Page 62 of Brazen Criminals

“One that will make you laugh. And as a bonus, I’ll show you a secret, too.”

I’m going cross-eyed, sitting like this, but when I try to pull back, Jansen’s hand is right there, so I stay put. “Deal.”

He rubs his thumb along my jaw, pulling his head back so he can look at my lips, and I’m reminded again that I’m a terrible human who has crushes on all my roommates. And that I am totally not in a place where I can trust my judgment of other humans apparently, myself included.

“You first,” he whispers, still looking at my lips, and I lick them nervously. He sucks in a breath, so I lick them again, watching him squirm, loving it and hating it at the same time.

My fear of fucking shit up spikes, so I twist my head away, forcing myself to look out at the park instead of Jansen. His hand slides from my face, and he opens the windows while I figure out what to say.

I count my taps on my leg twice before I ball up my fist to stop. I don’t need to be nervous, not with Jansen.Just dive in, Clara. You’re safe here.“I realized I’ve been naïve. Bryce has been manipulating me, isolating me, doing all the standard things that abusers do, and I didn’t even notice. I’m just so mad at myself. I thought he was a good guy. Like, a really good guy. The kind of guy you marry and have tons of babies with. And now,” I shrug, “now I don’t know if I can trust my judgment, if I can trust myself. I don’t want to be that person anymore, but how do you become someone else? Aren’t we all just who we are? Does that mean I’m just screwed?”

Jansen turns and tucks one of his feet under him, facing me. “Do you want my opinion?”

“Do I?”

“My opinions are always groundbreaking,” he says, winking.

I laugh a little, more of a weird gasp than a laugh, but Jansen grins at me. Nodding him on, I pull a flyaway chunk of hair behind my ear.

“I think we all focus so much on getting things right the first time that we forget that we’re always supposed to be learning, to be changing. And I don’t mean learning dumb shit, like ‘Oh, did you know that Maine Coon cats can be up to forty-eight inches long?’ Not that kind of learning.” Jansen runs his hands through his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, unable to sit still for more than a moment. “We’re incomplete creatures, all of us. And we learn best from mistakes, either our own or others’.”

He ties off the ponytail, glancing out the windshield for a minute. “So no, Clara, I don’t think you’re dumb for not seeing the signs. I think you’re brave, because once you realized things weren’t quite right, before you’d even figured out what was wrong, you left. You got out of there, you kept yourself safe. And that’s the smart thing to do.”

He reaches for my hand, and I find that I’ve turned sideways in the seat while I listened to him, my good hand just within his reach. He gives it a squeeze as he continues. “You realized there was danger, and you reacted appropriately. And once you realized exactly how dangerous the situation had become, you got help, which is also a super intelligent move. So, Clara, you’re not dumb. You’re brave, and you’re smart, and you’re still learning, just like we all are.”

Tears are streaming down my face yet again. “Damn it, Jansen. I just finished crying,” I choke out.

He laughs, yanking my water bottle from my bag and handing it to me, somehow knowing that I’d cried enough in the last hour for a headache. I take a swig while he comes around to open my door and help me out. He leaves the windows open, moving my bag to the trunk. “My turn,” he says, starting up a hill.

“So what’s your big secret?”

He grins at me, snatching my water bottle and taking a sip himself. “I was totally spooning with Walker when I woke up this morning.”

I snort, imagining them cozy together in my bed. “Little spoon?” I ask, giggling.

“Of course! Walker is a big-spoon-only kind of guy.”

“It’s really cozy!” I say.

Jansen nods, mock serious. “Super cozy. Ten out of ten recommend.”

I laugh, following him up the hill. We come around a bend, and ahead, on the top of the hill, is a huge tower. White stone climbs up to arched windows, topped with a green roof, shaped exactly like a witch’s hat. I gasp. “We’re at the Witch’s Hat? I didn’t realize you could come up here.” I run the last few steps to the base of the tower, ignoring the jostling in my shoulder.

Brushing my hand along the white stones, the rough cut is like sandpaper skidding against my palm. “I mean, you can see it from the freeway, but I guess I never thought that it was an actual destination, if that makes any sense?”

Jansen grabs my hand and pulls me around to a door tucked into one side of the tower.

“Wait, you can go in?” I ask.

Jansen flashes me a grin, his green eyes twinkling as he pulls something out of his back pocket. “Clara, can you keep an eye out? Let me know if anyone is coming?”

“Sure,” I say, glancing around the park before what he said sinks in. I turn back in time to see Jansen jam a strange key into the top lock and slam it with the bottom of my water bottle. “You’re breaking in,” I panic whisper, suddenly taking my lookout duties seriously.

“Of course,” Jansen says. “They’re only open once a year for an ice cream social, so how else are we supposed to get in here?”

I see two red “Fire” stickers by the top lock, and no handles. “It says this is a fire door. What if an alarm goes off?”

Jansen pulls the key out of the top lock, picks out a different key and repeats the maneuver with the bottom lock. They really must not want people breaking into this place, double locking it and all. I check the park again, listening to the hum of the cars on the highway below.

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