Freeing Tuesday (19 page)

I pick her up after tucking myself back into my pants and sit back where I was when all this started just as Jameson walks around the corner and sees us. He just smiles, grabs his guitar, tells us to enjoy the show and walks off.

I hear Jason’s voice raise over the sound of the crowd as they make their way off stage between sets.

“Good job, freezing princess!” he yells after Vanessa who immediately stops and glares at him.

She pulls her heel off her foot and chucks it at his head, hitting him dead center. “Fuck you asshole!”

Jason backs her against the wall and I can feel the anger roll off him from where I’m sitting.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with my cock if it came with an instruction book!”

Tuesday jumps from my lap and wobbles a bit before making her way to them. Grabbing a hold of Jason’s shirt she rips him away from Vanessa. I stand, grab the poor girl’s shoe from the floor and bring it to her so I can hear what Tuesday is saying.

“I’m pretty sure you were told to get your shit together earlier!” Tuesday screams at him. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you two but this is fucking bullshit! This is your fucking job. It’s not high school. We aren’t going to play this damn game.”

“She fucking froze!” Jason booms, making Vanessa visibly coil back into herself.

Tuesday’s hand connects with the back of his head. “It’s her first show! It was taken care of now wasn’t it! She fucking rocked the rest of her set so get your goddamn panties out of a twist and get the hell over it! And you,” she turns to Vanessa, “don’t throw shit. We aren’t five year olds having a hissy fit.”

“She’s close to it,” Jason murmurs. This time it’s my hand that hits the back of his head and he turns and glares at me.

“You’re only a few years older than her so I’d shut the hell up and listen to Tuesday.”

Tuesday smiles at me and continues scolding them like children. “Both of you need to grow up and work whatever the hell this is out. It’s only the first show together so you better figure your shit out quickly.”

After they both nod and go their separate ways Tuesday folds herself into my arms and kisses me. “You weren’t lying when you said I wouldn’t be able to walk right.”

I kiss the corner of her lips and smile, “I’ll always stick to my word when it comes to you.”

Tuesday

“No, Abby, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it tomorrow when I go into th-”

“Mallory Daniello?” I’m cut off mid- sentence and drop the bale of hay I’m moving on my foot when someone calls my old name behind me. Every fiber in my body screams for me to run but I know that if I run I will look guilty. So instead, I take a deep breath and turn around.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Mrs. Daniello, I’m Agent Frey and this is my partner Agent Strong. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” I stare into his green eyes while he speaks and try to keep my breathing even.

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know who you’re looking for. My name is Tuesday, not Mallory.”

He hands me a photo using the hand that isn’t ready to grab his gun. A photo of me when I was probably twenty standing next to my father. “Now, unless you have a twin or some crazy sort of doppelgänger, that girl in the photo is you.”

I hand it back to him and shake my head, “I’m sorry sir. Yes, she looks a lot like me, but that isn’t me.” I cross my arms across my chest and shrug.

“Tuesday,” Abby calls from inside the barn, “where the hell is that hay? If I had known you were going to slack, I wouldn’t have given everyone the day off.” She rounds the corner wiping her hands on her pants when she notices the two men standing in the driveway. “What’s going on?” she asks, eyeing the agents.

“We’re just asking a few questions.”

“About?” She turns and looks at me, “Tuesday, what’s going on?

“These guys have me mistaken for someone else and don’t believe me.”

“Ma’am, if you aren’t going to help us by talking to us here we can continue this at the station.”

Shit… If they run my fingerprints I’m fucked. I can deny and lie all damn day but the second they run my prints none of that will matter.

“Am I under arrest?” I ask with my eyebrow raised.

The asshole has the nerve to smirk at me, “Not yet.”

“Then, please take your hand off your gun and leave your handcuffs alone. We can take this to your office.” I turn to Abby, “Go call the guys in and hang out with Izzy. I’ll be back.” She looks at me like I’m crazy but does what I ask while I climb into the back of the car.

                              
***

My forehead drops into my hands as I try to rub away my newly acquired migraine. “For the hundredth time, I am not Mallory Daniello.”

We have been going back and forth for the past three hours when Agent Frey smacks a file against the table and glares at me. The photos from inside the folder scatter in front of me; I gag when I see them, covering my mouth with my hand and turn my head away. Every nightmare I have ever had is sitting in front of me.

Bullets through the head. Buildings in ruin. Trunks full of drugs and buildings full of messed up women. Some of them were mine, well, except the women. Some of them must have happened since I ran because I don’t remember them.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like your handy work?

I push all the papers together and flip them over. I can’t handle looking at them. “Please. Please put that away.”

“We need your help, Mallory,” he says, his voice softening a bit.

“What?” I snap, finally giving up trying to hide who I am. I deserve to be in jail for what I’ve done and I know it.

“As of right now, you being here isn’t on the books. We both know that if it was, you wouldn’t be here. We would have found you with a bullet in your head.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He sighs, “If we found you, what makes you think your husband isn’t far behind us?”

I can feel the color drain out of my face as he talks. He knows he has me and I know I’m screwed either way. I can keep denying it but it isn’t helping anything.

“You know I’m right. You can only run for so long.”

He is right. I don’t want to tell him that, but he is, and I am so fucking tired of running, tired of fighting my own shadow. I’m not even living, I’m barely alive. I cross my arms over my chest and I lean back in the chair. “I’ll only help if I have immunity.”

“I’ll see if I can work something out,” he says as he types a message into his phone.

“I don’t talk until I have those papers. But, I do have a question.” He raises his head from his phone and motions for me to continue. “Why do you need my help? I’ve been gone for a long time. I’m not even sure how much help I’ll be.”

“We heard you ran because he was getting ready to sell you. Is that right?” I don’t answer but I do turn my head away. He must take it as confirmation because he continues talking. “We want your help taking him down.”

I laugh in his face, smacking my hand against the table. “Are you stupid? I mean seriously… You guys are fucking crazy.”

“Witness Protection,” he offers with a shrug but I shake my head.

“I’ve spent over five years protecting myself. I hide enough as it is. I don’t need people telling me I have to.”

“Well, we have something that might change your mind.”

Evan

I storm through the doors and take the stairs two at a time before busting through a door at the top and setting my sights on the poor receptionist who looks at me like she can feel my wrath from all the way over here. I take a deep breath and try to calm down before I walk up to her.

“Can I…Can I help you?” she asks timidly.

“I’m looking for the Agent who is holding Tuesday Weston,” the words are practically a growl when the escape my throat and she flinches back.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Tuesday Wes…” When I remember Tuesday isn’t her real name I pound my fist on the desk in frustration. “Mallory fucking Dan-!”

A man rounds the corner and his hand comes down hard on my shoulder, cutting me off. He’s probably in his forties, his stomach folds over his belt and he’s starting to go bald on top of his head. I have a nice clear view of that damn shiny spot because I tower over the fucker as he squeezes my shoulder.

He pulls me away from the desk and hauls me towards a corner. “Keep your mouth shut, boy. Nobody is supposed to know she is here.”

“Where is she?” I bite out.

I’m tired of being left in the dark when it comes to her. When I got to her apartment and she wasn’t there but her car was I started to panic. Abby flew out the door of the house and ran straight to me and not Jameson. Avoiding Jameson is something that just doesn’t happens. She flipped out, rambling on and on about some FBI suits picking her up and calling her by some other name. She asked me what I knew but I didn’t even answer her as I hauled ass toward my truck and booked it over here.

“How do you know Mallory?” he murmurs.

“
Tuesday
,” I make sure to call her Tuesday because that’s who she is. She left Mallory behind a long time ago. “Is my… girlfriend.” The word feels strange coming out of my mouth but knowing it’s about her makes me smile just a bit.

He snickers, “You obviously don’t know much about her or you wouldn’t be with her.”

Snapping, I let my anger get the best of me. I slam him up against the wall and pin him there with my arm across his neck.

“I know more about that girl than
anyone
. Obviously you don’t know much if you’re going to judge her based on her goddamn past!” His eyes widen and he coughs, trying to breathe around the pressure on his neck.

I hear more footsteps behind me and I brace myself to be hauled off of him. It doesn’t happen though. Instead his hand comes up to stop them and he squeaks out he is fine. I back up and drop my arms to my side and apologize.

He rubs his hand across his throat, shaking his head like he can’t believe I just got the upper hand on him even though I have a good foot on him.

“They’re finishing up right now. Go have a seat; she’ll see you when she comes out.”

I try to sit in the tiny plastic chair but I swear if I put all my weight on it, it will break the second I do. So I stand, pacing back and forth through the narrow hall until I hear the door swing open and my eyes collide with hers. All I can see is sadness.

She hesitates slightly when she sees me, trying to figure out a way around me. To escape me, except I take up the majority of the width of the hall so when she tries to slide by me, I grab her by the elbow.

Her eyes cast down toward the floor. This isn’t my Tuesday. This girl in front of me is broken. The look on her face and her body language make her seem
submissive
and that isn’t the girl I’ve gotten to know.

“What happened?” She doesn’t speak. Her eyes never leave the dirty brown carpet under our feet so I use my hand and tip her face up. “Look at me,” I command and her eyes snap to mine with a look of helplessness. “What happened?”

“They found me,” her lip trembles as she speaks. As soon as the words are out she rips away from my grasp and runs down the stairs.

I race after her but by the time I hit the front doors she’s gone so I start walking toward my truck, hoping she headed there when I finally see her. She’s sunk down in the edge of the alley with her arms wrapped around her knees and her face buried. Just the sight of her kills me.

I lift her up into my arms and she wraps herself around me, chest heaving as she sniffles into the front of my shirt. “I’ve got you, baby. It’s going to be alright.” She mumbles something into my shirt when I put her into the truck and her head settles onto my lap.

“What?” I ask as I run my fingers through her hair. She reaches up and hits the power to the radio.

“Sing to me, I don’t want to think about it.” She wipes the tears away from her eyes and laces her fingers through mine as I drive.

I fiddle with the CD player until I find the song I’m looking for and begin singing
Fool with Dreams
by Framing Hanley.