Run To You

didn’t have much of a plan B. Believe me, I was relieved when I rolled up and saw you running out of your building like crocodiles were chomping at your tail.”
    “You looked calm.”
    “I was calm. Calm and relieved that I didn’t have to drag you from the building.”
    She sniffed and wiped beneath her eyes. “How do you stay so calm?” She’d like to be chill all the time. Like Beau. Not have a racing heart or panic attacks.
    “Complete faith in my skills and abilities. Focus under fire. Lots of practice.”
    She didn’t have skills and abilities like Beau. “I can carry a tune and make an excellent martini. I’m calm when I’m on stage singing or tending bar.” She shook her head and looked at Beau out of the corners of her eyes. “But those skills and abilities don’t come in handy when I’m running from mobsters.”
    “Just breathe,” he advised as if it was easy. “Slow, steady breaths.” He stood and cast a shadow over her. “Everything will work out.”
    “Easy for you to say.” She walked beside him toward the Escalade. “You can go home.”
    “Sometimes home isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
    Was he talking about his home or hers? “My apartment is small, but I like it.”
    “You can’t do anything about your apartment today. Get your head in order and occupy your mind with something else. Something on deck.” He opened the door for her.
    She tossed her backpack on the floor and climbed inside. On deck? “Like?”
    “Your sister,” he suggested, and shut the door. “Think about your happy reunion with her.”
    Happy reunion? She’d been trying not to think of Sadie. Now Mr. Helper put her sister front and center in her brain. Which was just annoying. To add insult to injury, Mr. Helper plugged his Bluetooth into his ear and made business calls for the next few hours, leaving her to her own thoughts. Thoughts like she wished she had more time to prepare to meet her sister. More time to get mentally ready. More time to get her act together. Maybe get her hair cut and have a cute pedicure.
    She reached into her backpack on the floor by her feet and dug around for her cell. While she liked her life, she was aware that on paper she might look like a loser. A slacker. If she had more time, she might sign up for some college classes. Not just photography and pottery classes like last time, but something smart like sociology or psychology. She was already a bartender. It couldn’t be that different. She listened to people’s problems all the time, and she might be biased, but she thought she gave pretty good advice.
    To keep her mind off meeting her sister and looking like a loser, she pulled out her phone and sent a few text messages to friends. She lied and told them she’d had a family emergency and would be out of town. She should probably call her mom and tell her about Ricky, but her mother would just want her to go to Las Cruces and stay with her. She should definitely tell her mom that she was on her way to meet Sadie, but her mom would read too much into it. Want to know all the details, and Stella didn’t know any details. She’d call her mom when she actually knew something.
    She put in her ear buds instead and played Zuma’s Revenge on her iPad. Just north of Gainesville, she forgot she wasn’t alone and sang along to “Pumped Up Kicks.” She belted out the chorus and really got into the line about running faster than a bullet.
    Her ear bud popped out and she grabbed it, only to realize Beau had pulled it from her ear.
    “No,” he spoke into his Bluetooth, his mouth turned downward at the corners as his steely gaze as he stared into hers. “I’m not a fan of Foster the People, and unfortunately that isn’t the radio.” He turned his gaze back to the endless highway. “Yeah, just pick out a unit with security cameras.”
    In Tallahassee, they stopped at a Subway just long enough to use the bathroom and order lunch. Stella ordered a six-inch chicken breast with American cheese while Beau ordered an enormous foot-long with tons of meat and every available veggie. Even jalapeños. Who did that? Health nuts, that’s who. Men who took care of themselves and had muscles like Superman.
    After scarfing lunch, they climbed back onto the SUV and Beau took command of the music and dialed in a heavy metal radio station. Normally, Stella liked all kinds of music. Her tastes were very eclectic, but she could not stand most heavy metal. Slipknot put her into a