by Aden Lowe
"You didn't chase him?" My voice carried my surprise.
Flag glanced my way and put on the turn signal. "No. First, I wasn't letting you out of my sight. Second, I have no intention of running into an ambush. Third, I saw stars there for a second, so a foot race through the dark wasn't a great idea." He lurched the truck into a turn, but opposite the one he prepared for. "Good enough reasons?"
Shame flushed my cheeks. "I didn't mean it like that. Just, you're aggressive. I was a little surprised you didn't kick his butt."
Deep laughter filled the truck. "To be honest, I was too. That's always my first impulse, but I've learned to use my head a little over the years." He looked over at me again, and reached for my hand. "I'm trying to be really careful of you, Azia. I want us to have a very long life to make up for all the time we've lost." His calloused thumb brushed over my knuckles as if he soothed an injured wild animal.
Unexpected tears filled my eyes. "I'm glad you're being careful. I don't want anything to happen to us." I clutched his hand and brought it to my lips to kiss each finger.
He grunted. "Keep that up, baby, and we'll have to stop for more than coffee."
I laughed and gave his hand back. "I guess we really don't have time for that."
"Nope, we don't." Another turn signal, but this time he sedately turned into the drive-thru lane of an open-all-night fast food place. At the speaker, I lost track of everything he ordered, especially since I was really only focused on the coffee. My jaw dropped when we reached the window and the clerk started handing out bags.
"Are you serious? We couldn't eat all this in a week, even considering the amount you put away!" I quickly ran out of space to sit the bags on my lap and had to shift a couple to the floor by my feet.
He chuckled. "Hush, woman. Dig in there and hand me one of those sandwiches, and grab one for yourself. There's OJ, too, if you'd rather have that than the coffee. After you eat, just settle in. We've got a couple hours on the road ahead."
A combination of hunger and exhaustion overcame me, but I still felt the need to object. "I can drive a while. You should rest. You might even have a concussion." I handed the sandwich over, and the smell made my mouth water, so I unwrapped my own.
He took a bite and laughed. "No, baby, I don't have a concussion. I've had several, and I know what it feels like. I'm good, just a little bruise. The lump will even be gone in a few hours." He paused for another bite. "And, no, you can't drive. Your eyelids are already drooping. Eat and rest for a bit. I have plans when we get there, and you'll want to be wide awake."
The last little bit of stubbornness fled. He was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I ate in silence, passing him another bacon and egg biscuit when he asked, and drank my orange juice. When I finished, I took the time to gather our trash into one bag, and put another where Flag could reach it easily if he wanted more to eat.
A disquieting thought occurred to me. "Are you on drugs, or something?"
He choked for an instant and gulped his coffee too fast. "Goddamn! What the hell makes you ask that?"
It seemed ridiculous now that I'd said it. I shrugged. "Sorry, it just makes sense. Maybe speed or something. I mean, you've barely slept since we met. You wolf down enough food for a family of four. What am I supposed to think?"
He stayed quiet for a long moment. "Look, Azia, I need you to understand this. I don't use drugs, legal or otherwise, and I rarely drink more than one beer. You're right, I don't sleep a lot. Nightmares wake me up all the time. When that happens, I usually end up running or hitting the gym. I should probably be a bit more careful with how I eat, true. But for now, I burn a lot of calories. Even when I do manage to rest, I have to stay at least semi alert. When I'm not on a job, I put in a lot of time keeping my skills sharp and making sure I'm physically ready for anything." He took a deep breath, and another sip of coffee.
"One of my buddies, Harvard, got shot in the knee during an op. Damn thing took for fucking ever to heal, and about a year of rehab. By then, Harvard had learned to depend on the pain meds to get a little peace in his head. It didn't take long to move to oxycontin, and from there, to heroin. One morning, I dropped by his place to make sure he'd been eating. Found him fucking dead with a needle in his foot, because the veins in his arms were all blown. The tox report said he shot a large dose of H laced with fentanyl. I watched all that happen, helpless to stop it. So no, you never have to worry about me using any kind of drugs."
I sat there a long time, absorbing what he said. "I'm sorry for doubting you. And I'm sorry for your friend. But what if the same thing happens to you? You do dangerous stuff. What if you get hurt? Then you'll be taking the medicine." I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, anxious over his reply.
"I know you didn't mean anything bad. But no, I won't take the meds, even if I'm hurt. I've been shot, had deep wounds that took a while to heal and hurt like the end of fucking time. And the only meds I took were antibiotics and Tylenol. So, no, it ain't happening." He went back to eating his biscuit, and I sat there, deep in thought. Every part of me hurt for him, for the harsh life he lived.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Flag
I drove on into the early morning with Azia's words echoing through my mind. If I had any doubts about her sincerity before, they were gone. She wouldn't have asked about drugs and shit like that if she didn't care. It wasn't exactly a subject you brought up with a guy you thought might be speeding, especially if he was three times your size and a trained killer.
Her breathing finally evened out and she slumped against the armrest, asleep. I flipped on some music to combat the mind-numbing weariness. The two hours I slept after I fucked her were probably the longest I'd slept soundly at one stretch in years. While physically, I felt good, I still craved more of that deep restful sleep. No matter though, it would have to wait until the motherfucker after Azia laid six feet under. If I let my guard down even for a moment, I would give him an opening. There was no fucking way I would take that risk.
In a small town, I stopped at a twenty-four hour convenience store to top off the gas tank. While the gas pumped, I quickly inspected the truck and found the small magnetic transmitter under the rear bumper. The bastard was following, so I had to make good time or my plan would fall apart. I wasted no time getting back on the road, leading him to a trap.
The decision to be with her might doom us both. The risk to me meant nothing. I would walk through the fires of hell to lay eyes on her. Taking chances with her life made me physically sick. Puking sick. The moment I decided to take the job for her, I put her in danger, and if she were harmed because of me, my life wouldn't be worth living. Shame burned in my gut and mixed with bad coffee and greasy food to give me heartburn.
I knew better. I should have sent her on to one of the others, but if I had, I would have never had the chance to tell her I loved her again. My empty life would go on just like always, without the realization of what happened to us. As hard as I tried, I couldn't fully regret the decision. A kind of peace I never knew existed settled over my soul with the knowledge she loved me, then and now.
As I drove, I considered how to handle the future, after I dealt with the killer. Trick faced the same challenges I did now, so I desperately needed to speak with him. An assassin could already be headed our way. I knew of a couple of guys who got out by running, but they never had real safety. They always had to look over their shoulders, because the next woman pushing a baby stroller they met in the street could be an operative sent to kill them. A faked death might work, but pulling it off would take a lot of planning, which I didn't have time for.
All that left me with the same choice Trick made, to basically tell the Agency to fuck off. He maintained an uneasy agreement with them, still meeting his obligations, but living his life too. Now, as I stared down the barrel of the future, I needed to know how to make the same thing happen for Azia and me.
Since signing the papers that essentially ended my life, I only ever dealt wi
th the civilian asshole, who I learned was actually a CIA operative who went by the name John Smith. Real fucking creative. If Trick dealt with anyone else, I needed to know who, and how to get in touch. John Smith wasn't exactly the agreeable type.
Not long after full daylight, I left the highway and stayed on smaller roads, avoiding early traffic and police. I'd rather no hurt anyone, but I couldn't afford to let anyone, even cops, interfere now. I had to kill that motherfucker so Azia and I could get started on our life together. And I was on a tight schedule to get everything ready before he reached us.
I pushed the truck hard, and the big V-8 drank the gas, requiring me to stop again. The dual tanks held plenty to reach our destination, but I preferred to keep it as near full as possible.
Azia roused as I got back in and I leaned over to kiss her. "Morning, sunshine. You need the bathroom before we get back on the road?"
"Mm. Morning. Yes I do." In a rush, she unfastened the seatbelt and bolted from the truck. I followed more sedately, staying where I could keep an eye on both her, and the truck. She came out, and I wordlessly handed her the fresh coffee I bought her. "Thank you." She took a careful sip, made a delighted sound and took another. "Where are we?"
"Southern Ohio. About half an hour from the cabin." I helped her back into her seat.
"There's a cabin?" Her startled expression made me smile. "That sounds…well, not like we're running from a killer."
I went around and climbed in, avoiding her unspoken question for a moment, and got us back under way.
"Flag? What aren't you telling me?" The same stubbornness she showed hints of earlier came out again.
"We're going to an isolated cabin I have access to. There, I can do whatever it takes to bring the bastard down, without risking other people." I left it at that. She didn't need to know the measures I was willing to take.
I should have known better. "If we're at a cabin in the woods, and he's back home, that puts Carrie at more risk. He'll be angry that we got away." Yeah, the stubborn streak grew wider by the moment.
I sighed, resigned to giving her more information. "He's not there. He's following us. I found a tracking device on the truck, one he planted while we were at the motel, just like I figured he would."
The glimpse I caught of her scowl sent a thrill through my dick. "Well, how did you know he would do that? You couldn't have known. What if he hadn't? Your little plan would be useless, and Carrie might be dead." The assertive tone suited her, and only served to make me want her more.
I made sure to stare straight ahead so I didn't smile and piss her off more. "Well, I made sure he could follow, either way. I left the door open at the motel, and left some notes jotted down, and a rough map. If he didn't follow us electronically, he would think I was careless enough to leave information he could use. Either way, he won't be far behind." I waited, ready for more questions.
"Hmm. Okay." She sipped her coffee in silence, leaving me to wonder what went through her pretty head.
I turned off the main road and took the one lane for a few miles, while Azia stared out the window. The rough, forested hills here were different from the rolling countryside she was used to. "Have you ever been down this way before?"
She shook her head. "No. I haven't traveled much at all." The silence seemed almost painful. "I didn't want to experience things without you, and that wasn't possible."
Yeah. I knew exactly what she meant. "You might actually enjoy this, then. It sure as fuck won't be like anything you've done before." I slowed, searching for the concealed turn onto the rough gravel track. Grown up brush almost covered it completely, making me glad for the four-wheel-drive. I eased the truck into the tight opening, pushing vines and branches as gently as possible so they could spring back into place behind us. The more hidden the turn stayed, the longer I had to prepare for the killer's visit.
Azia gawked in astonishment, eyeing the narrow ruts that disappeared quickly into the heavy forest. "Please tell me we're not driving on that?"
"Yeah, we are, for almost a mile. You might want to grab the oh shit bar over there. It gets pretty rough on up here." I kept my grin smothered, figuring she wouldn't be too pleased with my enjoyment of her reactions.
"The oh shit bar? What's that?" She looked around in confusion.
I pointed. "The handle there, over your door. It'll help you keep your balance when we hit the rough spots." The right front tire dropped into a deep hole then, rocking the truck hard in that direction.
Azia grabbed for the dash, trying to brace herself. "Oh my God! You're going to kill us!"
I kept the truck moving so it climbed out of the hole, just in time for the rear wheel to drop in. "Seriously, grab the bar. It will help." Finally, she took my advice. Other than a few smothered squeals when we reached really bad areas, she stayed fairly calm.
In one area, I paused to decide the best way to navigate the next few yards. A slab of rock ended with a sharp drop into a truck-eating cavity, while large trees pushed in on either side.
Azia stretched her neck to see what interested me. When she realized, she shook her head. "No. I'm getting out. I'll walk the rest of the way." The seatbelt hissed as she released it.
"Fuck if you are." I grabbed her arm before she could get the truck door open. "These woods are full of poison ivy, poison oak, snakes, coyotes, and other wildlife you don't want to encounter. So no, you are not getting out."
She paled. "Oh." It only took a moment for her seatbelt to click into place again. "When you put it that way, I guess I'll take my chances in the truck. But I promise, if you scare me to death, I'll…well, I don't know, but you won't like it."
I grinned. "Don't worry. I'm going to taste your pussy again in a few minutes, so I'm not taking any chances." There, she had something else to think about.
"You know you're incorrigible, right?" Her face flushed a gorgeous shade of pink. Fucking beautiful.
"Yeah, I know. And I still can't wait to feel you come on my dick again." I let the truck roll forward, carefully hanging to the left. The front dropped over, and for an instant, I thought we were hung up before the earsplitting screech of metal on rock signaled otherwise. I kept it moving, dreading the damage to the rear when the back tires dropped. "Hold on tight."
The truck rocked hard, landing with bone-jarring impact and Azia screamed. I had no time to check on her or recover, though, if I wanted to get the truck out of there. I gunned it and the engine roared, pushing hard to climb out of the hole.
Finally, we topped out on the crest of a small hill. Before us, a small clearing held a cabin that looked more like an oil painting than a shelter. I pulled the truck up to the little porch and put it in park. "Your fucking mansion awaits, baby." I grinned and dodged the half-hearted attempt to smack me.
"Flag, this place is falling down! We can't stay here. Oh, God, what have you gotten me into?" She shook her head, looking sad. "When you said cabin, I thought you meant small house. But no, you were talking about a cabin that's been here two hundred years."
I laughed. "Don't let appearances fool you, Azia. We'll be roughing it some, but it's a lot more comfortable than it looks from here. Best of all, there's a real bed, and clean sheets, where I can eat your pussy and fuck you until we're both worn out from coming so much." The beautiful blush returned to her face. "Come on, let's get inside. I'll show you around, and I have to do a few things first, but then, I have every intention of doing exactly what I just said."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Azia
The first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the truck was the noise. For some reason, I always had the impression the forest was quiet. Instead, leaves rustled in the slight breeze, birds made all sorts of noise and went about the business of life. There were probably plenty of bugs and small animals mixed in there, too, but I didn't know enough to identify their voices. I stood there and tried to take it all in. The vastness of the trees dwarfed everything. The breeze carried an underlying hint of decay. Under
my feet, grass formed a deep, spongy mat.
Flag's sudden presence by my side startled me. "What do you think?"
I shook my head, with no idea what to say. "It's very…different. I'm reserving judgement for now."
His chuckle spread warmth through my chest. That could easily become my favorite sound in the world. "Let's get everything inside. You can check it out in there while I'm getting things ready out here." He grabbed some of our things. "Come on."
I took one of my bags, and decided to come back for the other, then followed Flag.
He opened a rusty padlock on the door, and had to give a hard shove to get it to open. Musty air flowed out, as if the place had waited to breath. Reluctant now, I stayed close behind as he went inside. It only took him a moment to light some kind of oil lamp so I could at least see what I had to contend with.
Much to my surprise, the inside of the cabin turned out to be spacious and almost charming. Flag went outside and opened shutters, allowing the sunlight to flow in. Dust covered all the surfaces, but the pride of craftsmanship showed through. The interior walls were the other side of the same logs as outside, but polished and smoothed, every one of them unique and beautiful in its own right. Broad planks formed the floor, also polished, but otherwise natural.
Sturdy, handmade furniture filled the space. By the far wall, more logs formed the bedframe. In the corner nearest the door, a massive stone fireplace dominated the entire cabin. Heavy pots hung from hooks embedded in the stone, presumably for cooking, since I saw no other means of food preparation. Nearby shelves were heavily laden with mason jars and metal containers. Just a few feet away, a thick slab of wood perched on a framework of small logs to make the table, and three simple chairs waited. Squarely in the middle of the place, a wood-framed sofa sported a plastic cover to protect the cushions, along with two matching chairs and a low table.
Except for the pervasive dust, everything looked spotless, and it should only take a short time to make it livable. "Um, where's the bathroom." I looked around, but no doors led off the main room.
