Page 2 of Hidden Rocco
“Don’t walk. Run,” Bear said. Truer words hadn’t been so obvious. Two years as cellmates, finished. “Good luck, Rock.”
“You too,” Rocco said, while Bear mock-saluted him for a final time before darting off into the dark shadows.
Rocco headed toward the main street with his hands in his pockets as his stolen sneakers squeaked.
Bear claimed that this was the part of Rocco's plan that became stupid, but Rocco’s brain was sharp.
If he thought like a police officer or prison guard, they would assume escaped men would run like rats into the shadows.
Rocco’s deceased brothers would have planned a scatter, so he did the opposite.
Sirens pierced the air and Rocco’s mind became hyperaware.
Maybe this would be a mistake and he'd get a one-way ticket back to spend the next twenty years inside the barb-wired prison.
Rocco imagined his mother’s joyful face when she opened the door to find him there, which made the risk worthwhile. He held out his hand and hailed a passing gray sedan with decals in the side window.
The vehicle with Utah license plates stopped, but he wasn’t sure how he’d pay. He didn’t have a phone or a checking account and his little bit of cash wouldn’t get him far.
Police zoomed down the street and for one second he stood, frozen, in the shadow of the closed main street pharmacy.
But the police cruiser continued down the street, right past him.
Rocco cleared his throat. “Are you taking passengers, sir?”
The man’s eyes widened and he pointed to the signs. “This is an Uber or a Lyft, for whatever app you use to call it in.”
App. On the television shows he’d seen that meant something on phones. Rocco politely and quietly said, “I lost my phone, sir.”
The man tapped his steering wheel. “Tell you what, give me fifty bucks and I’ll take you wherever you want.”
Fifty might as well be five thousand as it was currently impossible.
Rocco smiled. “Thanks anyhow. It’s a good offer but I only have twenty in cash.”
Two more police cars headed toward him.
Rocco’s body tightened and his mind screamed for him to run.
He remained by the gray sedan as the driver said, “I take electronic transfers.”
Flashing blue and red sirens racedpastthem.
The lack of a phone or an account wasn’t going to stop him now. Rocco’s heart beat fast but he met the man's gaze with a tired smile. “I don’t have my phone or wallet. It’s been a rough day, sir.”
The man’s expression eased. He unlocked his doors and pointed to the back. “You look worn out. I’ll take you to the bus station, it’s on my route, and you can make your way from there.”
This must be his grandmother in heaven shining a light on him.
Soon he’d get to his mother, somehow. He opened the back door. “Thanks, man.”
Another police car zoomed past and his entire body tightened. He needed to get to Miami and convince his mother her health was important and if he looked her in the eye, she’d keep her word. He knew her.
The driver signaled with his lights that he was going onto the street. “Seems like the police are out in force tonight.”
The kind stranger had no idea. At all. All of this was because of him. Adrenaline rushed in his veins but he met the polite stare of the man helping him and said, “They’re just doing their job. Probably going to break up a local bar brawl.”
In the mirror, Rocco noticed that the man’s brow furrowed. “Well, they’re going in the other direction, if it’s the bar I’m thinking of—I don’t drive that street for a reason.”
