Jail Bird. by Em. Z. (best free ebook reader .txt) 📕

so tight I think I bent it. "Where is he?" I snarled.

Ike's insane chuckle made shivers of revulsion wrack down my spine. "He's...what's that code word? Ah, yes, he's in Virginia. He'll be twenty thousand feet under the ocean if you don't find us, and soon. I'm sure you can figure out where we are, can't you, Love? All I'm going to give you is a clue. Bronchi Summers."

I knew that name. Wasn't he the owner of a chain of restaurants that went south after someone poisoned his food? He landed a lot of people in a hospital, and had to give up his restaurant chain to pay for all of the lawsuits. They were in one of his abandoned buildings. They couldn't tear it down because it was right over the ocean, and no one wanted it because of the danger hazards. I remember his slogan, "Our Food's So Good, We'll Run Mc. Donald's Out Of Business!"

There have been a lot of people that suspect the CEO of Mc. Donald's for poisoning the food in the first place, but there was no evidence to link him to the poisoning.

"I'll be there." I said.

"Good." And then the line went dead.

Cereal forgotten, I ran upstairs, dialing the number for the airport. Chills were running down my spine, as I thought about what Ike could be doing to my father. I shuddered at the thought, as I was reserving a ticket.  My happiness was shattered by a simple phone call, but I couldn't dwell on it now, as I stuffed clothes in my backpack, throwing on my leather jacket. I grabbed a box of cookies, stuffing them in my back for later, and a smaller bottle of chocolate milk to drink on the way. Hey, I needed my energy food.

I froze in the middle of packing my Toiletry bag, as a familiar voice cut through my panicked thoughts like a machete in a jungle.

"Going somewhere?"

I slowly looked up, meeting his golden eyes. "Yes."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. "I see, and where exactly do you think you're going?"

I glowered at him. I was so not in the mood for an interrogation. "Far away from here." I said, forcing my voice to sound rebellious.

"I see." He repeated, his eyes briefly flashing down to my backpack, stuffed with clothing.

I sighed heavily, knowing I was going to have to hurt him to get out of here. "Look. This whole...thing between us, it would never work. I'm still the rebellious teenage girl that I was when I was sixteen, and you're the person that throws the rebellious teenage girls in jail. Last night was...fun," I forced myself to spit out the word that didn't even come close to describing what last night was, wincing, "But it would never work out in the long run." I said.

He crossed his arms, unfazed. His eyes moved upward slightly, and a small, sarcastic smile tugged at his lips. "You know, when I first interrogated you, I thought you had no tells, you had perfected the poker face...until I saw your eyebrow twitch upward, just a tiny bit." He said.

Ah shit. My father had told me to look in the mirror, and lie to myself. Watch for any tells, and stop them cold. I must have developed the eyebrow thing. I glared at him, keeping my cool. "My eyebrow twitches upward. Oh, what a convincing tell! Have you ever thought that maybe it only does that in annoyance because you're around?"

He didn't bat an eyelid. "You did it when your mother called you worthless. You tried to play it off, but I could see how it affected you. Face it, Jane, I'm trained to find these things, I know your mannerisms better than you do." A condescending grin formed on his perfect lips.

I glared at him. "Fine. Think what you want. You don't know me. I don't do relationships, alright? I'm leaving, and you can't stop me." I grabbed my backpack, and my toiletry bag, shoving past him.

He caught my wrist in a vise-like grip, pulling me back into him with one hard jerk. I glowered up at him with the intensity of a lioness about to pounce, but his eyes just darkened. He grabbed my chin in his rough grasp, kissing me, rough, demanding, and so, so sexy. I felt like I was in one of those eighties movies, where the saxaphone would play that awkward romance music, and then Victor would hitch my leg up on his hip, and I would have really big hair, and bad clothes, and have a gun on my hip and-

Whoa! Too many eighties movies with my Dad.

He bit down on my lip, causing a moan to escape me, despite my hands pushing against his chest. I was idly aware of his hand sliding into my back pocket, but I didn't pay much attention to it, trying to get away from him before I gave into his sexy body.

I shoved away from him, before his lips could shred my last bit of conscious thought. I wiped my mouth, looking up at him with anger, refusing to be dominated. 

"Bye, bye now." I waved, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He watched with anger in his eyes as I started down the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much leaving scared, and hurt me. I was going out alone, to face my personal devil. If he was going to kill me father, he might as well kill me too.

I ran past the three that were making breakfast, ignoring my mother's calls, asking me where I was going. I ran out the door, slamming it behind me. Hmm...maybe I should steal a car. It'd have to be one that not many people cared about, and I'd have to be on the plane before the police could find it...or it could be that beautiful cherry red Mustang Shelby sitting in that driveway.

A sly smile formed on my lips. I want that one. I made sure I was out of sight of the summer home, and pulled the handle of the door. Locked. Not a problem. I grabbed my folded up hanger from my backpack, always on hand for those rebellious moments, and shimmied the lock. 

I learned to hot-wire a car when I was fifteen. It's no big deal. I just hoped this beauty worked as good as it looked. 

I sparked the wires a few times, and bingo! The car roared to life. I was so lucky no one was home to see this. I backed out of the driveway, relazing into the new leather seating. This baby had it all. I grinned, waving to Victor, who ran outside at the sound of the roaring engine. He looked furious, but I didn't pay much attention to it, as I sped off, the tires squealing. I turned on the radio, letting Led Zeppelin fill the car. My favorite song, Rock and Roll.

"It's been a long time since I've rock and rolled!" I sang along. "It's been a long time since I did the stroll! Oh let me get it back, let me get it back, let me get it back, baby where I come from!"

I drummed along on the steering wheel, bobbing my head to the music and dancing in my seat. 

I got my mind off of the fact that I could be Ike's prisoner for a while, by letting Rock and Roll fill my ears, turning the radio up loud and rolling down the windows for others to hear the awesomeness that is Led Zeppelin. I stopped at a red light, banging my head and air guitaring. 

Some people looked at me like I was crazy, but I didn't care, this was my last moments of freedom. I was spending them happily. 

The light turned green, and I sped off, not-so-carefully following the signs to the airport. I was lucky I didn't see any cops, because I was weaving in and out of lanes. The radio station I was on pretty much loved me, because they were having a Zeppelin countdown, and the next song was Communication Breakdown. Yes!

I drove with me knees, air guitaring. I knew I probably looked drunk, swerving all over the road, but I just didn't seem to care. 

"Communication Breakdown, it's always the same!" I sang, "Havin' a nervous breakdown, drives me insaaa-aane!"

I turned down my music as I got to the toll booth, slowing to a stop. The ticket slid out of the little slot, and I gave the guy a two-fingered salute, speeding through the gate. I wasn't going ti be the one to drive this car out of here. I turned my music back up, drumming on the wheel. I weaved through cars, getting a lot of honks, and not really caring. I parked in a one hour parking zone, leaving the car unlocked, and the keys in the cup holder. I grabbed a pen from the middle console, and wrote 'Have a nice day bitches.' On the back of the admissions card, with a smiley face for extra sass. I got out of the car, sliding the card under the windshield wiper and grabbing my bags from the back.

I strolled into the airport, standing in line for my ticket. When I finally got up to the lady, I gave her an award winning smile. "Hi, I called someone earlier about a ticket to California? My name is Helen Siggs?" I pulled out my fake ID, showing it to her.

She examined the ID, and then put my name into the data-base. She nodded to herself, handing me a ticket. "Have a nice flight, Ms. Siggs."

"And you have a nice day." I said, my smile turning smug as I got the ticket from her.

I went through security, rolling my eyes as I took off my jacket, and my belt. I set my backpack on the conveyer belt, and watched as they rifled through my toiletries, letting me keep most of it, but throwing away the rest. They rifled through my bag, searching for any weapons or something I could be hiding from them. The whole process took too much time, as I looked around for the police. No one noticed my anxiousness, as they went slower than mollasses. Finally, I got my bags, and my shoes, back. I slipped on my jacket and put my belt back on, heading for the gate to wait for my plane to arrive.

I tapped my foot, my eyes searching for any signs that the police had caught up. That could not happen. Hell, I didn't even know if Victor reported his neighbors car being stolen. My phone ringing caught my attention.

"Hello."

"Hello, Love. What are you doing?"

"I'm in the airport. And please stop calling me Love, it's creeping me out." I said, leaning back in my chair. "Where's Dad?"

"He's...out of commission." He chuckled darkly.

"You evil son of a bitch. What did you do to him?" I hissed.

"Ah, ah, ah, bad language, I don't like it when you speak to me that way. I guess I'll have to punish you." He sighed, as if I'd dissapointed him.

"I'm hours away, in a public place, how do you plan on-"

I was cut off by a loud smack, and then a familiar voice cried out. "Dad? No, please don't hurt him I-"

Another smack, followed by a grunt. "I'm sorry!" I cried frantically into the phone. "I didn't mean it, I-I'm sorry! Don't hurt him!"

"Get here, ASAP, or your father get's much worse." He growled, and then the line went dead.

I set the phone down, noticing that everyone stared at me with raised eyebrows, alarmed looks on their faces. I smiled sheepishly. "It's a drama play. I was, ah, acting out my lines." I lied smoothly.

Everyone relaxed. Gullible idiots. I scanned the crowds again, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. My eyes did settle on a man with sunglasses, sitting in the corner. He was reading a magazine. Something just seemed a