Page 2 of Reckless

A strong breeze rattled the window, and icy air crept through the windowsill. Jazz pulled the blanket tighter over her body and continued her vigil. She tried to will her eyes to see Brody’s tall, athletic frame amble down the street, just as she’d seen it so many times before. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that wasn’t going to happen this time.

Where could he have gone? The grocery store he usually went to was only three blocks away. With their limited funds, it rarely took him longer than half an hour to purchase their food and come home. So making herself believe that something awful hadn’t befallen him just wasn’t going to happen.

Wiping the tears streaming from her eyes, she knew she had no choice but to face the facts. Something terrible had happened, and her brother wasn’t coming back.

Covered from top to toe in black, Jazz opened the apartment door and stuck her head out. She rarely walked outside this door. She knew Brody only wanted to protect her, but the fear of stepping outside sent nervous sweat rolling down her back. Everything looked so dark and forbidding. She had waited until the strip joint had closed down and the streets outside were mostly empty. As small as she was and in dark clothing, she hoped to be able to sneak out without being seen at all.

Not going out was no longer an option. She had finished the last of the bread this morning. There were maybe a couple ounces of milk left, a half sleeve of saltines, and a dented can of tuna. That was enough to get her through another day, but after that, there would be nothing left. Brody had taken most of their money with him, but she had found a twenty-dollar bill he’d given her for her birthday last year. Since she never went out, there had been nothing to use it on. Now it was all she had.

She put one foot outside the door and then peered over her shoulder one last time at the note she’d left for Brody on the counter. If he came home and found her gone, he would be terrified. She knew he’d come looking for her, so she’d explained in detail the route she would take to the small twenty-four-hour market four blocks over. Her hope was to get there and back within half an hour. That might be pushing it, but she figured if she ran all the way there and walked quickly back, she could do it.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and stepped into the dim hallway. Her eyes focused on the door that led outside, Jazz ground her teeth as she forced her trembling legs to move. The instant she touched the doorknob, a sense of dread filled her. What if Brody returned and didn’t see the note? Had she put it in a place he would immediately see? Should she wait until tomorrow to go out? She had crackers and tuna. She didn’t absolutely need anything. Maybe if she waited another day…

No. She had to go. Even though Brody had told her to never leave, his absence gave her no choice. This was her best chance to get what she needed without anyone seeing her. He would understand.

She opened the door and gasped as icy-cold air stole her breath. It was always cold in the apartment, but compared with outside, the temperature inside was downright balmy. The sweatshirt and light jacket, along with the baseball cap, weren’t going to keep this coldness at bay, but she had come this far. She refused to stop now.

Taking the outside stairway, she zipped down to the side yard and sprinted toward the sidewalk. If she kept to the shadows, she should be able to zoom straight to the market without a soul seeing her.

It had been almost two years since she’d been outside the apartment. Remembering where the market was located might have been a problem if not for her special gift. Brody had told her she was never to tell anyone about it, because someone might try to use it against her. She didn’t understand what he’d meant by that, but when Brody told her something, she rarely argued with him. Telling anyone she had a photographic memory and never forgot anything would remain her secret. In this instance, she was grateful for the gift.

She ran down the empty sidewalk. When her ears picked up a strange sound, she stopped abruptly and melted into the darkness, waiting. When nothing happened and no other noise sounded, she took off again. By the time she made it to the market, she was sweating and panting. Staying indoors, with no regular exercise had turned her into a weak-kneed, out-of-shape pansy. She promised herself that when Brody came back, she would persuade him to let her at least run around the block at night to regain her strength.

The parking lot of the store was well lit, which made her uncomfortable. Being seen by anyone was almost as terrifying as leaving the apartment. It did, however, make her feel better that she could see if danger came her way.

She pushed the door open and breathed in a sigh. The warmth of the store, along with the fragrance of fresh produce, felt like coming home. If she’d had time and wasn’t terrified of being seen, she would have liked to walk up and down each aisle and enjoy this rare experience. Since that couldn’t happen, she quickly grabbed a small basket by the door and sped through the store. Five minutes later, the basket was filled with a carton of milk, a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, a half-dozen eggs, two cans of soup, and a jar of multivitamins.

Carefully calculating the items in her head, she anticipated a bill of just over sixteen dollars. It was much more than she wanted to spend, but if she was careful, the food could last her at least a couple of weeks, if not more.

The sleepy-looking, young cashier didn’t seem the least bit curious about her, which was a relief. Even though she was almost fifteen years old, she had a delicate frame that had yet to produce even the slightest of feminine curves. She often lamented the lack of a figure, but sometimes, like now, it came in handy.

Should she ask him if he’d seen anyone around that looked like Brody? With his large build and distinctive green eyes, her brother would be memorable to most people. When the clerk glanced up at her with a cold sneer, she quickly changed her mind. He didn’t look as though he would lift a finger to help anyone. Besides, the last thing she needed was to call attention to herself.

Stacking the items on the counter, she felt her heart pound as her items were scanned. When the bill came to just over twenty-one dollars, her eyes bugged out. How had she miscalculated?

She gnawed her lip, knowing she had to put some items back. With reluctance, her face most likely the color of the tomato soup she’d picked up, she said gruffly, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want the soup or vitamins.”

With an irritated glare, the cashier grabbed the items she had rejected, rescanned them, and snarled the new amount. “Seventeen oh two.”

Totally intimidated by the scowl and humiliated to boot, Jazz shoved the twenty across the counter. When he just continued to scowl at her, she said softly, “What’s wrong?”

“You ain’t got two pennies?”

“No.”

“Whatever.” He opened the cash register and counted out the change. Practically throwing the money on the counter, he sat on a wooden stool and started reading his phone.

“Um… Can I have a bag?”

As if he didn’t hear her, he didn’t bother to raise his head.

Fighting tears, Jazz pocketed the change and then grabbed her grocery items. If she’d had larger pockets in her jacket, she wouldn’t have as much of a problem, but she had no choice but to try to carry all the items in her arms. She was halfway to the door when a voice inside her head that sounded just like Brody’s stopped her. Hey, Little Mighty, just what the hell are you doing? Tell that jerk to get you a sack, or you’re going to kick his ass.

Remembering the nickname Brody had given her caused a grin to tug at her mouth. Having no human interaction other than with her brother for two years had made her timid and afraid of everything. Once, those words—timid and afraid—had not even been in her vocabulary. The very fact that this jerk had made her feel less than human reignited the spitfire she’d once been.

Turning back, she stalked back to the counter and snapped, “Hey, dirtwad, give me a bag.”

The kid’s head jerked up, and he glared at her. “What did you say?”