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Authors: Trevion Burns

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BOOK: Dead or Alive
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Violet’s brown eyes doubled in size as she fully grasped what was happening.

“Get out of the boat,” Remy commanded.

Her fingers curled unconsciously around the safety handle she’d been clutching for the entire ride.

Remy continued to avoid eye contact with her, motioning to the yellow box. “Take this E.L.T, and turn it on when I’m gone.  It’s not as powerful as the one I gave the old man, but someone will be here for you soon.  No more than a few hours.”  He couldn’t meet her eyes.  “You’re free, Violet.”  When she didn’t move his voice rose. “Take the god damn E.L.T and go.”

Violet’s chest heaved, and her nails clawed at the body of the boat. “No.”

Remy’s eyes finally rose to hers.  They were now filled with anger.  He leaned down until they were eye to eye.  This woman was truly maddening.  “I’m telling you that you can go, so go.  Get the hell out of here. Get the hell away from me, and don’t ever look back.”

Violet was struck at the forceful tone of his voice.  He’d kidnapped her and almost gotten her killed on more than one occasion in less than 24 hours, but this was the first time she’d ever seen any real honesty in his eyes.  Any real truth.  Her instincts finally read his actions as genuine.  He really
did
want her to leave him, and never look back. He really wasn’t going to hurt her.  She’d known it all along, but to have it confirmed sent a feeling so powerful washing over her, it nearly bent her spine.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, defiantly.  “You’ve terrorized me against my will all day long, Archibald.  You’ve treated me like a total barbarian since the moment we met.  You no longer get to decide when I do or don’t leave.  I decide.  And I’m not leaving.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No.  I’m thinking real clear.”

“Let me make sure I have this straight.”  He motioned to her with the gun.  “I kidnapped you at gunpoint, you spent the better part of the day trying to escape me when I needed you most, you got me shot in the leg, tried to steal my gun, and made me damn near crash a helicopter that had both of us
inside
of it.  All to escape me.  Now I’m standing here, telling you you’re free to go, and you’re refusing to leave?”

Violet thought about everything he just said, then nodded.  “Sounds about right.”


Why
?”

“Because I don’t believe you’re a murderer.  And I want to help you.”

Remy hated the way her words immediately warmed his heart. “The hell you do.  You’re just like any other reporter.  You think you’re going to get the story of your life out of this…” His words slowed to a stop, and he stood a little taller. “Wow. I just realized how I know you.”

“Had you been wondering?”

“All day.  There was something about your face that was ringing some bell in my head, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.  It finally hit me, just now. This is Violet Chambers KLAV, over and out,” he sang, in a high-pitched voice.  The corner of his lip curled up, but it fell weakly in mere moments.

“I don’t say ‘over and out.’ I would never say ‘over and out.’”

“You’ve gotten many a lonely prisoner through many dark, sleepless nights
, Violet Chambers
.”

“If you read half of the fan letters I get down at the station, you’d realize how
not
surprising that actually is.”  Her eyes searched his.  It was a nice moment they were having, and she saw the exact moment when his eyes changed.

“Don’t be an idiot,
Violet Chambers
.”  The smile had vanished, and his voice grew deep and gravely.  “Get out of the boat.”

“Stop saying my name like that.  And I’m not getting out of the boat.”

“Get out of the damn boat before I take you out myself.”

He could hardly stand on his own two legs, so the threat fell flat. Violet wasn’t afraid.  Not in the least.  It showed on her face.

Infuriating woman.  Remy’s eyes searched hers before he reached out and grabbed her arm, but Violet pulled back, fighting him.  She wasn’t blind to how weak he’d gotten.  Back at the courthouse he’d thrown her around like a ragdoll, like it was nothing, now she could feel his struggle.  The man was in pain.

“Stop fighting me.  Don’t you understand that I want to help you?”

“You want to help yourself,” he countered, his breath taking on a soft wheeze.

They struggled for several long moments until the sound of the boat’s engine coming to a sudden halt froze them both in mid wrestle.  They stood, arms linked, hair tousled and eyes wide when the boat at their feet came to a complete standstill.

It was dead.

“I guess neither of us are going anywhere now,” she said.

Remy’s chest heaved and he licked his lips, mind racing.  Suddenly, he was stumbling out of the stalled boat, dragging her after him as he climbed onto the low dock.

“Ouch!” She tripped behind him on the dock.  She looked down when the cold, rickety wood of the dock began scratching at the beds of her feet.  When had she lost her heels?  Her heart sank when she realized they were at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.  She could have killed him for that alone.  Fury coursed through her.

“Let me go, Archibald.”

“I’m trying to let you go.  So go.” With the little strength he had left, Remy yanked at her arm, and then released it, stepping to the side and watching as she stumbled forward.  “Go,” he screamed.  Fury enveloped him when she turned back to him with those big, big eyes.  Those eyes.  They gutted him from inside out.

She glared at him, adjusting the thin strap of her cami.  “I meant let go of my arm.  Not me.  I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not--”

“Is everything all right out here?”

Remy and Violet’s eyes widened simultaneously, brown on blue, and they remained frozen in shock, just watching each other, for several long moments.

Remy was the first to look over Violet’s shoulder and toward the unfamiliar voice. His mouth dropped in astonishment just as Violet turned on her heel and took in the sight, as well.

An old woman, who had to be pushing a hundred, stood about ten feet away from them, clutching a lightweight green cardigan around her frail body.

“What in the world is going on out here?” Her voice took on that grandmotherly tone that only came with age.  Her grey hair was cut into a short, curly mop at the top of her head, and she couldn’t have been an inch over five feet tall.

Violet’s heart leapt.  This was somebody’s tiny grandmother.  What the hell was she doing out here in these creepy woods at night, all by herself?

Sure that she’d detected a slight southern accent in the woman’s voice, Violet suddenly jumped in front of Remy, blocking his gun-toting, handcuffed hand. She smiled warmly down the dock at the woman.  “Oh, Miss, my husband at I are just plumb lost. We’re newlyweds and just moved into the neighborhood.  Bless his heart, he’ll die before he’ll ever ask for directions, so we seem to have veered right off track. My sincerest apologies…”

Remy cast a look at her.  Was she speaking with a Southern accent?

Violet continued. “We’re real new around these parts.  Thought we’d take the boat out for a quick spin and got ourselves good and lost.  Perhaps you could… help us out?”  Violet gave her best newscaster smile.

The old woman drank it in, her serious face giving way to laughter. “Well absolutely sugar!  Aren’t you just the cutest thing?  I’m Barbara.”

“I’m Violet, and this is…”  Violet almost said his name, but stopped herself.

Apparently, Barbara didn’t need it. “Come on inside, and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

“Do you live out here all by yourself?”  Violet asked, conversationally, feigning interest.

Barbara clutched her sweater tighter around her body, and sighed heavily.  “Widowed for seven years now. Can’t find the heart to get rid of this run down old cabin of his. Come on now, follow me.  It’s not far from here.  He just loved it out here, you know, my late husband…”

“Mmmhmm…” Violet nodded absently as Barbara began away from them, carrying on and on.  She looked to Remy, who was already shaking his head.

“No,” he mouthed, eyes widening.  “No, no, no.”

Looking into his eyes, Violet called to Barbara. “Well we’d be just delighted to come inside.  Just tickled pink!”  Still looking right at Remy, Violet began following after Barbara.  “Thank you kindly, Barbara.”

“Come on.  Come on now,” Barbara demanded, waving them forward from where she’d gained a sizeable head start.  “The house is just right up the way.”

“What the hell…” Remy whispered frantically, limping up next to Violet as they followed closely behind tiny little Barbara.

“You look like death. You’re skin is whiter than the moon in the sky,” Violet whispered right back. “You’re in no shape to move another inch.  You need rest and antibiotics. I’m sure this old lady has plenty of meds.  She might even have some gasoline lying around the house that we can put in that dead boat.  Just be cool, and follow my lead.”

It hit Remy for the first time today that he’d definitely snatched the wrong woman.  Someone he’d meant to be a temporary hostage was quickly proving to be an even larger thorn in his side than the police who were on his tail.

“You are absolutely insane, woman.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

4

 

A short fifteen-minute walk later, Barbara was pushing open the door to a log cabin that was situated deep into the woods.  Violet and Remy followed closely behind her.  The walk had quickly proven too much for Remy, who now had an arm slung over Violet’s shoulder, using her as a crutch. He’d kept his gun-clad hand hidden squarely behind his back the entire way.

The warmth of the home immediately engulfed both of them the moment they stepped in.  It smelled of cookies and cider. The cabin had vaulted ceilings, and was covered in antique furniture.  Dozens of pictures were situated all over the room, spanning several decades. If she didn’t already have the world on her shoulders, Violet would have had half a mind to sit down and rack Barbara’s brain… hear her story.

“Now, let’s get you two a shower and some fresh clothes,” Barbara said, hobbling down into the long, dark hallway.

“Oh, thank you kindly, Barbara. If you ain't just the sweetest lil’ thang…”  Violet purred, still keeping up that Southern accent flawlessly.

Remy watched her.  The woman was not only an excellent newscaster, but also an excellent liar.  During the long walk up there she’d convinced Barbara that the two of them had been thrown from the boat in their quest to find land, which was the reason they were soaking wet, and the reason that Remy had a serious “scratch” in his leg.  The prison garb and handcuffs?  Post wedding role play, and a sex toy they’d lost the key too. That one had tickled Barbara pink. Violet was a natural storyteller, and Barbara had eaten it all up with a spoon.  Feeling like a new man already, just being out of the water and in a warm home, Remy almost thanked Violet, but he knew better. He couldn’t encourage this unreasonable woman in any way.

“I have to get out of here,” he grumbled, as they followed Barbara down a long hall.  “I have to keep moving.”

Violet kept her voice to a whisper. “We’re not going anywhere until you’ve had a shower and we’ve tended to that wound in an appropriate manner.  You’re going to be dead soon if we don’t get that taken care of, and we can’t prove you’re innocent if you’re dead.”

“Here we are…” Barbara lead them into the cabin’s only guest room.  In minutes she had extra towels and toiletries laid out on the bed for both of them.  “This is the room my children stay in during the few visits they make down here.  You two can feel free to change into some fresh clothes.  Lord knows they’re never around long enough to utilize them.”  Barbara hobbled to the door. “I’ll go get started on that hot chocolate while you two get cleaned up.  Oh.”  She paused at the door. “And the hot water in the shower only lasts about ten minutes, so try to be quick.”

Remy watched the old woman disappear out the door and turned to Violet.  “Something’s off.  I don’t like it.”

Violet was already picking through the closet where were both men’s and women’s clothes hung from dusty hangers.  She could tell it had been quite a while since anyone had been in this closet.

“She seems lonely,” Violet said. “What kind of people don’t visit their own mother in the middle of the woods?” She pulled out a change of clothes for she and Remy before disappearing into the bathroom.

Remy listened with wide eyes as the shower roared to life.  “Chambers?”

Violet came out of the bathroom and pointed inside.  “The sooner you shower and clean out that wound, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Stop saying we.
We
are not a
we
.”  He motioned between the two of them.  “I don’t need your help!”  The outburst alone was enough to make his head start to spin.

“Look at you, you can barely stand on your own two feet.”

“Yes, because someone got me
shot
.”

“Talking is not going to help.  Just get in the damn shower and lay down for a minute while I figure out what kind of meds Barbara has around here.  Then we can go.  Come on,” she cooed, as if she were talking to a baby.  She placed her hand on the gun that was still clutched behind his back, and to her surprise, he released it.  Pressing her other palm to the small of his back, she pointed toward the bathroom.

Remy was beyond frustrated and stressed, but he’d be lying if he said that a shower and some sleep didn’t sound like heaven on Earth right now.  With hesitation, he followed Violet’s outstretched finger, limping toward the open door of the bathroom.

“Do you need help getting undressed?”


No
.”  He wasn’t some invalid, and he refused to allow her to see him as such.  He couldn’t give her that kind of power over him if he was ever going to get rid of her.

“Well, I’m next, so don’t use up all the hot water…”

He threw her one last look before pulling his orange shirt over his head, not without effort, and closing the door softly.

 

***

 

Minutes later, Violet returned to the guest room clutching a bottle and a glass of water.  She closed the door just in time to see Remy emerge from the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.

She froze in the doorway at the sight of his strong body.  The work he’d done to bulk up in prison had certainly paid off.

The water from the shower still clung to his long frame, giving the strong dips and curves of his chest even more definition. The burden of his muscles pulled his skin taut over each solid arch, as if on the verge of tearing at any moment. He stopped in mid step when he caught sight of her at the door, and his biceps flexed as he reached for the towel at his waist, ensuring it was in place. The valley of abs on his stomach crunched tight the moment his eyes met hers.

Violet gaped at his response, six-pack, calves, arms--every inch of him—flexing at the sight of her.  That prison uniform certainly did him no justice.  He had the body of a Greek God.  She was stunned, only able to swallow away her surprise after her eyes had their fill of him.  She closed the door behind her, while shaking the pill bottle in her hand.  “Turns out our dear Barbara is the town nurse.”

Remy raised an eyebrow.  “Town?”

“You and I have found ourselves in the small California town of Suede Falls. Population…” She held up three fingers.  “Three hundred.  I checked the map, and it’s about an hour outside Santa Cruz.” She shook her head, still amazed at the ground they’d covered.  They were almost two hundred miles away from Redding.

The moment Remy heard Santa Cruz, his best friend Jason leapt into his mind, and his heart soared.  He hated to accept that Violet’s presence had been bringing him nothing but blind luck since the moment he’d taken her in his arms, but the fact that they’d managed to crash in a town an hour away from the only other person, besides her, who believed in his innocence, made it difficult for him to deny her power.  “I have a good friend in Santa Cruz.”

“Do you think we should stop there on our way out of here?”

We.

Our.

The sound of those words leaving her mouth immediately corrected the foolish path his jumbled mind had almost taken, and his eyes hardened once more.

He had to get rid of her.

She made her way over to him, palming a few pills out of the bottle. “Take these,” she whispered, once again, holding her breath when she found herself within touching distance of his naked body.  Her eyes narrowed.  She needed him to put some clothes on immediately.

Remy swallowed back the pills with ease, accepting the glass of water she offered right after.  “Leave me, Chambers.”

Violet’s eyes still lingered on his abs.  “I told you, I’m not leaving.”  She motioned to the clothes on the bed.  “I laid out some jeans and a t-shirt.  They might be a little tight on you but…”  Her words slowed to a stop when he looked down at her intensely.  “I’m gonna…”  She motioned to the shower, before disappearing into the bathroom.

The hot water lasted much longer than Barbara had warned, and Violet found herself held prisoner for the second time that day.  This time it was the amazing feeling of hot water splashing against her naked skin that held her.  When she finally stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom, finding it empty, her heart stopped.

Remy was gone.

She cursed herself as she raced out of the room.  What an idiot she’d been to have taken that long of a shower. Remy wanted her out of his hair, and they had now switched places.  She was no longer the flight risk.

He
was.

Violet raced into the living room in just a towel, and stopped short.

There he was, sitting spread eagle in a dining chair with Barbara behind him.  The sweet old woman was cutting Remy’s hair with a pair of kitchen sheers.

Violet sighed in relief, and couldn’t help the smile that spread to her face.  She’d never tell Remy how much she liked his long hair, but she couldn’t deny how adorable he looked sitting there getting it cut. He looked like a little boy.

“That was a long shower,” he said. “Barbara’s been taking care of me.”

Violet’s gaze fell to Remy’s leg, which had been expertly cleaned and bandaged.

He smirked at her, his eyes falling down her half naked body.  When his eyes rose back to hers, they said a lot of things she wasn’t ready to hear.

Violet self-consciously tightened the towel around her.  “Well, I’m glad,” she whispered.  “I’m just gonna go…” She motioned behind her to the bedroom and made her way back, surprise still coursing through her.  The thought of Remy being gone had scared her.  So much that it left her speechless.  She knew that she cared about getting the story, but she hadn’t realized just how much she cared until she was sure she’d lost it.

This time, she moved quickly.  Barbara’s daughter was, thankfully, exactly Violet’s size.  Too bad they didn’t share the same tastes. Regardless, the tattered, high waisted cut-off shorts, baggy Rolling Stones crop top, and black fold-over combat boots all fit Violet perfectly.  From the selection of clothes, Violet guessed Barbara’s daughter wasn’t a day over fifteen, maybe sixteen, years old—and probably fast.

She also retrieved a small blue duffle bag from inside the closet, hoping Barbara wouldn’t mind her taking that, as well.  She shoved it full of she and Remy’s wet clothes as well as the gun, a map she’d found in the foyer, and a couple bottles of meds she’d managed to swipe from Barbara’s stash.

With a sigh, she made her way to the edge of the bed and sat down, fingering on the old radio on the wooden bedside table.  The old machine sputtered to life, snow and noise intermixing with the random DJ voices with every twist of her finger.  There didn’t seem to be any music channels in Suede Falls, just talk radio shows which, judging from all the
blacks, gays and Obama’s
she’d gleamed from her short time scanning, were majority Republican. As soon as she heard a discernable voice that wasn’t full of hatred, she stopped cold, surprised by the sound of her own name.  Two radio DJ’s were discussing, or rather, talking over each other, about the incident in the courthouse.  The first DJ’s voice was loud and shrill, almost unbearably so.

“So Violet Chambers is a news anchor from a small station in Redding, CA, who was flown—literally flown--from the courthouse—“

“Against her will.”

Violet was jolted at the sound of the other DJ jumping in.  He had a more pleasant, much deeper voice.  The first DJ was not to be one-upped, however, and was shrilly breaking in to say his piece once more.


At gunpoint she was taken. With a convicted murderer! A convicted murder and—I guess, now kidnapper--Remington Jacob Archibald.  They were last seen in the only police helicopter in all of Redding.  Apparently they stayed under the radar, because authorities in Redding have been completely unable to track them.”

“I’m sure Redding’s tracking devices aren’t exactly state of the art.”

“And by ‘not exactly state of the art’, he means complete pieces of—well, I can’t say that word on the air.”

Violet chortled.  Somewhere in the midst of all the gays and blacks, she’d found a cool couple of DJs.

“And Archibald is a former Captain, too, so--”

“I’m sure he knows his way around all those pesky little annoyances--”

“Like GPS--”

“And radar screens--”

“I think it’s high time for the FBI to step in.”

“Redding’s police force definitely dropped the ball on this one. They have no idea where these two are.”

“Wow.”

“They have no idea… where this innocent young girl is. And he’s a pilot! They could be in Mexico by now for all we know.”

“Terrible.”

“Awful.”

“Just terrible.  If you can hear us, God be with you, Chambers, you’re in our prayers.”

Violet switched the radio off, unable to hear anymore.  It was too alarming a reminder of what an idiot she was being.

With a sigh, she made her way back into the living room.  Barbara was gone, and Remy had fallen asleep on the couch.  Or perhaps he’d passed out on the couch.  Violet smiled.  Good.  He needed rest.  Barbara had done a nice job with his hair, keeping it short on the sides with a few inches of hair left on top, putting his gorgeous face on full display.  Even as he glowered in his sleep, his striking face could not be denied.

BOOK: Dead or Alive
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