Arlington, Texas, Bettie Page Clothing Emporium, 2019
It felt to Noah as if all eyes in the store were watching him. He was suddenly terribly aware of the security cameras that hovered overhead.
He knew it was only natural paranoia from the intense dread and panic throbbing through his veins. He knew he should get moving, implement the plan. But his mind had suddenly emptied itself; stark like a fresh sheet of paper.
I don't know what to do.
"Are you okay?" Sydney asked him while Alice looked on.
Her voice made him jump up from the chair and suddenly he was on the move, once more making his way through the store, only this time heading for the staff lockers.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…
Brent was on his lunch break, sitting at the small staff table.
"I hope you told your friendour policy on private phone calls!" he said through a mouthful of sandwich.
Noah didn't even hear him. He headed straight for his locker, fumbling at the padlock as he struggled to enter the combination with shaking fingers.
"What are you doing?" Brent asked, rising from his chair.
Noah flung open the locker door. It banged loudly as he snatched his backpack and hurried from the room.
Brent followed yelling, "Come back! It's not your lunch break!"
Noah cringed as Brent's outrage attracted the attention of nearby shoppers. He felt like the word fugitive was tattooed on his forehead. At any second, one of them would yell out, "Hey! Isn't that that guy who…"
He kept his head bowed low and raced for the elevators to the underground car park. He frantically pressed the call button. When the doors opened, he didn't bother to wait for the passengers inside to exit. He pushed them roughly aside, not caring about anything or anyone but their little family and staying together.
He ran for his truck, tossing his backpack over to the passenger side and jumping in. The tires screeched as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator and pulled out of the garage in a flat five minutes.
We'll have to tell Leo everything.
It was a terrifying thought going back to the life they'd lead before; living underground, scared of their own shadows, nervous every time a stranger looked at them aslant. They might live on the edge of town in less than ideal accommodations, but it was bliss compared to the running.
It was Damian Grimaldi, Luke's estranged biological father and head of a Maltase Mafia family, who originally taught them the art of disappearance.
…
Marshfield, Wisconsin, Dot's Diner, 2009
"What surname would you like to use?" Damian quickly asked in his smooth Italian accent; hands poised on the keys of his laptop as he sent instruction to his preferred forger.
Just beyond Damian's graying head, through the window of the dingy pancake house, was a billboard advertising the latest season of 24; Jack Bower stood prepared, hands lifted, gun drawn.
"Sutherland," Noah replied.
Luke frowned at him curiously but nodded. They didn't have time to argue the details.
"You must keep your first names," Damian continued without a flinch. "Your responses are more natural that way. But from this moment on, Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer don't exist."
Luke and Noah's eyes locked, both trying to impart comfort to the other.
"Do not try to leave the country," Damian warned. "Keep your head down and stay away from any situation where your identity can be checked. Take only low-paying jobs. Nothing flashy. Do you understand?"
They nodded; all their faith put into the one man Luke had spent a lifetime mistrusting.
"New destinations only. Anywhere you have been or lived before is out of the question. As are any people…" Damian gave Luke a deep all-knowing and forceful stare. "…and that includes me."
Luke returned Damian's gaze, pain clouding his brown orbs, throat clenching on each swallow.
"It's either that Luciano," Damian told him, purposely using Luke's birth name for emphasis. "...or you and Noah spend a lifetime apart."
Luke nodded.
"In prison!"
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Luke snapped.
Noah wanted to hold Luke so badly in that moment. He gripped Luke's hand hard under the table.
Later, alone in a worn-out hotel room, he did just that and more. It was the first time they made love. There was no question of whether they were ready; they needed each other. It was an affirmation of all they were.
Strewn at the foot of the worn bed were their new identities - faked birth certificates, driver's licenses, marriage certificate, job histories...
It was also the first time they really allowed themselves to cry, both of them, for all they'd lost.
Damian implicitly warned them to keep on the right side of the law; never deviate, never take risks. Leo was an accident, an uncanny coincidence as much their pleasure as their pain.
…
Tacoma, Washington, Sunnyside Trailer Park, 2010
Luke and Noah took a stroll down the main drive of the Sunnyside Trailer Park, passing the dilapidated trailers and, after only two days, already dreaming they were anywhere else.
The entire place smelled of booze and despair. Forgotten laundry flapped from makeshift clothes lines; overflowing garbage cans littered the yards where grass had long since given up trying to grow green.
Emaciated dogs and cats sniffed out food where they could find it, while kids ran wild, looking for windows to smash and cars to burgarlize.
They passed a woman in a tattered summer dress, bent over a toddler, bottle of vodka clear in one hand.
"There ya go, Babe!" she slurred. "You play nice now!"
They'd seen a lot of this during their time on the run; parenting that would make an onlooker's blood run cold.
They walked on by, paying little heed until she called out.
"No fucking way!" Her voice had that unmistakable slur from years of substance abuse. "Noah Mayer? As I live and breathe!"
Luke and Noah turned stifly, swallowing thickly at her use of "Mayer" and preparing to sprint if necessary.
Standing before them was an older decrepit version of Lucy May Gordon-Brown, the girl who took Noah's virginity.
Noah always used the word "took" because when ithappened, he never really stood a chance. She had her sights firmly set on him and hunted him down like a hungry pack animal. They never dated, but it wasn't from lack of her trying.
She had her choice of men. She was head cheerleader in their final year of school; sleek and beautiful, but set on having the good looking but ultra shy new boy. Most likely drawn and fascinated by his disinterest.
Noah did his best to ignore her. But when she finally did manage to corner him below the football stadium bleachers, he thought what the hell. He was sexually confused. This was his chance to prove to himself that he was the "man" his father wanted him to be. She even provided the condom.
It would rank as one of the worst experiences of his life, leaving him feeling lost and totally inadequate.
Two days after his encounter with Lucy May, Noah almost whooped when his father announced they'd be moving to Branson. It was one of the few times the transitory nature of his father's military career made him happy.
Lucy squinted at Noah, regarding him through his beard. She placed both hands on her swaying hips. "It is you!"
Noah vigorously shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you're mistaken."
She burst out laughing. "As if! For one, a girl never forgets her first, not never! And second… I have very good reason to remember…"
She hiccupped and wobbled before taking a swig from the bottle in her hand. As she stumbled closer, they could make out the clear tell-tale bruising of domestic abuse; another common aspect of trailer park life. Noah felt sad to see what had become of her.
"Lucy May!" a man's voice called from inside the nearest trailer and terror clouded her black-rimmed eyes. "Get your lazy butt back on inside, ya hear?"
"I'm comin!"
She didn't say goodbye; it was as though she'd forgotten them entirely. She simply turned and left Luke and Noah standing there with their mouths agape. The trailer door loudly slammed behind her and a screaming argument erupted from within.
Luke and Noah shared a look that communicated everything. Lucy May obviously paid little attention to news reports. But it wasn't a risk they could afford to take. They would have to leave and quickly.
Noah had already turned and taken two strides in the direction of their trailer, when Luke made a strangled sound that had Noah spinning on his heels.
Luke's expression displayed frightened realization; eyes round with shock. Noah followed his gaze to the small boy on the littered grass.
He looked to be around three years old; squatting with chubby legs next to a blue bucket of muddy water in which he industriously dipped a series of plastic cups and old milk cartons, quietly babbling to himself.
He wore nothing but a soiled diaper. His skin was caked in week-old grim; his thin baby hair set jet black against his forehead.
Yet, it wasn't until he looked up at them with inquisitive cerulean eyes that Noah began to hyperventilate.
So much for Lucy May's condom.
It was the most agonizing few days of their lives. They argued a lot too; more than ever before. But they had no time to deal with the swirl of emotions this event brought on; no time to think whatsoever.
They watched the baby for a few days, falling more and more in love with him and confirming what they already knew.
They couldn't stay but they couldn't leave him there either.
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