Chapter Twelve
Sam
Wearing thrift store casual, we drive west for hours. Depending on how freaked I am at any given moment, the gas tank reads half-empty or half-full.
Suds glances in the rearview mirror and his jaw twitches. The first few times his mouth tightened, my adrenaline raced but now, I simply twist my head and study the pavement.
Rubbing the ache in my neck, I yawn. “We’re still clear.”
“Thanks.” Dark circles line my man’s brown eyes as he places his hand on my thigh.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”
“Nope.” His large palm covers mine.
He can focus on the road but all I have is the monotonous rolling hills of Pennsylvania.
Stretching, I place my bare feet on the dashboard and wiggle my pink toes. “Was it really necessary to leaveeverythingbehind?”
“You see anyone following us?” His right brow rises.
He’s tired so I ignore his snarkiness and continue to think out loud. “Hmmm. Well, the trackers had to have been planted at the same time as the murder weapon.”
“Agreed. Our thief wasn’t your basic run-of-the-mill thug. He was a well-trained operative. Dammit. I should’ve seen that one coming.”
“Me too. I wish to God I could go back in time and question him. At least we’d have a clue who is after me.”
“Regardless, we need to lay low. I’ll be pulling off at the next exit to hock your diamond but don’t worry, I’ll leave word for Slate to buy it back.”
“Okay.” Tears well and a childish part of me wants to disagree. Our only other option is to resort to stealing and for sure, we’ll be caught.
Throat tight, eyes stinging, I pull off my engagement ring and place it in the cup holder between us.
Suds winks, reaches over, and squeezes my upper arm. “Think of this as a second honeymoon. Don’t worry, I got you covered, honey.”
Not wanting him to see me bawl, I force a smile. “So, where’re we headed?”
At my shitty acting, my husband grins. His face lights up so handsome, the lady lips between my legs twitch and hot liquid flows. I can’t wait to stop for the night and make love until my brain cells refuse to fire.
His voice softens, his shoulders drop, and some tension drains from his visage. “I own a little cabin outside Salt Lake City. There’s supplies, some cash, and most importantly, allies. Other than food and gas, I don’t plan on stopping. If you need to catch a few z’s, do it now so you can drive while I nap.”
Sleep? He’s’ got to be kidding. I got a price on my head, I witnessed God-knows-what, and I’m probably going to spend the rest of my natural life behind bars.
“Stop frettin’. We’ll figure this out.” Usually, I appreciate his mind reading skills but his optimism isn’t founded in reality.
My brain refuses to slow down. “Why plant a gunandput a price on my head? It’s overkill, don’t you think?”
“Good one.” My husband, partner, and lover chuckles.
“Huh? I’m not with you.”
“Overkill?” He laughs even harder because he realizes I hadn’t meant it as a joke.
“Stop. I was being serious. Why use my head as evidence with a price on my gun?”Oh shit, I must be really tired.
Suds glances at me, I look at him, then we burst into hysterics.
A few miles down the highway, I sigh, wipe my eyes, and return to problem solving with a better perspective. “Dammit. I wish I could access the cloud and download those pictures.”
