Destination 1974

Chapter 22

|There's no way out |

~***~

F***ing mother of god, why did that happen?   

"Mona?" Clyde whispers to me as I inwardly curse myself. I open my eyes in surprise to hear his voice, and I look up at him with a relieved gaze. I punch him in the arm, and he rubs it with squinted eyes. "Ouch..." he mutters sarcastically.

"You asshole. You scared me half to death," I whisper in a sharp tone with an invading smile. "How the hell did you get out?" I ask as he peeks out the door. Clyde looks down at me rather distracted and hums with a vacant stare.

I roll my eyes at him, "I said: how did you get out?"

"Oh, uhh..." he trails off as he leans on the door frame again, averting his gaze to the hallway leading to the foyer. I squint at him questionably, but I'm soon interrupted by Clyde yanking my arm and running through the hallway. We run away from the foyer, and I glance over my shoulder, hoping nobody sees us.

"Hey, you!" we come to a halt and look over to the man hollering at us. He approaches out of the back exit of the hotel restaurant with his arms crossed over his chest. Holy s***, it's Rugged Ralph.

"Sh!t," I mutter under my breath as Clyde and I stare at Ralph with strained features. Ralph releases his arms and looks over at the FBI agents in the foyer before scanning us again.

"So, you two are in some serious s***, aren't ya?" he grumbles with an accomplished grin.

"What makes you say that?" Clyde asks slowly with a humorously high lifted eyebrow. Ralph just flickers his dark eyes to the foyer and back to us again, seemingly lost in thought.

Ralph leans into the hallway to look where we're running and then simply says, "they're blocking that exit, ya know."

My arms hang numbly by my sides as I exchange a look with Clyde before staring at Ralph again. "Uhh, what?"

"You won't be noticed if you leave with a crowd," he nods his head into the hotel bar behind him, and we notice his gang in there drinking beers. I furrow my eyes at Ralph, and Clyde mirrors my expression while putting his hands in his pockets. Clyde suddenly clears his throat and nods towards Ralph while his eyes are widely looking into mine. I straighten my posture and stride into the bar. I sit on a stool beside one of the bikers, and they glance over at me. They look at Ralph when they recognize me, but Ralph nods to them, and they just turn back to their conversation, pretending me and Clyde were supposed to be there.

Ralph nudges me, and I follow him and Clyde to a nearby booth. In the booth behind us are a few of the other bikers, so we seemingly blend right in with the rugged crowd. We sit in silence as Ralph orders two beers and a strawberry lemonade for me. I drum my fingers on the wooden table glazed in wax coating, staring down Ralph. His hair is short and is dark brown. It isn't slicked back as usual, and it looks kinda fluffy this way. He has a rough stubble on his cheeks, and his eyes seem to have a hint of green when the light hits them a certain way. He has a familiarity to him, but I can't put my finger on it. For some reason I feel safe with this man, even though he tried to kill us a little over a week ago.

"What're you doing?" Clyde breaks the ice after having a staring contest with Ralph. Neither of them have touched their beers yet. Ralph lifts his beer to his lips, and it causes his shirt to lower ever so slightly. I kick Clyde's foot when I notice the tattoo on Ralph's chest is a serpent.

"Nice tattoo there," I say after Clyde stares at me for a moment too long at my not-so-secret motion of kicking his foot. "Is that a serpent?" I over pronounce my words, hoping Clyde will notice. Luckily, since Clyde is quite alert, he notices Ralph's tattoo and suddenly becomes tense beside me.