We drive for the rest of the day and a little through the night, swapping the driver and passenger between us when we get too tired and arrive in Arizona with time to spare before LJ’s release.
We park the car in an inconspicuous spot and then hide behind a building across from where LJ will be dropped off. Both of us where big sunglasses to hide our faces as best we can and I keep my ball cap on with my hair loose and wavy.
“Are you happy?” asks Lincoln, randomly.
“What do you mean?”
He pauses and looks down at me (he’s a lot taller), “with Michael, are you happy?”
I avoid looking at his face which has a frown indented on it and look back at the road where a transporter van is just pulling up. “It’s LJ.” I announce and Lincoln looks around the brick wall to the road.
We watch him get out of the van and get handed a dollar bill and a sheet of paper by a man in a suit.
A car rolls up and stops in the middle of the road the two men inside watching LJ and the man in the suit grabs his arm, preventing him from walking away. We can see LJ’s face frown and look nervous.
I feel a pang of protectiveness over him.
LJ talks to the man for a moment and then walks swiftly away from him.
He’s still being watched though. They clearly think Lincoln is going to contact him – and I guess they’re correct considering we’re here for him.
Back at the car we open the trunk and look through all the compartments to see if we can find anything and flog it, so that we have a little money.
We find a hefty bag of fine golf clubs that are in almost impeccable condition and a pair of sunglasses but those aren’t worth anything so we just take the clubs to the nearest pawn shop that doesn’t look like they’ll ask questions.
“I’ll give you 80 bucks for them.” The man behind the till says after inspecting them.
“Come on, man, they’re worth–“
“Worth a lot more to the person they actually belong to.” The man ends the sentence, “these are ladies clubs, doctor.”
“Yeah, obviously they’re mine, doctor.” I reply sarcastically.
“Eighty bucks.” The man repeats.
“Throw in the cooler and you got a deal.” says Lincoln, spotting a red cooling box on a nearby shelf and the man nods, putting the clubs behind the counter and getting eighty dollars out of the till and handing it to me while Linc gets the cooler down.
Next, we go to a convenience store and buy a bag of ice which Lincoln puts into the cooler and then into the car before we continue to follow LJ.
We haven’t had a clean approach to him or to even get him a message so that he knows we’re here because he’s staying in public places and the Feds are continuously watching him from their car.
Right now he’s sat down at a bus stop bench and a man is pacing around in front of him most likely also waiting for the bus.
The pacer asks him something and and sits down next to LJ, continuing to talk. Eventually LJ stands up and begins to walk away but the pacer has a big mouth and starting to cause a scene, before punching LJ hard in the face, throwing him up against the wall.
A surge of anger rushes through my body and I stand up from where we’re hiding and begin to walk forwards but Lincoln grabs my arm and drags me back, “get off!” I demand, shocked that he’s so relaxed about his son getting beat up.
“I paid the guy to do it.” He says.
“What?!” I raise my voice a little and then look around scared that someone heard me, before lowering my voice to speak again, “the guy is hurting him.”
“Yeah but it’ll get him to Med and then we can get to him.” Linc explains, “I’ll apologise later, but right now it doesn’t matter.”
Soon the cops arrive and split up the fight, getting statements from witnesses and then they take both of the boys to the E.D.
I head inside, keeping my head low and staying in the quiet halls just so that I can find out what room he’s being kept in. Once I find out, I call Linc and he positions the car as close as he can to the window of the room and then comes inside to meet me.
Once we’re sure that LJ is alone and not being watched we make our move, entering his room and closing the door behind us.
LJ jumps, scared, when he hears the door click but breaths out in delight and relief when he sees his dad.
“How you feeling, slugger?”
“Dad?” He smiles widely and hugs him for the first time in years, taking in everything about him. “Liv.” He hugs me next and I kiss his forehead lightly.
“Hey,” I breath, overjoyed to see him, safe and well.
“We gotta move.” Lincoln tells us and we carefully (but quickly) use the window as our escape, running to the car and speeding away as fast as we possibly can – without getting pulled over by the cops.
“You’re looking a lot better since I last saw you.” LJ says to me.
“Eh,” I shrug, “I’m okay.”
“Sober?”
I look at my lap ashamed that, that’s the first thing he thinks of when he sees me.
“She’s perfect,” Lincoln reaches over and rests a hand on my thigh, while his other remains on the steering wheel while he drives. I look at him and smile at his sweet comment before I glare at him with a look that says, ‘tell your son now’. “Uh, sorry about your face.”
“Huh?”
“I might have paid the guy to do that to you.” Lincoln explains but LJ just laughs.
“Let me get this straight. You paid that meth head to whup my ass?”
“Yeah. Feds were waiting for me to come get you, it was the only way. It worked, didn’t it?” Lincoln shrugs.
“Yeah, it got me four stitches.” LJ, continues to laugh.
“Liv wasn’t too happy about it.” Lincoln smiles sideways at me, “I think it adds character.”
“Here, take this.” I pull the cooler from the space by my feet and hand it to LJ in the back, “there’s some ice in there, put it on your eye, it’ll keep the swelling down.”
“I’ve missed Doctor Granges.” says LJ sarcastically, “the protective and educated pretend mom.”
I laugh a little, happy that he’s happy now.
“I’ve been in a few fights in my day too. Too many.” Linc says.
“I remember,” I reply, “I fixed you up after a lot of them.”
“Which was wrong of me,” says Lincoln apologetically, “you were too young.”
“Oh well, I must have done something right because you’re still with us.”
There’s a little silence for a bit while LJ and I look out the windows and admire the fields freely.
This is the least stressed I’ve felt in a long time, even though I know the running and the danger isn’t over.
“How you feeling?” Lincoln ask his son.
“Okay, I guess, just tired.”
Linc sighs before continuing, “I’m a target, kid. As long as you’re with me, so are you. Things will get a whole lot worse before they get better, do you understand?”
“But after we meet up with Uncle Mike and get to Panama…”
“Panama ain’t a sure thing. Your uncle’s plan is dangerous and I mean, really dangerous.” Lincoln replies.
“Listen,” I begin, “what your dads trying to say is that all the charges against you have been dropped. You’re free and clear to start a new life, a good life. Not be running and looking over your shoulder–“
“You want me to leave?” LJ looks at me and then at his dad.
“No.” We both say in unison.
“Good, because I’m not.” LJ looks back out the window, frowning.
“Another of the Fox River Nine was found and taken into custody…” I turn the radio up to listen. Who was captured. “He was reportedly shot, after being caught, because he was reaching for a Federal Agents gun. Do you have any thoughts on the death of David Apolskis?” The voice on the radio asks and an immediate lump forms in my throat.
Lincoln glances at me, and I look up at him. “Hey,” he reaches his free arm around my shoulders and puts his hand on my head, stroking my hair.
“It was unfortunate,” Mahone’s voice replies.
“He was so young,” I breath out.
“Don’t dwell on it babe.” Lincoln advises me, knowing that it’s going to start eating me up on the inside, triggering things that I don’t want triggered.
We soon find a café just off of the main road called ‘BUSY BEE CAFE’. It’s a red and white building with a large sign showing off the name and a huge bee the got a cooking spatula in its hands. If bees even have hands.
LJ’s gone inside to get a few things as he’s the only one that won’t be arrested if he’s recognised. He’s free.
What I’d do to be free, you’ll never know, or understand. It’s my deepest wish right now.
“What’s up?” Linc looks at me staring at the cafe door.
“Nothing,” I peel my eyes away and look at his face up close for what seems like the first time in forever. I keep avoiding his eye, because he can see right through me, he can see everything that I’m feeling.
“Like hell its nothing.” He rolls his eyes, “you know you can talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk.” I reply, still staring into his perfect eyes and taking in every detail of his face.
Every line that’s formed and all the colours that blend seamlessly in his pupil. Green and brown are the main ones but there’s a hint of blue and speccles of black. He’s analysing my face as well. My eyes, my nose and his eyes travel down to my lips.
I find myself wanting to close the gap between us but I can’t. I know I can’t. So I turn my head back in the direction of the cafe and see that LJ is on his way back.
He clambers into the back seat with drinks and a food bag in his arms before announcing, “we’re good.”
“No more stops until we get to New Mexico.” Lincoln says before a frantic knock on the car window sounds and LJ, winds down his window.
My heart starts to beat really fast, and I’m finding it a little hard to control my breathing. I’m scared. I’m terrified of being caught. Not for myself, but because of what they’ll do to Lincoln.
“You forgot your change.” The lady hands it over to LJ.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“You were in such a rush.” She smiles like a Cheshire cat.
“Thanks. Thank you.” LJ winds his window back up and the girl starts to walk away.
“Keep walking. Keep walking.” Lincoln says to himself, “Come on, keep walking.” But the lady looks back at us in the car, “damn it.”
She starts to run inside and Lincoln starts the car and drives away quickly.
“We don’t have to ditch the car we can keep driving.” LJ tries to say.
“We can’t, the waitress made me, Liv and the car. It’s useless.” Lincoln replies.
“I’m sorry, you know. Maybe we can find another car.”
“Cars aren’t exactly growing on trees out here. We’ve got 400 miles to go, and no way of getting there. If we don’t get to Michael in time, he’ll leave without us.”
“Uncle Mike wouldn’t do that.” LJ shakes his head.
“He doesn’t have a choice. It’s a one-shot deal out of the country.” Lincoln informs him.
“I said I was sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, hun. Look there was a sign for a train station, mayb–” I try to suggest.
“It ain’t that easy.”
“We follow the road, we won’t be seen.” LJ contributes.
“It ain’t that easy.” Repeats Lincoln.
“Hey, I’m not an idiot. I was on the run too, you know.” LJ reminds his father.
“Yeah, you were on the run, and you got caught.” Lincoln pulls over on the side of the road to continue his argument.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I’m not a pro at being a con like you, Dad. Maybe I should’ve just left when you gave me the out. Not like you care.” LJ snaps back at him and opens the car door but Lincoln reaches and grabs his arm.
“Take it easy.” Linc says, “I’m sorry, all right?” LJ pauses for a moment and then gets back in the car slamming the door. “I’m sorry, man, I’m just– let’s get out of here.” He says and starts driving again.
Eventually we get far enough away from that goddamn café and we pull over, getting out the car and abandoning it there so we can continue on foot.
“Come on now, get away from the road. You wanna get caught?” Lincoln says to LJ and he sighs but moves over nonetheless. “I saw you checking out those giris back at the diner.” He changes the subject.
“What?” LJ replies but he’s got a guilty grin on his face.
“Come on, fess up.”
“No, I was making sure they weren’t staring at us.”
“With what, their asses?” Lincoln laughs. “Beautiful giris in Panama, they love Americans.” A little jolt of something passes through me at that comment and I frown a little. What’s wrong with me?
“Cool.” LJ replies, a little unenthusiastically.
“So how long you known about giris?”
LJ laughs, “Long enough.”
“Since when?”
“Thirteen.” LJ confesses.
“Thirteen? With who?”
“Donna Anselmi.”
“She was the kid next door.” Lincoln looks at him, remembering the girl. “She was about–“
“Four years older than me?” LJ confirms and I look at him a little shocked.
“How come you never told me?” I ask him.
“You’re so protective, you’re like my mom.” He pauses for a moment realising what he’s said.
Lincoln speaks to clear the air, “your mom was paying her for French lessons.”
“Well, she earned the money.” LJ smiles and I laugh a little, playfully smacking his arm.
“Come on, away from the road. You’re still way too close. Let’s go.” Lincoln tells him but he’s saying it with a smile on his face. They’re good again.
Who new how a talk about girls could affect a man’s mood so much.
That’s really disgusting, thinking about it.
We walk to the nearest train station as it really is our last option and we keep our heads low, in hope that no one recognises us.
On the platform a crowd of people are swarmed around the ticket booth and we eye the area nervously.
“What are we gonna do?” LJ asks.
“Get a ticket on the train. Come on.” Lincoln leads us back to the little archway between the platform and the main street, “Just wait here until the train comes.”
One man is sat on a bench opposite us but other than that the archway is empty. He looks down at his newspaper and then back up at us and then back at the newspaper again before getting up and walking away.
“Linc…” I say, hesitantly.
“Let’s wait it out.” He replies and leans his arm on the brick wall.
“Yeah, I think that’s the guy right over there.” We can hear the man say and he points at us just before a police officer comes into view.
We turn the corner back onto the platform and then break into a run pushing past the groups of people. We cross the tracks onto the other side where there’s a road and continue to run there.
“Two Caucasian males and a female on foot, fleeing the Willcox station.” The officer says into his radio.
We make our way over a bridge with the officer on our heels and sirens piercing the air.
A car comes speeding through at the junction but LJ is ahead of us and it knocks him down, “LJ!” Linc and I exclaim running up to him, lead on the grassy ground.
“Hold it right there. Stop. Don’t move.” The officer shouts pointing his gun at our heads as more officers arrive.
“Please, please. He’s got nothing to do with this.” Lincoln begs.
“Face down! Both of you, face down!”
“Please.”
We lay on our fronts and I feel the cold handcuffs clasp shut around my wrists.
“LJ, I’m sorry.” Lincoln says.
“Suspect in custody. Possible ID, Lincoln Burrows and Olivia Granges.”
“I’m sorry, LJ, I’m sorry.”
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