Author's note: Sad to say the wait for updates is about to get even longer! I'm starting school next week, so I decided to write a quick update before going to work. I hope you all enjoy!
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Jimmy's POV
I crumpled up the money and shoved it back in my pocket. I turned around as I pulled the hood tighter around my face. This man was going to call the cops in no time and explain to them what I looked like and where we're heading.
"Wait!" he yelled out.
His chair screeched as he got up. I looked over my shoulder to see him running toward me. I grabbed my pocketknife and spun around. His eyes grew wide when he saw the blade up against his chest.
"Don't tell anyone," he growled.
"No, no, no," he said shaking his head. "Why would I call the cops on you? You're a legend."
"What?"
"I mean it's only been a few days, so you aren't one yet, but in a year – maybe even less – everyone is going to know who you are and what you've done to those girls."
I gritted my teeth together. This greasy, little rat stood at the other end of my knife with his lips curled into a smirk.
"I can help you," he said.
"How?" I asked.
I pressed the blade harder against his chest. He glanced down at the blade and then back up at me.
"My brother helps out guys like you," he said.
"Guys like me?" I repeated.
He nodded his head and held out his hands. I furrowed my eyebrows together. He must be trying to show me that he had no weapons on him.
"Lower the knife and we can talk," he said. "My name is Peter."
"No." I tightened my grip on the knife. "We're going to talk, but the knife isn't going anywhere."
"Fine then, Jimmy."
My heart jumped in my chest. I knew that Peter knew who I was, but hearing him say my name just confirmed it. News was spreading fast and Tommy and I needed a place to hide.
"My brother runs sort of a halfway house," he told me. "It's for guys jumping court dates, or guys who just hit their old lady and she called the cops on them. I know he'd make room for you and your brother. In fact, he'd be honoured to."
"Honoured?"
"Like I said, you two are going to be legends."
I looked over my shoulder to see the truck sitting next to the pump. Tommy had his head resting against the window. We weren't going to last long on our own, especially with his leg. We could pull off to the edge of the road and camp out in the tailgate with the sleeping bags Gabe gave us, but someone would see us. I wouldn't be able to pull Tommy far enough through the forest for us to sleep thee, and there would be nowhere to hide the truck.
"No one will know we're there?" I asked.
"He's had more than fifty people stay with him. Not on one of them have ever been caught," he said.
"How far away is it?"
"Only like a ten minute drive. I can show you right now. No one ever comes out here anyways. I can leave the station for like half an hour."
I lowered the knife, clicked the blade back in and shoved it into my pocket. Peter's smile grew even wider and he ran his hands through his greasy hair.
"Follow my van," he told me.
He pushed past me and opened up the door. I followed him and he fished for the key out of his pocket and locked up the station. I opened up the door to the truck and slid in. Tommy looked up at me and rubbed his face with his hand.
"I found us a place to stay," I told him as I turned on the ignition.
"What?" he asked. "Are you serious? You go with the first person who offers us you a place to stay?"
"We're running out of options, Tommy," I said. "I have the gun in the back just in case."
The lights to Peter's rusted out van light up. He pulled out of the parking lot and I followed him out onto the street.
"Does he know who we are?" Tommy asked.
I nodded my head. "That's why he wants to help."
"You realize that this makes no sense. Everyone is looking for us. The cops want us because those girls squealed about what we did."
"Carrie talked, not Julie."
I knew Julie wouldn't say anything to the cops. I know she is defending our family against what everyone is saying. She loves our family and I know she wants us to be back together.
I followed Peter's van as he drove farther and farther away from the town. The odd house sat on the edge of the road and was surrounded by a large amount of trees.
He pulled into a drive way, and I followed him up the large dirt road. There was a white house with flaking paint and a garage and shed behind it. They were painted white too, but they were covered in red and black symbols that I've never seen before.
Peter jumped out of his truck and ran up to the front door. I turned off the truck and reached behind the seat and pulled out the gun. I shoved it in the wait of my jeans and pulled my sweater down over it.
"Now, remember," Tommy told me. "If you want to kill somebody, don't aim for the leg."
I shot Tommy a look and he smirked at me. I got out of the truck and went over to Tommy's side. He threw his arm over my shoulders and I eased him out of the truck. He gasped out in pain as he put his foot down on the ground. We shuffled up to the front door.
Peter came back outside with another man behind him. He had a shaved head and a torn pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Tattoos ran up his arms and I noticed a symbol on his neck. It was the same one as the one painted on the shed and garage. His lips lifted into a smile.
"Look who we have here," he said rubbing his hands together. "My name is Steve."
"I'm-. " I started to say.
"No need to introduce yourselves," he said. "Jimmy and Tommy. What an honour to have you two here."
"Why do you want us here?" Tommy said through his gritted teeth. "The cops are looking for us."
"Boys, if you haven't noticed or if my brother hasn't told you, we aren't a fan of cops here."
"What happened to him?" Peter asked.
"He got shot," I told him.
"We should let him sit down," Steve said. "Peter, show them to the garage."
Peter nodded his head and then ran around to the other side of the house. Tommy pushed all of his weight down on my shoulders as I pulled him over to the shed. Peter opened up the small door on the side of the garage and waited for us as we slowly made our way over. Tommy was chewing on his lip to stop himself from yelling out in pain.
"Nobody will find you two here," Peter told us as we got closer.
"Good," I said.
Peter threw Tommy's other arm over his shoulder and we pulled him up over the step and into the garage. Three beds were along the walls with one thin sheet over it. Oil stains were on the ground and a sharp smell stung my nose. We eased Tommy down onto the closest bed.
"Park your truck behind the garage," he said. "That way no one driving by will see it."
"Okay," I said. "What are those symbols painted outside?"
"Swastikas."