“Go on, baby.” I gestured for Cassidy to go to her backpack. She met my gaze with a pleading desperation in her blue eyes.
I know. I know. We’re fucked. We were damned if we did and damned if we didn’t. The last thing we needed was for any officer anywhere to check up on us, but what else could we do? I could overtake this puny man and we could run. Hell, we already were running. But this was different. Sticky. There were too many witnesses probably watching from behind the dingy curtains in the motel. The MC’s exodus was too noisy not to warrant everyone’s attention.
She obeyed though, likely coming to the same shitty conclusions as me. After one moment of searching through the backpack on the bike’s seat, she reached past me and handed her driver’s license to the man.
“You too. License and registration.” He eyed me civilly but suspiciously and tapped his finger to the handle of my bike.
I feigned looking for my wallet as I patted the pocket at my hip. “I must have put it in the bag. Hold on a sec and I’ll get it.”
My wallet was in my back pocket. I’d comply, of course, as crappy of a surrender that would be. Stalling never hurt though, even if it wouldn’t avoid the inevitable. As soon as he logged my name into his computer in the cruiser parked a few spots away…
Such bullshit. From the instant Cassidy associated herself with me, a convicted felon, she’d gained the aftertaste of my reputation. Even if she hadn’t wounded a man of law, she’d forever be on the wrong side of it by simply tagging along with me.
Maybe she’d be better off without me—
She darted her hand down and grabbed mine. The bitingly fierce grip and the violent tremble in her fingers saddened me. I fought the instinct to frown. She was terrified, and rightly so. At least I wasn’t alone in that boat.
“See that you do.” Officer Jonny backpedaled with Cassidy’s info.
It was over. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Michael slipped out of the apartment. He had to be pissed we’d gotten away, no matter what his incentive for attacking Cassidy even was. Probably pretty angry about that skillet rebuke too.
More than enough time had passed where he had to be sharing her—our—names with his colleagues. Our faces and statistics would be attached to every alert system—in the country, not just the Midwest. Some kind of hybrid man of authority, Michael was bizarrely powerful. Officiating not only in the state of Ohio but also for the FBI. He’d pack a potent executive reach.
We were screwed.
“Luke…” Cassidy whispered as I turned to the backpack and pretended to search for my wallet.
She knew it too. I had no words of comfort. Nothing like a false reassurance we’d scrape out of it this time. From the corner of my eye, I viewed the townie in his cruiser. Through the windshield, I could make out his attention turned to the monitor of his computer, his face scowling and unhappy as he quickly brought his shoulder radio piece toward his mouth. He spoke, and I knew it was a condemnation. Leaning over, he tapped into his keyboard, glancing at the card in his hand.
“Just…” What? I didn’t know what to tell her. I rubbed my free hand over my mouth and ground my teeth harder. I didn’t want to admit defeat, not on her account. Forfeiting my ploy at digging for my wallet, I faced her. Tears welled in her eyes and I brushed my thumb along her lip, trying to calm the wobble there. A sweet, innocent spitfire like her didn’t deserve this. My first assumption that she’d brought Michael and trouble onto herself had disappeared since last night. I might not know much about the petite woman I’d woken up next to, but this shouldn’t be her life. Cassidy didn’t belong next to me, experiencing this gut-churning and racing-breaths trepidation at being caught. She was—
“You’re good to go.” Officer Jonny rushed at us from his cruiser, his sudden reappearance robbing me of breath. Despite his announcement, each step he pounded toward us was like another nail sealing in the coffin. He eyed me so sternly and turned to her. “Thank you for your cooperation, miss.”
Jaw hanging open, she extended her hand to take the card he returned to her.
“I’ve gotta get to a ten-fifty-three. Someone holding up the gas station—” Already, he trotted back to his vehicle, tossing another critical glare at me. “Y’all be careful tonight. Hawk and his boys ain’t trouble.”
Could have fooled me.
“They’s just particular ’bout their territory.” He jumped back into his car and promptly left.
I stared at the empty space a moment longer, zoned out to the flickering illumination of the parking lot’s lamppost. Numb to the faint breeze bending through the air.
“What just happened?” I spoke it aloud without expecting an answer. A choked laugh followed and I felt like dropping to the ground in exhaustion.
The unbelievable had just occurred.
We’d gotten a break.
And we’d be stupid not to take advantage of it. I turned to Cassidy and she walloped herself into me. Smacking her forehead to my chest, I felt more than saw her take a deep, shuddering breath. Relief. It was sweet, and in my experience, often short-lived.
I couldn’t step away as she pressed against me, using me as a wall. Support. I wouldn’t stop offering it to her now. Her crash from fear had to be identical to the goosebump-raising calm forced at us at getting off the hook so easily.
This wouldn’t be the first time I’d wrapped my arms around her. On the couch this morning, we’d been an inseparable mess. When I’d come out here and saw Hawk pawing at her, I’d wanted to tear each digit and limb from his body, but I’d hugged her, staking my not-so-honest claim on her.
I snaked my hands around her small body and gathered her close. If I had the levity to digest my intention, that I was embracing her willingly, sincerely, I wouldn’t know if I was consoling her or seeking comfort myself.
Her chest rose and fell in another shaky breath, like such a small, fragile creature depending on me. Counting on me to help her stand up again after such a close call. I braced one arm around her back and brought my hand up to cradle the back of her head, tucking her even harder to me. Soft wisps of blonde teased in the wind and covered my fingers.
After years of no intimacy, no compassion, no deep connection to another soul, I couldn’t fight this clutch. I’d been overwhelmed by her physical touch—by her—since the first moment she took my hand, but this? This simple gesture of her trust in me brought me to my proverbial knees.
The intensity of how much I cared about her frightened me as any new phenomenon in life could startle a person, especially as I’d only known her for a day.
She sniffled and wriggled her face into my shirt, inhaling long and hard. Her arms relaxed around my waist.
“Let’s—” God, I really was getting soft. Standing here like an invitation for Hawk to come back? What were we doing waiting in the open? I stepped back fast and kept hold of her shoulders, an arm’s length of warm air easing in the gap. “Let’s get out of here.”
I’d paid for a room, but between a touchy MC President and having Cassidy checked out, it was nothing short of a death wish to linger.
She didn’t argue, and while she wouldn’t meet my gaze, she climbed onto the bike.
Chit chats weren’t the easiest over the drone of the engine, but as I sped us away into the night again, we spoke.
“What the hell happened?” was the first thing out of her mouth. My thoughts exactly.
“How could he just…let me go?” Her hands crept across my stomach as she hugged me closer.
“I’m thinking one of two things.” I focused on maneuvering and leaning into a sharp turn to the highway ramp. Her fingers dug into me.
“Well?”
“He either didn’t actually look you up, or there was nothing to see.”
The first option seemed plausible. Jonny hadn’t been in the cruiser for long. I’d watched him type on the keyboard, but maybe the results hadn’t pulled up fast enough before he’d been summoned on his radio. It was a much more likely scenario
than an alert not being broadcast for Cassidy.
“How could there be nothing to see?” She made a noise of frustration close to my ear as she’d ducked against me to speak over the increasing noise of the ride. “You don’t knock out and kill—almost kill—a cop and just get away with it.”
I didn’t think so either.
“And he’d already sent others after me. Us.”
Right. The bomb at the building. My building. For as fast as everything was changing and threatening us on the run, I’d let that detail, that significant fact, fall into a recessed part of my mind. I no longer had a home. A place to call mine. Somewhere to be at peace. But I’d never really had any of those things—not since my parents were killed in a car accident when I was still a teenager. I hadn’t lost anything worth crying about in that apartment.
“I don’t see how it’s possible I’m not on some most wanted list,” she said.
I didn’t say as much, but I agreed. Michael had had enough time to recoup and at least dispatch other members of law enforcement after us. Hell, he had to have framed me, too, seeing as I was absent from home and could be presumed to be with Cassidy.
“How much further?” she asked, seeming to want to end this discussion about herself.
By my estimation, we had a little over two more hours to get to the Big Apple. I’d been feeling stale and raw enough to want to take a rest for the day earlier. Now I was alert and wide awake, charged into escaping after Hawk and Jonny. It’d make no sense to finish off our journey tonight though. She wouldn’t be able to get into Griffin Bank until morning, and if I had to pick between crashing somewhere in New York City or at some smaller locale, I’d go for the latter.
“I’ll stop a ways out.” If I were to get any sleep tonight, it’d come easier with a decent distance from the location where Cassidy may or may not have been flagged. Perhaps she was feeling the same, because she didn’t press for more details or argue. Silence, save for the wind rushing past us and the hearty rumble of the bike under us, carried us away.
Forty-some minutes later, I exited the expressway and checked the outskirts of another highway stop. It was a smaller town again, or at least the strip leading to one, but it was slightly bigger, better maintained with working streetlamps, and no obvious clues of municipal disarray. I didn’t sense the same pathetic desperation of the area like I had in the Podunk town we’d last stopped at.
“We should get something to tide us over for the night,” she said as I braked the bike at a red light.
Yes. We needed food, water. I wanted more smelly ointment for my shoulder. And whether she’d be a fan of it or not, Cassidy required some products as well. Items that might make her stand out less for the next time we might be identified.
Together, we headed into a convenience store and gathered our things. In the cosmetics and personal hygiene aisle, I pointed my finger at the absurdly large variety of options. “Take your pick.”
She sighed and her face crumpled at the choices of hair dye.
“It’s— You’re too—”
She held up a hand to silence me. “I know. I know. Sort of makes me easier to spot.”
I nearly smiled. She thought she needed pink hair to stand out? I’d be able to notice her no matter what her soft tresses looked like. The sassy sparkle in her bright blues would grab my attention first.
“May as well try something new.” She chose a light auburn. Redhead. Huh. Her fair skin and sometimes testier temperament would match the stereotype.
We purchased our things and headed to a motel. Side by side again, we entered the lobby and paid for a room. I had to lay on the charm a little thick, a tool I was glad I hadn’t lost completely since I’d become a jaded ex-con. The dim-witted receptionist believed my story about losing our credit cards and IDs courtesy of a rental car theft while stopping somewhere along the highway. Within minutes, we were on our way to a room.
Cassidy didn’t seem to want to talk. Maybe she was uncomfortable at the thought of sharing a room with me, or at least apprehensive about the way we’d cohabited the last night. One glance at the bed as we entered the space, and my thoughts flashed back to the exquisite torture of waking up with her so intimately.
Or perhaps she was still shaken up about the bikers. And almost being caught by Jonny. And being on the run at all, moving ahead in the dark without answers of why any of this was happening.
“You go ahead.” She broke my musings and gestured toward the bathroom. Our purchases were set on the single table in a room, and she jerked a thumb at the hair dye. “I’ll take longer. I’d hate to make you wait.”
I shrugged, appreciating the rarity of being first at anything of a basic pleasure, and took a shower. Hot water eased some of the tension from my body, but there was nothing I could do about the mess in my head. Or the creeping tightness in my heart at the thought of Cassidy. She was starting to matter too much. A stranger! Of course we were together like this. How else would I be able to get any clue of what I’d embroiled myself with? Even still, had I just met her, and she’d been in need of my help in any other way than me fighting off Michael for her, I’d be there at her side.
She was the first person to not look at me as scum at the mere idea of my record that she still wasn’t completely informed about. She’d gone to lengths not telling Zero about me, trusting that she could hide my identity from her friend. Her enticing be-a-fool-and-think-I’m-a-sweetheart appearance aside, she was a woman I’d be hard-pressed to walk away from.
Once I exited the shower, she headed in. While the water ran, I paced in front of the bed. I wasn’t ready to submit to fatigue. A day and most of the night’s worth of riding had me itching to move my legs.
I turned to the bathroom door as it clicked open. Steam and hints of citrus carried over to me. Cassidy walked out in a tank top and shorts, her cheeks pink and raw from probably too hot of a shower. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her bottoms. Ah. Maybe it wasn’t the temperature of the water. Modesty was very becoming on her. Those were damned tiny shorts, but I wasn’t stupid enough to let my stare linger. Lusting after her now, here, would only complicate too many things. Besides, my memory of her pressed against me would serve me well until the day I died.
“Can you help?” She pointed at her still-dry hair that was tied in a bun. Tendrils closest to her neck curled with moisture, but for the most part, she’d kept it dry. “I’ve never done this before.”
I smirked and retrieved the box of dye. “Really? Never met anyone born with pink hair.”
“I had a professional do it.” She sat in a chair and tugged the hair band loose. “I was too scared I’d screw it up.”
Standing next to her, I refused to study the graceful curve of her nape, the firm softness of her upper arms, the creamy perfection of the skin above her hem. The raw marks from Michael’s stranglehold on her remained, but faintly. She was a fast healer. I doubted it’d even bruise much. I read the instructions as she reached to the table and pulled her bag toward her.
While I draped a towel over her shoulders and extracted her hair from the ponytail she was untangling, she brought her phone forward. “Zero texted.”
I put the gloves on from the box and waited for more.
“Said to call. Had news about Rosa but still can’t find her.”
Good and bad, then.
I opened the dye, mixed the contents, and started applying it to her hair. She scrolled on her phone. The dial tone rang out clearly over speaker and she laid the device face-up on the table.
Zero picked up almost immediately. “Busy day, Cassie?”
She sighed.
Yeah, it was.
“Yep. We’ve been driving all day. Should be at the bank tomorrow. So what’s up, Z?”
“Rosa.”
“You still can’t find her?”
Zero huffed. “She’s off the grid, girlie. Nothing since she’d arrived at Nottingham. She’s not using credit cards, checking email, no calls…”
Sounded like our life, what Cassidy and I were doing. As hard as it was to conceive Rosa participating in something that would necessitate her being on the down-low, like underground-low, her behavior hinted otherwise.
“The letter she sent me isn’t international,” Cassidy said. “There’s no postal markings that would show it came from out of the country.”
“Hmm. Take a picture of it and send it to me. Maybe I can check it out.”
“Okay.”
I moved onto the next part of her hair and slathered more chemicals to it.
“Since I haven’t been finding anything about her in the present, I thought it might make sense to look back.”
She furrowed her brow, staring at the wall across us. “Okay…”
“Don’t you wonder what’s in that safety deposit box?” Zero asked.
I sure did. It had to be something big enough to bring a diabolical cop after us. No, not us. Cassidy. I had no connection to Rosa’s secrets other than tagging along with Cassidy. Why was it so easy to fall into this us business? Cassidy wasn’t going to be there for long after she had no need of me.
“Yeah. I mean,” she muttered and reached to rub at her neck but must have remembered she couldn’t with the dye-job in process, “I’ve been preoccupied with other things. Like staying alive and such…”
What did people put in those boxes protected by a bank’s vault? Irreplaceable certificates? Precious family heirlooms? Fancy jewelry? Closeted diaries?
“But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s something related to her work.” She nearly shook her head. “I hate the way it sounds, but if I have to think of something Rosa would treasure and want to protect, it’d be something about her work, her research. It’s everything to her.”
Everything? Even more than the woman sitting in front of me? I thought back to her comments about never being close to Rosa, shipped off to others and to boarding schools. That was more than just being aloof. That stunk of…avoidance? Rejection? But how or why would Rosa reject a child she’d clearly gone to the lengths to adopt?
Seek: Project Xol Page 9
