Some Protection Would Be Nice

Part Two, Chapter 3

For the next several days, Junior and I were like two brussels-sprouts on a stalk as our romance blossomed. We didn't have any more sex during that time, but we remained close, doing just about everything together and rarely leaving each other's sight. I'll be honest, I was not looking forward to spending a whole summer at a random stranger's house, away from all my loved-ones as my friend-turned enemy busied herself hunting me down and trying to kill me. But being able to spend those three months in a luxurious mansion with the nicest and handsomest guy I'd ever met made the experience exponentially better. I guess God really did have my back after all.

Nearing the end of the summer, I woke up with a hearty stretch as I yawned, smacking my lips a few times and tasting the putridness of my own breath. The sun had gotten up well before I had, and nearly blinded me through the large window of the guest bedroom I'd chosen. After getting out of bed and making it up, I shuffled to the dresser and pulled on some clothing over the undergarments I'd slept in the previous night. I settled on mid-rise, capri-length leggings that matched my eyes, alongside a tight Aeropostale T-shirt that stretched very thin over my upper body; just long enough to be pulled all the way down, but just short enough to where I couldn't move without showing skin. The outfit on the whole gave me a bit of a muffin-top, but I didn't care. Though I was rather persnickety about most things, my looks oddly weren't one of them. Plus, I thought having a slight gut looked kind of cute.

After donning my crucifix necklace and tying my bandana onto my golden-blonde hair, I slipped on some white flats, grabbing a matching handbag and heading out the door. Even though I had an unexpired driver's license, I didn't want to take any risk that would come from borrowing Junior's car. Plus, the thought of even touching that Firebird sent shivers down my spine because of how expensive it looked. I proceeded to stroll into town for the farmer's market that usually opened every Saturday, hopefully to find some more of that sour apple cider and/or blood orangeade - both of which Junior had introduced me to the weekend before and I'd subsequently gotten hooked onto.

However, I noticed something curious by the time I got to the town square. A small group of greasers in sunglasses, leather jackets and ties were engaged in a conversation off to the side, all of them speaking in thick Queens accents. I immediately recognized them based on their getup; they were none other than a handful of Maria's goons, and now they were stalking me in the place where they supposedly would've never looked. Without a word, I crouched down behind the food stand closest to their location and listened in.

"Alright, so we've spent months searchin' all over the country, and yet we've found zilch," one guy said.

"Not to mention all that time we wasted lookin' around this state," another guy grumbled. "Remind me again, why was we searchin' the wilderness fer dis' wench?"

"It was you're idea, ya' nutjob," a third guy elbowed him.

"Alright, cut the crap, punks," a fourth guy butt in. "Now that we's in here, we might as well start searchin'."

"Good plan, boss," the first guy nodded. "After all, this is a small town we's talkin' about here. How hard could it be to find one chick?"

At that point, I'd heard enough. Picking up some speed, I hurried out of the farmer's market, slipping through whatever gaps in the crowd I could find and constantly ducking behind stands until I made my way back to the mansion. I couldn't stop looking around until I'd gotten back inside and locked the front door behind me. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I walked into the living room, where I discovered that Junior had gotten up in my absence.

He busied himself leaning back on the couch, engrossed in the daily newspaper that had a headline pertaining to $90,000,000 being stolen from Seymour Bank up in Philadelphia. At the same time, an old sitcom I couldn't really recognize at the moment was airing on the TV. A plate was on Junior's lap, containing an egg-white omelet bulked out with Italian sausage, buffalo mozzarella, roasted red peppers and arugula, alongside some shredded hash browns sprinkled with goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes. He just sat there and ate, failing to notice me walking in.

"Junior? We've got a problem," I said, making him look back at me.

"Oh, hey Rose. Didn't see you get up," he replied, before looking back at the screen and eating some more.

With a huff, I made my way around the side of the couch and sat down next to him. He watched me as I did so. I could feel the cross on my neck jumping in and out of my cleavage, and I could tell that Junior was noticing it too, judging by the mesmerized look in his eyes.

"Junior, I'm serious," I insisted. "I was at the farmer's market this morning, and-"

"Lemme guess. You wanted more of those beverages from last week?" Junior put on a smug grin.

"Yes, but while I was there, I saw some of Maria's goons hanging around," I explained. "I could've sworn those lawyers said this town was hidden."

"It is hidden, but you can only hide so much when a national celebrity lives here," Junior replied.

"Regardless, what should we do?" I asked, a bit more worriedly.

"Well since we seemingly have nowhere else to run or hide, I guess we have no choice but to confront them ourselves," Junior wiped his mouth after finishing his breakfast. "Maybe we can just go out together and if we see anything suspicious, we can try and take 'em by surprise."

"Huh. I suppose we have no other choice, now do we?" I said, following a sigh.

"Afraid not," Junior took on a more serious tone. "But don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way, and if we don't make it out alive, just know that I love you."

"From the bottom of your heart?" I smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

"From the bottom of my heart," he nodded firmly, making me transform my smirk into a full-on smile.