Read Online 36 Hours by Allison Brennan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Allison Brennan
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didn’t, she’d scream and pull freshly dyed hair out.
She sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub and shook her head. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“We’ll fix this, but we have to go. They might find us here, since Lucky and I were in the Marine’s together. I’m sorry,” he said.
She stopped laughing. “You didn’t ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“If I was a Ranchitos.”
He stared at her, confused.
She continued. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I screwed up. If I hadn’t reached out to Tommy, we’d have been safe here.”
She stood up and gave him a hug. It felt weird and good at the same time. “You didn’t believe the accusations, even though you have no reason to trust me.”
“Angel, we need to be honest with each other. If we’re going to get through this alive, I need to trust you as much as you trust me.”
“For the record, I’m not in a gang. The closest I’ve come to the Ranchitos are the boys downstairs in my building. I used to hang with them when we were kids, until they were recruited. I don’t need that shit in my life. Look what it did for Marisa.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry.
“You don’t need to explain. But—maybe that’s where this ridiculous theory came from.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys downstairs could be known associates in your file. Or an informant exaggerated the connection.”
“We need to confront Kristina Larson.”
“Not when every cop in LA thinks you’re armed and dangerous. I have a plan. We’ll get your statement on tape and then we go from there.”
“And that’s why we’re seeing your girlfriend?”
Jake shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Chapter Eleven
Jake waited until dusk before he and Angel left on Lucky’s Harley and drove down I-5 until they reached Los Feliz, a hilly, affluent community in the heart of Los Angeles. Cutler owned property throughout the county from people who put up their houses for bonds, then bailed. Cutler sold some, kept others, and earned more money on rentals than he did from his bond cut. The small, Spanish style house set far back from the street was a good place to hide out.
While Jake checked the doors and windows, Angel walked through the house in awe. The high ceilings, original small-paned windows, and oak hardwood floors throughout were nice, but the kitchen was original linoleum and tile, much of it chipped, and when Jake plugged in the refrigerator it roared louder than the car he’d stolen that morning. He decided they didn’t need it for the time they’d be spending here.
“This is real nice,” she said, an odd lilt to her voice.
Jake realized Angel had never had a real home. She must have been living in that hovel most of her life. Jake’s family didn’t have much money growing up, and his parents were now both deceased, but he’d been raised in a home similar to this one, in Burbank. His parents had mortgaged the place to put Jake’s younger brother through college. Jake didn’t resent that his parents didn’t do the same for him, he hadn’t wanted to go to college, but now he wished he had his old house. A place where Angel could feel safe.
“We can stay here as long as we need to,” Jake said. “Cutler said there were some supplies in the garage—why don’t you check it out while I try Maddie again.”
Jake tossed her the keys and watched Angel walk out the back door to the garage in back. As long as there were no busybody neighbors who knew Cutler’s house was vacant, they’d be okay, Jake figured. Besides, he wasn’t being hunted: Angel was the one in danger.
He called Cutler. “Thanks for the house.”
“It’s temporary,” Cutler said.
Perhaps. But Jake realized that if he was going to be part of Angel’s life, she needed a safe and permanent home.
But that was later. He said, “Did Maddie call?”
“Yes, and I know it was my idea for you to bring her in, but I don’t know anymore.”
“What did she
She sat heavily on the edge of the bathtub and shook her head. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“We’ll fix this, but we have to go. They might find us here, since Lucky and I were in the Marine’s together. I’m sorry,” he said.
She stopped laughing. “You didn’t ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“If I was a Ranchitos.”
He stared at her, confused.
She continued. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I screwed up. If I hadn’t reached out to Tommy, we’d have been safe here.”
She stood up and gave him a hug. It felt weird and good at the same time. “You didn’t believe the accusations, even though you have no reason to trust me.”
“Angel, we need to be honest with each other. If we’re going to get through this alive, I need to trust you as much as you trust me.”
“For the record, I’m not in a gang. The closest I’ve come to the Ranchitos are the boys downstairs in my building. I used to hang with them when we were kids, until they were recruited. I don’t need that shit in my life. Look what it did for Marisa.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry.
“You don’t need to explain. But—maybe that’s where this ridiculous theory came from.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys downstairs could be known associates in your file. Or an informant exaggerated the connection.”
“We need to confront Kristina Larson.”
“Not when every cop in LA thinks you’re armed and dangerous. I have a plan. We’ll get your statement on tape and then we go from there.”
“And that’s why we’re seeing your girlfriend?”
Jake shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Chapter Eleven
Jake waited until dusk before he and Angel left on Lucky’s Harley and drove down I-5 until they reached Los Feliz, a hilly, affluent community in the heart of Los Angeles. Cutler owned property throughout the county from people who put up their houses for bonds, then bailed. Cutler sold some, kept others, and earned more money on rentals than he did from his bond cut. The small, Spanish style house set far back from the street was a good place to hide out.
While Jake checked the doors and windows, Angel walked through the house in awe. The high ceilings, original small-paned windows, and oak hardwood floors throughout were nice, but the kitchen was original linoleum and tile, much of it chipped, and when Jake plugged in the refrigerator it roared louder than the car he’d stolen that morning. He decided they didn’t need it for the time they’d be spending here.
“This is real nice,” she said, an odd lilt to her voice.
Jake realized Angel had never had a real home. She must have been living in that hovel most of her life. Jake’s family didn’t have much money growing up, and his parents were now both deceased, but he’d been raised in a home similar to this one, in Burbank. His parents had mortgaged the place to put Jake’s younger brother through college. Jake didn’t resent that his parents didn’t do the same for him, he hadn’t wanted to go to college, but now he wished he had his old house. A place where Angel could feel safe.
“We can stay here as long as we need to,” Jake said. “Cutler said there were some supplies in the garage—why don’t you check it out while I try Maddie again.”
Jake tossed her the keys and watched Angel walk out the back door to the garage in back. As long as there were no busybody neighbors who knew Cutler’s house was vacant, they’d be okay, Jake figured. Besides, he wasn’t being hunted: Angel was the one in danger.
He called Cutler. “Thanks for the house.”
“It’s temporary,” Cutler said.
Perhaps. But Jake realized that if he was going to be part of Angel’s life, she needed a safe and permanent home.
But that was later. He said, “Did Maddie call?”
“Yes, and I know it was my idea for you to bring her in, but I don’t know anymore.”
“What did she
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