Page 36 of Safe
“Fine. Just for a little bit. Just to help my mom out.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just for a little bit. I got you.” I knew Landon didn’t believe me by the dismissive tone in his words, but it wasn’t immediately obvious that he was dismissive because once I said yes, he wasn’t going to let me back out, and not because he thought I’d change my mind on my own.
It wasn’t bad at first. I tried my best to pretend I had no clue the stuff I was selling was stolen—it helped me keep my conscious clean. I told my mom I got a job bagging groceries at a store I knew she couldn’t afford to shop at, so I had no chance of her trying to show up and see me. Without even realizing it, the “overflow” of stolen items was sold, and I was still there, still helping, still collecting the money. The longer I stayed, the more it escalated.
One particular instance in high school, on prom night, Landon decided to rob the liquor store. He made me keep watch, and once he came out running, I bolted after him without thinking. But it wasn’t Landon who got caught; it was me. He never came back for me, never turned himself in, nothing. It was the first time in my life that I had ever gotten in any trouble. My parents had to come pick me up from the police station, and I ended up having to do community service. Landon never got in trouble for it because I never gave him up. That was the first time I took the blame for something Landon did, but it wouldn’t be the last.
When I saw him again a few days later, he gave me half the money he made from selling the bottles of liquor to other kids at prom as a thank you for keeping his name out of it. Thatwas the beginning of the new relationship between us—Landon doing what Landon does, and me getting paid to cover his ass.
After that, most of the jobs he gave me were simple: drop a bag here, pick up a bag there. The tasks were easy enough, and Landon always took care of me. The higher up he got, the better the payouts were.
When he called me a few weeks ago and told me he had a long-term job with a lot of cash involved, and all I had to do was stay in a hotel, I was suspicious, but in. It wasn’t until I got there that I realized the breadth of what I was doing.
“What do you mean Danielle is in the hospital? Is she okay?” I was confused once he explained what I’d be doing. “And why can’t you just go see her?”
“Because I put her there, idiot.”
“Landon… no.”
Looking back on that conversation now, I should have just walked away. Sure, he always had me doing shady shit, but in the past few weeks, he had added stalking, grand theft auto, arson, and a whole rack of other smaller charges to the list of shit he’d put on me. Accomplice to murder? I wasn’t sure about that one, but definitely something along the lines of aiding and abetting, accessory after the fact, harboring a fugitive… the list went on.
I should have turned around and said no the second he asked for my help, but I felt a sick, co-dependent sense of loyalty to him.
Despite all the bullshit he had put me through my entire life, he was also the only friend I had, and he helped me in more ways than he realized. The money he gave me for helping him with shit got my family out of the shithole they were in. Under the guise of a hell of a good job, I helped my parents out. My siblings got to go to college. None of that would have been possible without Landon. I felt like I owed him.
But now it had gotten to a point where he was careless and senseless enough to light a car on fire, in broad daylight, on the side of a busy road. I had this gut feeling that I needed to find a way out sooner rather than later, but the only way anyone walked away from Landon is the same way Danielle did—dead or dying.
I was so close to snapping, and I was itching to shake some fucking sense into him, but I still couldn’t walk away; it would have been like turning my back on family. All it would take was one wrong step, or one more immoral, corrupt move, and I wasn’t sure I could give Landon my loyalty anymore.
The longer I stayed in the hotel room, the more I felt like a prisoner. My freedom and financial stability were lying in the hands of the irrational shell of a man that I once called a friend.
Just as I was reflecting on the nature of our relationship and how it evolved, I heard the key swipe in the door, and the heavy bootsteps of Landon entering the room.
“You’ve got to stop this, Landon. We’ve got nothing. We’re never going to get anything.” The pleading further agitated him, and it was apparent that he no longer saw me as a friend, or a person for that matter, but an extension of his work—someone to do his dirty work—and nothing more.
“We stop when I fucking say we stop. And I say we stop when I make sure we’re both in the clear. For good.” He left no room for debate, and even if he did, it would fall on deaf ears.
“Whenwe’rein the clear?” I pressed him to answer. Maybe he wasn’t completely gone. Maybe he was still looking out for me, his friend.
“Well, I obviously can’t let you get caught. If you get caught, I get caught.” The words were harsh without him even realizing it. He didn’t give a fuck about me.
I wasn’t even sure at this point if he even gave a fuck about Danielle anymore. All he cared about was himself and the control he had over others.
I was at my fucking limit.
17. DANIELLE
After Cody pushed me away, I pressed my back to the wall, letting the hot water beat down as I slid to the floor. My legs folded beneath me as I wrapped my arms tight around my ribs like they might hold me together. A sob clawed its way up before I could stop it—then another. I didn’t try to hide them. I just sat there and let it come.
How could he appear to want something so bad, but at the same time, lose the ability to accept it when it happens? I felt like I had played with his emotions, preyed upon the vulnerability I saw in him, and used him to rebel against the growing voice in my head that I was at fault for everything that led us both here.
I didn’t love him; I needed him. I thought I needed Cody to feel better about myself, and I suppose I thought he needed me in the same sense. What I really needed was time to heal, and a friend, and I felt terrible for what I had done.
The weeks slipped by with no sign of Landon or Thomas. Every lead Alex pursued turned to smoke, and both men were virtually nonexistent. Oddly enough, I found myself less concerned about their whereabouts than I should have been. While danger still lurked somewhere, I was experiencing a kind of happiness I'd never known before.
That kiss remained unspoken between us, but its aftermath brought a new depth to our relationship. We spent our days learning each other's stories, sharing laughter, and building something that settled somewhere between friendship and love. I couldn't quite define it, but I didn't want to end.
As my body healed, my confidence grew. Each fading bruise, every diminishing scar, became a milestone that marked my journey toward becoming someone new. The promise of a fresh start someday kept me pushing forward, even on the hardest days.
