
So, where to?"

"To the bus stop.
 
We're going to Miami."

"What's in Miami?"

"I don't know ... more than what's here."

I shrugged my shoulders
.
 
Might as well.
 
I pulled out my cell phone so I could call my mom.
 
"Okay, so what am I supposed to say to my mom?"

"Tell her we're going to the library to study late.
 
We'll figure out what else to tell her later; we have a few hours."

I made the call really quick and then put my phone in my bag.
 
She never asked questions anymore.
 
I'm not even sure if she'd notice if I never came home; she'd probably be glad.
 
I didn't want to think about why this had become the case at our house because it would harsh my new mellow and I wasn't ready to get all bummed out again yet.
 
There would be plenty of time for that on our little trip because I knew Tony wasn't going to ignore my issues forever.

We walked a few blocks over until we got to the main street.
 
We waited at the bus stop for about two minutes before climbing onto the bus that took us to the Tri Rail station.
 
Tony stepped up to the vending machine and bought us two one-way tickets to Miami.
 

"Okay, so we're here ... now what?"
 
I hitched my backpack up over my shoulder, looking around the station.
 
I was hoping Tony had a plan because I sure didn't.

"You guys lost?"
 

Tony and I turned to look at the guy walking up to us.
 
He seemed to be about our age, maybe a little bit older, definitely scruffier.
 
I was immediately suspicious.

"No, we're not lost, but thanks," said Tony, brushing him off.
 
He dropped his bag from his shoulder to the ground, fishing around in it for what turned out to be a map.

 
"Why do you need a map if you're not lost?" asked the guy, now standing over Tony's stooped form.
 

I seriously wasn't in the mood for this.
 
"Dude, we've got a map, therefore, we're not lost.
 
Do you mind?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender.
 
"Yeah, hey, no problem.
 
I was gonna offer you some help, but I guess you don't need it.
 
See ya later."
 
He strolled away, sitting down on a nearby bench and pulling out a cigarette.

"So where are we, Tony?"
 
I asked in a low voice, keeping my eye on Mr. Helpful over on the bench, sure he was up to something.

Tony stood up next to me, showing me the map.
 
"Well, we're here, at the station."

"And we're going ... ?"

"I'm not sure."

I left off monitoring Mr. Helpful to roll my eyes at Tony.
 
"Whaddya mean, you don't know?
 
Where're we going next?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders.
 
"Wherever you want."

"Tony, this was
your
plan!
 
Where are we going?
 
I'm gonna have to call my mom and tell her eventually."

"Well, to be honest, my plan was to get out of town.
 
I didn't really think much beyond that; I figured you'd come up with something."

I put my fingers on the bridge of my nose, pinching it, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to stop the flood of swear words that were about to fly out of my mouth.
 
"Tones, do you mean to tell me we came all the way down to Miami with twenty bucks between us and no plan at all?"

He looked at me through his impossibly horrible glasses, nodding soundlessly.
 

I looked over at Mr. Helpful who was smirking, blowing out obnoxious smoke rings.
 

"Sure you don't need my help?" he asked loudly, not even looking over at us.
 

I grabbed the map, frustrated, and went over to the bench with Tony on my heels.
 
"Fine. You want to help?
 
Tell us a good place to get some cheap dinner and maybe sleep too."
 
I thrust the map towards him.
 

The weather was nice; I was thinking we could probably just find a nice spot on a beach somewhere and not worry about spending any money.
 
It would be like camping in the Girl Scouts – not that I had ever done that or anything.

"You don't need a map, just follow me."
 
He got up from the bench, rolling his cigarette between his two fingers until the ash fell off the end.
 

Tony and I looked at each other.
 
Man, I wished I could speak telepathically with him because I really didn't want Mr. Helpful hearing what I wanted to say.
 

Tony didn't worry so much about that stuff apparently.
 
"I don't know, Jayne.
 
We don't even know this guy."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that.
 
Name's Jared ... Jared Bloodworth."
 
Mr. Helpful held out his hand to Tony, putting the no longer lit cigarette butt in his front pocket with the other.
 
"You've got nothing to worry about.
 
I'll show you where I stay and you can decide if you want to stay there too or not; it's up to you.
 
Sometimes there's food, too."

Tony took his offered hand, shaking it firmly.
 
I continued to watch Mr. Helpful ... Jared ... trying to figure out if he had any ulterior motives hidden behind his dark brown eyes.
 
I kinda suck at that though, so I gave up, shrugging my shoulders.
 
Tony had his gun, and this guy didn't look too dangerous.
 
He had kind of a freaky name, but that wasn't his fault.
 
He was skinny and not much bigger than me, with brown hair swept around in a casual rocker kind of look.
 
I was thinking I could take him if I had a little adrenaline rush going for me, which I probably would if he was trying to kill me.
 
He looked like he could use a shower, but he didn't exactly appear homeless.
 
His clothes were in decent shape.
 
I still couldn't figure out the cigarette thing, though.
 
Why did he put that disgusting filter in his pocket?
 
I guess it was better than dropping it on the ground.
 
Maybe he was a save-the-environment freak.

Jared walked ahead of us, not seeming to care whether we followed or not.
 
We walked a few blocks away from the train station, down some streets and alleys, into a commercial warehouse area.
 
It was pretty run down, some of the businesses having closed a long time ago.
 
Our destination was in the back of a warren of single story warehouses covered in graffiti.
 

Jared stopped in front of a beige metal door with a heavy-duty lock on it, the kind that has a thick metal plate over the latch area so no one can pick the lock or crowbar the door open.
 
He banged on the door with his fist.
 
"Open up, it's me, Jared."