Halfway to Anywhere (Wild Child #1) Read online

  Copyright © 2016 Sydney Logan

  Published by Enchanted Publications

  Cover design by T.M. Franklin

  Cover images by Antonioguillem and zhu difeng/Adobe Stock

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All trademark references mentioned in this book are the property of the respective copyright holders and trademark owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Sydney Logan

  Visit Enchanted Publications

  Life on the streets is hard.

  Life on the run is harder.

  Two troubled teens try to escape their horrific pasts in hopes of a brighter future.

  Together.

  “Is that all for ya?”

  I nod at the cashier, whose name tag reads Ruben, and place the small bag of potato chips on the counter. It’s not exactly a healthy lunch, but it’s the best I can do with the change in my pocket. As he rings me up, I glance at the candy bar display and consider grabbing a Snickers for dinner.

  Ruben won’t notice. I mean, he never has before.

  I peek at the line forming behind me. This little store is one of my favorites because it’s on the outskirts of town and doesn’t usually have a lot of customers. But today is Saturday, and clearly my timing is crap, because the place is crowded. Too crowded to snatch the chocolate without getting busted.

  “You need a nickel,” Ruben says.

  “No. I bought this same bag of chips last week and it was exactly eighty-six cents.”

  “Price changed, kid. You owe me a nickel.”

  Embarrassed, I pretend to search my empty pockets. A normal eighteen-year-old girl would run out to her car and dig in the cup holder for some spare change, but I’m not a normal girl. There’s no car, and there’s definitely no spare change.

  The customers grow restless behind me. The longer I stand here, the more attention I’m going to get.

  The last thing I want is attention.

  “That’s all I have,” I whisper.

  “Sorry, kid.” Ruben places the bag of potato chips out of reach and motions toward the next customer.

  With my head bowed, I step aside. I’m almost to the door when a voice stops me in my tracks.

  “Are you serious? You’re not giving her a bag of chips because she’s a nickel short?”

  I should keep walking, but I’m not used to having someone defend me, so I turn toward the voice. It’s a guy, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans. He’s probably close to my age, and he’s glaring at Ruben with a stare so intense that it causes goosebumps to erupt on my skin.

  “It’s a nickel. Five cents. You can’t spare five cents?”

  A few of the customers shuffle their feet and look at the ceiling. Others murmur their agreement that it’s “only a nickel.” The rest are staring right at me, their eyes filled with pity as they take in my worn sneakers and threadbare jacket.

  It’s official. I’ll never be able to show my face in this store again. I’m memorable now, and the last thing a shoplifter wants to be is memorable.

  The cashier smirks. “Son, I’m here to make money, not give it away.”

  “Give the girl the chips.”

  “Not happening.”

  Suddenly, my defender reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun. The customers scream, and everyone hits the floor.

  Everyone but me.

  “Give her the chips. Better yet, give her everything in the register.”

  People continue to scream. A few kids start to cry. The thief tells everyone to calm down. That he won’t hurt anyone as long as they cooperate.

  “And reaching for your cell phone is the opposite of cooperating,” he warns.

  I should be petrified, but I’m not.

  I’m fascinated.

  Ruben moves with lightning speed, filling the plastic shopping bag with the money in the register. The guy’s voice is soft but firm, and the way he holds the gun assures me this isn’t his first hold-up.

  “Don’t forget the chips,” he says.

  Ruben quickly stuffs the chips into the bag and hands it to him. As the guy rushes for the door, he stops right in front of me.

  And he smiles.

  “Comin’ with me?”

  He has no way of knowing it, but at this moment, I’d follow him anywhere.

  “You’re gonna puke if you don’t slow down.”

  I mumble something completely unintelligible as I devour my third beef burrito. I’d nearly cried when, after an hour on the interstate, he’d taken an exit that led us straight to a Taco Bell drive-thru. It’s the first hot meal I’ve had in days. I don’t care that it’s ninety degrees outside or that the cheese is burning my tongue. It’s gooey and delicious and so much better than a crappy bag of chips.

  We’d introduced ourselves during the hour-long drive, but besides his name and age, I’ve learned very little about my knight in shining armor (which is actually leather armor, if you want to get technical). His name’s Silas, and he’s eighteen, just like me. I’m pretty sure that’s not all we have in common, considering he carries a gun and held up that convenience store like a pro. It’s easy to assume his life is crap, just like mine, but I haven’t asked. I figure he’ll tell me if he wants me to know.

  I feel like I should say something, though. A thank you if nothing else. So I do.

  “Thanks, Silas.”

  “You’re thanking me for burritos?”

  “Not just for the burritos.”

  His smile is like nothing I’ve ever seen.

  “You’re welcome, Jacey.”

  He lets out a heavy sigh as he continues to drive. I immediately panic, because I don’t know what that sigh means. Maybe he’s already regretting asking me to come along. Maybe he’s wondering why I’m not asking questions. Any sane person would be. I mean, I should probably ask him where we’re going. That would be a logical question. But the truth is I really don’t care where he’s taking me.

  Suddenly, images of stupid girls who climb into cars with complete strangers start to flash through my mind. Girls whose parents actually give a shit whether they come home at night. Girls whose friends actually cry if they disappear without a trace.

  That won’t happen with this girl.

  I have no friends, and my parents are dead.

  One person will miss me, though. It might take a few days, but Stepdaddy Dearest will definitely be wondering where I am when I don’t show up for work.

  I’m his best cook, after all.

  “I need to switch cars with a buddy of mine,” Silas says. “Kaden’s house is huge. Lots of empty rooms. Plenty of king-sized beds. We can crash there tonight. It’ll be safe.”

  I nod. Honestly, he had me at bed.

  “Tomorrow I’m driving to Mexico. I have a cousin there. Fresh start and all that. If that’s not cool with you, let me know where you wanna go and I’ll get you there. I didn’t plan on going so s
oon, but since I just robbed a store, I figure it’s probably best I get the hell out of town.”

  “Why did you do that?” I close my eyes, instantly regretting the question. “Never mind. It’s really none of my business why you did it.”

  “Why? Because Ruben Lambert is an asshole. He owns six stores. Six. He couldn’t spare a nickel to someone who obviously needed it?”

  “He’s the owner? Why was he working the register?”

  “Ruben likes to keep an eye on things. He doesn’t know me, but I know all about him. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime.” Silas chuckles and nods toward the plastic bag of cash. “Bet he’s wishing he’d just given you that nickel now.”

  “So you did it for me? Why would you do that?”

  He doesn’t answer me until we reach his friend’s house. Buried deep in the woods, the house is gorgeous, with walls made of glass, which makes me wonder if this really is a safe place for us.

  Silas turns off the ignition and turns his body toward me.

  “I did it for you because you need it. That money’s yours. It’s probably not much, but you can buy some shoes. Some decent food. Some clothes. Whatever you need. Ruben Lambert doesn’t need what’s in that bag. You do.”

  I laugh nervously. “So, what? You’re like Robin Hood? Steal from the rich and give to the poor?”

  He shrugs. “Can you think of a better reason?”

  “But what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Don’t you need the money?”

  “Sure, we all need money.” Silas nods toward the house. “But I have Kaden. He’ll take care of me. I get the feeling you don’t have a Kaden.”

  I don’t even know who Kaden is, but it’s a safe bet that I don’t have anyone like him. I certainly don’t have a friend who lives in a house like this. And I definitely don’t have someone who will take care of me. Vince would, if I played by his rules. But I’m eighteen now, and I don’t have to play by his rules anymore.

  “Ready to go?” Silas asks. “You can leave the burrito wrappers. This car will be in the junk yard by sunrise, anyway.”

  I don’t ask what that means. I just grab the bag of cash and climb out of the car. Silas pops the trunk and pulls out a camo duffel. After taking one last look inside the glove compartment, he locks the car and leads me toward the front door. He doesn’t even knock. Just walks right in like he owns the place.

  “Kaden?” His voice echoes through the house.

  A woman suddenly appears, wearing a maid’s uniform. If she’s surprised to see us, you wouldn’t know it. She just smiles and pulls Silas into a hug.

  “It’s good to see you, Silas.”

  “Thanks, Deb. Is Kaden around?”

  “He had some business. He said for you to make yourself at home.”

  Silas places his hand along the small of my back. “This is Jacey. She’ll be in the room next to mine, okay?”

  Deb smiles at me. “Welcome, Jacey. It’ll be nice to have another woman in the house.”

  “No Mel?” Silas asks.

  The woman shakes her head. “Melody hasn’t been around in a few weeks. It’s hard for her, you know.”

  Silas nods. “I know. I’m gonna show Jacey her room.”

  “If you need anything just let me know.”

  “She could probably use some clothes.”

  Deb sizes me up.

  “She’s a little taller than Melody, but not by much. I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Thanks.”

  Silas gently leads me toward the stairs. His hand is still resting on my lower back. It’s weird in the very best of ways.

  “There are literally ten bedrooms to pick from, but I thought you might feel more comfortable close to mine.”

  “I would.”

  We reach the top of the stairs and head down a long hallway. He stops at the end and opens a door.

  “Here you go,” he says, flipping the switch.

  We step inside, and I gasp as the room is flooded with light. It’s like something out of a magazine, with gorgeous black furniture and a giant television screen mounted on the wall. Moonlight streams in through the tall windows and lands right on the beautiful white blanket on the bed.

  It’s a bed. A real bed. With pillows and everything.

  Deb walks into the room and offers me a bag. “I didn’t know what you might need, so I put a little of everything in here. I found some jeans, T-shirts, and socks.” She glances at Silas before dropping her voice. “I even found some underwear. Don’t worry. The tags are still on them.”

  Silas chuckles, and my face flames.

  “Thanks.”

  “There’s some sneakers in there, too. They may be too small, but we can get whatever you need. Just let me know.”

  I’m not used to this. The kindness of strangers isn’t something I get very often.

  “Thank you . . . for everything.”

  She says goodnight before heading back down the hallway.

  “You have your own bathroom,” Silas says. “You should definitely check out the jetted tub. We’re talking epic.”

  I know it’s his nice way of saying I stink. I don’t take offense, even if it is embarrassing.

  “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Silas.”

  He smiles and starts to leave. Suddenly, he stops and turns back around. I can’t read the expression on his face, but he looks . . . anxious?

  Silas gently closes the door and walks over to me. Taking my hand, he leads me to the bed. We sit, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

  “Jacey, do you have any questions for me?”

  I know I should. I should have a million. But in this moment, in this room, with this big, warm bed calling my name, the very last thing I want to do is spoil it with a lot of questions.

  Besides, if I ask mine, he’ll surely have some of his own.

  “I do, but can I ask them in the morning?”

  Silas smiles and squeezes my hand.

  “In the morning,” he says.

  “How old is she, Silas?”

  I shake my head. Is he serious with this shit?

  “I tell you that I robbed a store—one of Lambert’s stores, no less—and you’re worried about her age?”

  Kaden groans and downs his drink before answering.

  “Yes, I’m worried. I’m worried that we’ll need to add kidnapping . . . and statutory rape . . . to the list of crimes you committed today. I just want to be prepared.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “No, Kaden.”

  “No? To which?”

  “No to both. She’s eighteen. And she very willingly climbed into my car.”

  My best friend sighs and leans back against the sofa. I know he’s not happy with me. I’ve created a shit storm. I know it. He knows it. I just wonder if Sebastian knows it.

  I’m guessing not—since he’s not here.

  “Did it have to be one of Ruben’s stores? With Ruben working the register?”

  “It’s not like I planned it.”

  “And what are you doing with a gun?”

  “It’s for protection.”

  He chuckles darkly. “You’re out, remember? You shouldn’t need protection.”

  “Yeah, well, some of our associates didn’t get the memo.”

  “Is that why you’re headed to Mexico?”

  I nod. “I just wasn’t planning on going tonight.”

  “That’s your problem, Silas. You never plan. You don’t think about the consequences of your actions. It’s what makes you a liability.”

  None of this is news. I’ve heard it so many times. It’s just one of the many reasons why I’m no longer on the payroll.

  “Listen, Kaden, I don’t need a lecture. Just give me my money and Jacey and I—”

  “That’s another thing.”

  “There’s another thing?”

  “You’re gonna get that girl killed.”

 
I start to argue. I try to find the words to convince him, and myself, that getting her hurt . . . or worse . . . isn’t a possibility. But I’d be lying. In our world, it’s always a possibility, and it’s a possibility I don’t want to consider.

  “She has nobody, Kade.”

  “I doubt that. Everybody has somebody.”

  “I don’t think so. You should have seen her big brown eyes light up when she saw that bed.”

  “Well, it is a nice bed.”

  I shake my head, because he doesn’t understand. He’s never been hungry. Never been cold. Never wanted for anything. Never needed anything he couldn’t have with just the snap of his fingers.

  I have.

  “Big brown eyes, huh?”

  I blink rapidly. “Huh?”

  “You said Jacey has big brown eyes.”

  “So?”

  Kaden smirks and walks over to the bar, pouring himself another drink.

  “Come on, Silas. It’s not the first time you’ve let a pretty girl get you into trouble.”

  “I didn’t say she was pretty.”

  “But she is, right?”

  “You mean underneath the stringy hair and the dark circles under her eyes and the dirt under her fingernails? Or the holes in her shoes and the stench of her clothes?”

  “Yeah, underneath all that.”

  “I guess. Maybe. Possibly . . .” I shrug, as if the big brown eyes comment hadn’t totally given me away.

  Kaden just gives me a look, confirming he knows I’m full of shit.

  “Fine. Yes, she’s pretty. But that’s not why I did it.”

  Kaden chuckles and walks back over to the couch. “Well, I hope so. I mean, if we’re adding armed robbery to your rap sheet, I would at least hope you’re getting a pretty girl out of it. If we can keep you out of jail long enough to actually get to know her.”

  “Which is why we’re headed to Mexico. So I’ll ask again. Are you going to give me my money or not?”

  Kaden sighs and closes his eyes. He may be my best friend, but I’m well aware that I’m a gigantic pain in his ass. Always have been. He only hired me because we’d been best friends since second grade. Normally, Kaden Rhodes doesn’t hang out with street rats like me. People who don’t have a steady job or an extra dime to their names but, somehow, still manage to scratch up enough money to get high. And to stay high.