Read Throwaway Online

Authors: Heather Huffman

Tags: #Romance, #Crime, #Organized Crime, #ozarks, #st louis, #heather huffman, #throwaway, #cherokee street, #jesse james

Throwaway (11 page)

BOOK: Throwaway
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Gabe’s expression was dark. Jessie worried
that she’d ruined their night, but she’d come this far so she took
a deep breath and plunged ahead.

“You know, normally a virgin is worth big
money on the street. So the fact that Spence took that for himself
instead of taking the free money says a lot.”

“So, there was no one in high school… “

“I told you I’ve never done this because I
wanted to before.”

“I guess I didn’t believe you.”

“I don’t want to talk about Spence,” a
shudder ran down the length of Jessie’s spine.

“You know what? I don’t either,” he stood and
stretched.

“Tell me about your family,” Jessie crawled
under the covers of the bed, snuggling up with her pillow and
looking expectantly at Gabe.

“I have one.”

“Mom and Dad?”

“Mom passed away three years ago. Dad’s still
actively disapproving of my life choices.”

“Brothers? Sisters?”

“One older sister. A little bossy, but she
means well and would do anything for me.”

Jessie wondered if his sister was the one who
prepared the cabin for them. She might never tell Gabe this, but
she wanted to meet his father and sister. She wished she was the
kind of woman a man could take home to his family. She’d never
cared about that kind of thing before.

“Hey, what’s with the sad eyes?” he reached
out to stroke her cheek.

“Not sad,” she lied. “I like hearing about
your family.”

“You won’t think that when you meet them,” he
promised. “They’re a colossal pain.”

“Meet them?” her heart soared.

“Sure. But not this week. This week is
ours.”

Jessie didn’t blame him for stalling. The
fact that he had mentioned it at all meant something.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have parents?”

“I’m sure I did at some point,” she shrugged
nonchalantly. “I don’t really remember them, though. Those first
few years were a little hazy…. I mean, I kind of remember flashes
of the house I lived in with my mother. Every now and then I’ll
walk past someone who smells like she did. Roses. Well, that fake
rose smell anyway.”

“You don’t remember her?”

“Not really. Just a dingy brown couch and
rust colored shag carpeting in the house where we lived,” Jessie
reached back into the hidden crevices in her mind. “I do remember
her hands. They were so delicate. I thought she was a fairy
princess because her hands were so delicate.”

“How old were you when you last saw her?”

“I was about five when she went away. A woman
with a nice smile and a blue business suit came and took me to live
with another family. There was always another family after that—or
a group home.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” Gabe
seemed torn between enveloping her in an embrace and the fear she’d
break if he touched her.

“Someone told me that she died. I don’t know
how. I never asked. I guess I figured it didn’t matter so much how
she got there.”

“I’m so sorry,” at that, he did pull her into
his arms. Jessie closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the way it felt
to have a pair of strong arms wrapped around her because they
wanted to protect rather than possess her. “You really got the
shaft in life, didn’t you?”

“Worrying about what’s fair seems like a
waste of time. I try to roll with it and move on.”

“While I agree with you, I’m still going to
be angry on your behalf.”

“Go for it,” Jessie smiled a little. She
liked someone being angry on her behalf.

“Why does that feel like a minor
victory?”

“What?”

“You’re going to let me care what happened to
you,” he grinned.

“I can’t control what you care about,” she
tried to sound disinterested.

“Whatever. I’m winning you over.”

“Why on earth would you want to?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful,
fascinating woman I’ve ever met. Because I’m a better person when
I’m around you. And because you make me laugh.”

“I like your laugh,” Jessie chose not to
remind him that she was the very definition of used goods.

“How did we get so serious all of a
sudden?”

“It’s your fault. You were trying to dodge
telling me more about Jesse James.”

“Oh, is that what happened?”

Jessie nodded primly.

“Then please allow me to atone for my sins,”
he nuzzled her neck, his fingers trailed down her ribs to the small
of her waist.

“That’s not what I meant,” she protested
half-heartedly. “I want to hear about Jesse James. Come on, you
promised.”

“Did I?” he straightened, a mischievous glint
in his eye. “I wouldn’t want to break a promise.”

He rolled onto his back, tucking Jessie
against his side as he decided where to begin. With a deep breath,
he launched into the known history of one of America’s most
notorious outlaws. Even the basics facts, like that he was born in
1847 in Clay County, Missouri sounded better when they were
delivered by his deep, rich voice.

She tossed one leg over his and
absentmindedly traced lazy circles on his washboard stomach as she
listened to him spin a tale of a confused and angry young boy,
following his older brother into the ranks of Will Quantrill’s
raiders in the Civil War. Frank was the ruthless one; Jesse was the
one that captured the imagination of dime novelists. Maybe because
he seemed to regret hurting others. Maybe because he was young and
good-looking.

He rattled off obscure facts and family trees
long into the night. Occasionally the narrative would be broken up
by playful banter or the random kiss. He never did get around to
telling her his theories on James’ staged death, and as she drifted
off to sleep, she promised herself she’d remember to ask him in the
morning.

Only the tender rays of dawn brought a lazy
bought of lovemaking, not more discussions about a bygone bandit.
When they were up and dressed, they took off to explore the
gardens. Gabe remembered they never signed their names on the cave
walls, so that was their next stop. Jessie signed her name under
the initials assumed to belong to James. It just seemed
fitting.

After another quick swim in the pool, they
ate a lunch of cheese and crackers with a bottle of Missouri wine
before whiling away the afternoon sprawled on the bed, talking
about anything and everything.

She told him about Harmony being the smartest
woman she’d ever met and about the friendship she’d formed with
Vance over the years. Though more than five years her junior, he
had lately assumed the role of her protector. They talked about Dan
and what a good guy he was. Gabe told her about the guys at
work—which ones were jerks and which ones were decent.

Under normal circumstances, Jessie would have
been getting restless by the second night. As it was, there was
still so much to learn about him. And there was always his laugh,
which seemed to come much more readily in their current setting.
She couldn’t get enough of that laugh.

For someone who’d never spent more than the
random school fieldtrip away from the city, she found her new
surroundings both fascinating and peaceful. The sky at night was
black velvet, something that could never be achieved with the
lights from the city interfering. The stars sparkled merrily on
their inky backdrop. On their second night in the cabin, they
curled up in the porch swing and admired the stars as they
continued to share anything that came to mind.

The next morning brought with it unwelcome
reminders that their time at the cabin was finite. This would be
their last full day together. They ate a breakfast of fresh fruit
and took a meandering walk in the gardens before he took her on a
longer trek to see the old mill. Of course, he knew the history of
that, too. It was evermore obvious to Jessie he’d brought her to
his home.

It was also evermore obvious to Jessie that
she didn’t want to go back to St. Louis. She liked strolling down a
dirt road with her hand in his. But as the day crept on, it became
harder to ignore the thought worming its way to the front of her
mind. Gabe was going to be furious with her when he found out what
she had asked Spence for.

There probably wasn’t any way to make him
understand why she felt the need to take care of this herself. He’d
probably spout all kinds of reasons why she should let him rescue
her. Maybe he’d be right—she was crazy.

But something deep in her bones longed to be
the one that set her life straight. Like maybe if she could do
this, then she’d really be the kind of woman he could love and she
wouldn’t be just a fascination.

But that wasn’t something she could put into
words, so it did her no good when she finally broke down and told
Gabe what she planned to do. She fully expected him to yell, to
argue his point. She wasn’t prepared for the stony expression that
instantly dropped over his face. He started to speak but the words
couldn’t seem to find their way beyond his throat. With a pained
expression and a terse shake of the head, he stormed out of the
cabin.

“Gabe,” she called, taking off after him once
she’d regained her wits. “Gabe, don’t just walk out on me like
that.”

“No,” he kept walking.

“Gabe! Stop!” Her voice left little room for
disagreement.

“No,” he shook his head as he stopped. “No.
You aren’t going to do this.”

“Why not? You know it’s the best way to find
out what the hell is going on and end this thing.”

“Because it’s hard enough thinking about the
reality of what you do, but not him, Jess. Not him.”

On some level, Jessie understood that. Johns
came and went. They got a few minutes of her life and then she
never saw them again. Spence was different.

“I don’t want to do this,” she closed her
eyes, unable to bear the expression on his face as he turned to
her.

“Then don’t,” his voice was soft, pleading.
“I’ll hide you here. No one will find you here.”

“I can’t live my entire life in a remote
cave, babe. As long as I’m alive, he won’t let me go.”

“Then we’ll fake your death. It’s worked
before. Jessie, please just don’t go through with this.”

“If everything works out like I hope, then
I’ll have what you need on him in no time. Then he’ll be in jail
and I’ll be free. You know it’s the fastest and easiest way to end
this—if your judgment wasn’t clouded, you’d see that.”

“But if he realizes what you’re up to, he’ll
kill you.”

“And I’ll still be free.”

“Don’t… don’t say that,” he rolled his head
as if he could jar that thought loose by doing so. Jessie could
hear the tears in his voice and it ripped out a piece of her soul
to know she’d caused him pain.

“He won’t catch me. I’ve been tap dancing
around Spence for a lot of years. I’ll be fine. And I’m sure
Vance’ll look out for me.”

“I don’t like this at all,” his voice said he
was bending though he still shook his head no.

“Please understand why I have to do this,”
she held her arms open to him.

“I can’t stomach the thought of his hands on
you.”

“I won’t let him touch me,” she promised.

“How are you going to work that one?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll think of something.
I’ll do anything to take that look off your face.”

“I’ll never forgive myself if something
happens to you,” he crossed the distance between them and scooped
her into his arms. She kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his forehead
before he caught her mouth with his own. There was a greed in his
touch she hadn’t felt before. To be fair, there was a certain
amount of greed in her response.

They moved past their first real fight in the
old fashioned way, and spent the rest of the evening intertwined on
the porch swing, wrapped in each other and a quilt. The
conversation centered mostly on how they could incapacitate Spence
enough he wouldn’t be a threat to Jessie, but would still be able
to lead them to the men Gabe had spent years trying to catch.

The later it was, the sillier the suggestions
got. At one point Jessie might have suggested paying someone to
throw a fastball at just the right spot, but tossed the idea aside
because she thought it would be too small a target to hit from a
distance.

It was her last night to sleep curled up at
his side. She wanted to stay awake, to relish every breath he took,
but sleep claimed her despite her intentions. The rays of sunlight
that danced through their window in the morning seemed to taunt
her.

She didn’t want to go. Everything in her
cried out to just run away. As they visited the cave one last time,
she ran her fingers almost lovingly over the initials she’d decided
with certainty were Jesse’s.

“How’d he do it?”

“Fake his death? In the usual way. Paid a
friend to pretend shoot him, buried some poor schmuck who looked
enough like him to pass.”

“He killed someone in his place?” Jessie
didn’t like that idea, it marred the romanticized version she had
dancing through her head already.

“If I remember the story correctly, the guy
beat the crap out of his wife and kids on a regular basis. Jesse
anonymously gave them a decent sum of money in his place.”

“So it worked out, then.”

“For everyone but the schmuck, yes, it worked
out quite well.”

“You never told me how you know all of
this.”

“Local lore has it that Jesse moved to the
Ozark Mountains and started a new life. He fell head-over-heels in
love with the daughter of the family that owned this property at
the time. Her daddy didn’t trust the mysterious stranger that
seemed to drop out of nowhere, so he refused to let them marry. So,
she moved in with him.”

“Why didn’t she just marry him against her
father’s wishes?”

“Who knows? I guess she told herself she
wasn’t disobeying him that way,” Gabe shrugged.

BOOK: Throwaway
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