“Mmmm, ugh.” Kylie stirred slowly from her spot next to him, her blue eyes doing the open and close routine as she adjusted to the land of the living.
“Morning,” Devon said, sending one last not for you to his cock before sliding a glance in her direction. Christ, even with bleary eyes and bedhead, she was still sexy as hell.
“It’s still morning?”
Devon nodded, and yeah, this was good. They should stick to the basics. “Just shy of oh-nine-hundred. How’d you sleep?”
“Like I’m running for my life,” Kylie said, wincing as soon as the words were out. “Sorry. I get kind of sarcastic when I’m scared. Kellan says it’s a defensive thing. But you didn’t sleep at all, so I shouldn’t complain.”
“You also shouldn’t apologize.” Devon lifted a shoulder halfway, then let it drop back into place against the black and red leather of the Challenger’s driver seat. “Ingrained defense mechanisms are a good thing. They mean you’re a fighter.” Annnnd since he wasn’t going to get a better segue, he added, “Now that you’re up, we should talk some specifics.”
Her body tensed, but he had to give her credit. Her chin stayed nice and high. “Okay.”
“We’re just outside of Cheyenne right now. That puts us roughly twenty-six hours from North Carolina.” Devon had mapped the route with Kellan during their phone conversation, and it hadn’t been all chuckles.
“Why do I sense the word ‘but’ coming on?” Kylie asked, and man, she got right to it.
Not that he minded. “But we have to stick to some less traveled routes, and we definitely can’t go tearing across the country like there’s a Molotov cocktail strapped to our asses. If we get pulled over, we go right into the system. Even if the cop who writes the ticket isn’t dirty, chances are, if Fagan is the player he’s claiming to be, he’ll still find it. And us.”
Devon didn’t want to add—out loud, anyway—that the guy almost certainly had whatever network was at his disposal busting its ass to try and find the Challenger, and if he’d managed even a partial ID of Devon’s plates during all the duck and run last night? That could send shit pear-shaped in a heartbeat or less.
Kylie shivered even though the sun was already promising to warm the June day well into the eighties according to the radio’s weather report. “Did Kellan have any ideas on who to take this to?”
“He’s got a few contacts he trusts at the Remington PD in North Carolina, but it’s going to take a little time. We don’t want Fagan to know we’re sniffing around,” Devon said. “The more we stay under the radar, the better. At least for now.”
“So, until then, you and I just road trip to North Carolina?”
“’Fraid so.” Devon knew it was probably the last thing she’d ever wanted to do. “By the time we get there, Kellan should have a safe plan in place. I keep a go bag in my trunk, so I’ve got a decent amount of cash and a few changes of clothes.” And a veritable arsenal, complete with plenty of ammo, but that pretty much fell under the umbrella of well, duh. “We’ll have to stop and get a few things for you. I mean, uh. You know. Under…garments and stuff.”
Kylie nodded, turning about the same shade as the magenta streak in her ponytail, which brought him to Point B. “We’re going to need to cover up your hair, too, unless you want to cut it.”
“You’re not serious.” She pinned him with a look that suggested he’d gone around the bend, her hands flying up to the now-loose elastic keeping her hair (sort of) in check.
“The pink is pretty conspicuous. All I’m saying is that changing it would make it harder to spot you. But covering it is an okay alternative.”
She sat back in her seat, pressing her lips together for a full minute before reaching for her purse to start rummaging through its contents. “Well, it’s not much, but I got decent tips over the weekend, so I have a hundred and fifty-two dollars in cash. I also have my phone, the Maglite, some toiletries…” She trailed off, her brows sliding together as she looked at him. “What?”
He let out an exhale loaded with remorse. “About your phone. I’m gonna need it.”
“But I turned it off when we left the motel, just like you asked,” Kylie said. She held the thing up as proof, and man, Devon felt like shit for what he was about to do.
Not that he wasn’t still going to do it. “I know, but there’s still a chance it can be tracked. It would take a lot of time and effort, so the chance is small, but it’s not worth the risk.”
“So, what are you going to do with it?”
“Truth?”
She nodded, and he wished like fuck she hadn’t because now he had to say, “I’m going to pull over in the next secluded spot I see and put a couple nine millimeter slugs in it, just to be sure the GPS won’t out our location.”
Her breath escaped in a shocked chirp. “You’re going to shoot my phone?”
“Sorry. But yeah.”
“What about yours? If Fagan knows your car, he knows you. Can’t he track your phone, too?” Kylie challenged, knotting her arms over her chest. God damn it, they were going to need to find her a new top when they stopped for supplies. Preferably one with the dimensions and sex appeal of a king-sized pillowcase.
“No,” Devon said, pulling over on a sandy shoulder on the desolate stretch of road. It was as good a spot as any, and the sooner he got rid of her technology, the better, really.
“No? That’s all you’ve got?”
