Twenty-Five
Travis watched out the window as the girls climbed into Blondie’s car, parked behind Roxy’s in the narrow driveway, and continued watching until they backed out and disappeared down the street. He swiped through his phone for a few minutes, killing time, just to make sure Neal followed them if he was out there, and then got to work.
It only took two trips, but he got the back of Roxy’s 4Runner loaded up with her two small suitcases, the bin of other necessities and items she didn’t want to leave behind—including two customized, branded cowgirl hats and several pair of expensive looking cowgirl boots—and her pillows and blankets. He set the pillows and blankets in the back seat, along with a small tote bag that had essentials like chargers, the bottle of Tylenol, and several bottled waters so that it was easily accessible once they got on the road.
He didn’t want to have to stop for as long as possible. He would fill the gas tank on his way to pick her up, and then they would hit the freeway north. He wanted to get as far north as Des Moines in this first leg of the trip. Put as much distance between them and Neal as possible. It would be a ten-hour stint, gettingthem into Des Moines late that night, but he didn’t mind. She could nap in the passenger seat, if she needed to.
Glancing around her small house, he double checked everything before locking the front door and pulling it closed behind him. They wouldn’t be returning.
He had to push the driver’s seat all the way back to accommodate for his long legs, and then he was off, backing out of the driveway and heading down the street. It took fifteen minutes to get home, and he used that drive time to call Merv, filling him in on what had happened and what the plan was and letting him know his car was going to remain at Roxy’s until he could get back.
“You actually coming back?” Merv asked through the phone, and Travis scoffed.
“Yes, I’m coming back. I’m not staying. Just getting her there safely and settled in.”
The older man’s only response was a gruff harumph, filled with suspicion, which made Travis roll his eyes.
“It’s not like that, Merv.”
He harumphed again. “Alright. If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Travis muttered, pulling Roxy’s car into his driveway and turning off the engine. He groaned out loud when he glanced down, noticing she was overdue for an oil change. There was no way they could make the trip without getting that done, first. “I gotta go, old man. This woman is going to be the death of my sanity.”
“The good ones usually are. Be careful, Travis.”
Travis climbed out of the car, assuring Merv he would be cautious. Though he wasn’t sure if the old man was referring to the trip, or to Roxy herself.
It didn’t take long to throw a travel bag together, a few changes of clothes, underwear, his bathroom toiletries, and a hooded sweatshirt. A couple changes of workout clothes and hissneakers went into the bag next, because after being cooped up in a car for twenty hours he was going to need to loosen his muscles.
He changed out of the clothes he still had on from the night before, pulling on a pair of soft, well-worn jeans and a clean t-shirt, as usual the arms cut out of it. He grabbed his phone charger and then set out to pack his Glock, checking to make sure the magazines were full and then tucked all the pieces into his duffel.
Locking up on his way out, he situated his duffel in the far back of the 4Runner, and shoved the hoodie in the backseat, in case Roxy got cold. Climbing in behind the wheel, he started it, but took his phone out and shot a text to Roxy.
Travis: Hey, it’s me. Leaving my house, but your car is miserably overdue for an oil change. I’ll stop through a Take-5 on my way to get you.
It wasn’t long before the message bubbles showed up, his heart doing a little flip-flop in his chest, and she responded.
Roxy: Sorry. I was meaning to do that, it’s been a chaotic couple weeks. I’ll give you cash when you pick me up. Thank you, Travis.
Typing out another message, he asked:
Travis: I’m not worried about it, Red. Are you alright? No sign of him?
She messaged back seconds later.
Roxy: We’re fine. Sitting at one of the patio tables at Arcadia on Bryan. There’s a back entrance I can use to sneak out of when you get here. We’re okay, I promise. See you soon.
He liked the sound of that. Possibly too much.
Twenty-Six
Setting the phone down on the wrought iron patio table, a bright orange umbrella offering them shade from the afternoon sun, Roxy picked up her iced coffee, taking a sip. Natalie had already grilled her on what was going on between her and Travis, which Roxy had maintained wasnothing. Nothing was going on between them. She was leaving, she was a hot mess, and that was that.
“That stupid fucking grin on your face says otherwise, I hope you know that,” Natalie muttered drolly, gesturing to her face.
Roxy pulled her lips in between her teeth to force the smile down. She had liked seeing his name pop up on her phone. Even through the device, she could practically envision the intense, serious expression on his face as he would have been staring down at the phone in his own hands, worry for her etched in every line and plane of his stupidly handsome mug.
Natalie waved her hand in dismissal with an exaggerated, morose sigh. “It’s fine, whatever. He was never going to be interested in me anyway. You just have to promise to tell me that the sex is terrible, so I can pretend he’s not worth my time.”
