Oops

Chapter 10

                                                                                   Rocky

                The adrenaline rush was starting to wear off as I drove around LA. I recognized where we were, now that I was out and about; the southern-most part of Los Angeles, the place we were never allowed to go when we came here to record or visit or perform. I always thought Dad’s reasons were purely stereotypical, but after last night—was it this morning?—I was more afraid of LA than I’ve been of any other place in my life.

                Maya was still asleep. I had to remind myself that she was sleeping, not unconscious, because the thought of a slack, limp Maya who may never wake up was almost scarier than rampaging, kick-ass Maya. She’d been out since I caught her before she could face-plant on the pavement. Now the sun was starting to inch towards noon and I knew if I drove anymore around these parts someone was bound to recognize me. The shades I found in the compartment and the blue baseball cap were good, but not cutting it. I could be spotted at any time, and that was the last thing I needed.

                As I pulled into a small, fifteen minute waiting parking lot, I wondered hard about that. I was kidnapped. Kidnapped, as in, go-to-prison-for-the-rest-of-their-lives sort of kidnapped. Plus, I was a celebrity, and we got noticed a lot more than regular people did. And when Maya was kicking gang-tail, she let me go.

                She let me go.

                To protect me, I assumed. So her father’s gang wouldn’t get me. But it was like she didn’t even think twice about it, pushing me out the door like I wasn’t her only bargaining chip, but her brother, her friend, her—

                Nope. I wasn’t going to go there, not with her. It didn’t matter that she’d trusted me in that split second, in that moment when I’d had no idea what was going on. Because, with everything else going down, she protected me. Not like a prize. Like a friend.

                And I’d done the same. Or, I would’ve, if I hadn’t been getting my ass kicked. But I came back. I came for her; a little late, granted. But I could’ve run. I should’ve run. I’d be safe with my family, no doubt, and I would never have to see Maya or Nani again.

                Except…

                Except the fact that despite how well she was doing on her own, I felt compelled to help her. And she might’ve kidnapped me and held me for ransom and shot some kid and threatened to do the same to me, but ever since I learned why she abducted me, to save her brother from her father, I felt like help was what she needed, and so what if I was helping a criminal get away with the crime of the decade?

                Maya started to stir, finally. I looked over at her, lying in the passenger seat of the van, afraid to touch her but feeling stupid about doing nothing. I reached over and unbuckled her seat belt for her, and her hand, lightning fast, clamped around my wrist before I could even depress the button. I froze as she blinked awake, glaring through the sun at me from under her thick eyelashes. Huh—she didn’t wear make-up. I wondered why I’d never noticed before.

                She blinked as she realized it was me and quickly released my wrist. As the belt came undone she grabbed her head.

                “Ohhh, God,” she groaned. “I haven’t been hit like that since—” With a strangled gasp she bolted straight up in the seat, eyes wide. “Nani!”