“I’m okay. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare. What about you? How’s Asa?”
Lyric sighed. “We’re fine. Asa thinks Zach won’t cause any problems on his own. With one of his brothers dead and the other still locked up, Zach doesn’t have the accomplices he once had.”
“That’s true.” Lauren had thought over every situation countless times. Removing Zach’s brothers from the equation was definitely a plus. Now that she knew him better, she could confidently say that the chances of Zach going rogue were slim, but not none.
“Asa said the department will keep an eye on Zach. And you,” Lyric added.
Having friends at the Blackwater Police Department was a blessing. Asa and Dawson had been therethe night Zach and his brother grabbed Lauren off the street and tied her to a chair in an abandoned building. If her friends hadn’t shown up when they did, she probably wouldn’t be sitting here today.
“Thanks, but they don’t have to do that. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t have anything Zach wants.”
It was the cold, hard truth. Unfortunately, that left her with little to bargain with today. Getting Zach to help her was a long shot—longer than the Continental Divide.
“Just be careful. We’re only a call away, and you know Asa will come running if you get even the slightest suspicion.”
There went the guilt churning again. After all Asa had done for her, including taking a bullet to the shoulder, could she really keep this secret? “I know. Thanks for checking on me, but I promise I’m fine.”
Lyric chuckled. “You’re so strong. I wish I was as brave as you.”
Brave. What a joke. Lauren had perfected the art of putting on a front, but her blood still turned cold whenever the memories crept in.
“I’ve done a lot of praying. It’s not me,” Lauren confessed.
“I’ve prayed enough for this whole town, but I still get scared.” Lyric let out a deep sigh. “Anyway. I love you, and we’re going to get through this.”
“I love you too. I’ll call you later.”
Lauren dropped the phone into the cup holder and brushed her sweaty palms against her white pants.She would tell her friends about her plans. She just needed to talk to Zach first.
The foreboding metal gate in front of the penitentiary creaked and slowly slid open. A man wearing a white T-shirt and black gym pants walked out with a backpack strap over one shoulder. He’d been wearing orange since she started visiting him—a color she’d completely eliminated from her wardrobe.
It was him. Zach Wilson was walking out of prison like it was just another day in paradise. Unfortunately, she’d know that walk anywhere. He’d walked away from her enough times to sear it into her memory.
He hadn’t spotted her yet, his attention focused on the white bus at the end of the sidewalk.
No, sir. He wasn’t getting away that easily.
“It’s go time.” Lauren slid her arms into her jacket and stepped out of the rental minivan. She was not putting miles on her own car for Zach Wilson. Plus, the check engine light was on, and getting stranded on the side of the road wasn’t on her list of things to do today.
As soon as she closed the door, Zach turned. It was in slow motion. The turn, the slight jerk in his step when he recognized her, the way he shifted course and headed right toward her. Her skin flashed hot and cold.
He stopped a few feet from her. With the sun behind him, the hard lines of his face were cast in shadow. She wasn’t used to his clean-shaven face, but she wouldn’t let the change trip her up today. The newlook actually made him look softer. Younger. Less callous.
His eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled down, then up. “What are you doing here?”
Lauren pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “No one else is coming for you.”
The bravado in his expression fell as he shook his head. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, neither should you.”
His gaze darted to her vehicle. “Go home.”
Ha! He didn’t know her at all. She wasn’t the kind to give up and go home. Crossing her arms over her chest, she doubled down. “No one is coming to pick you up. Get in the van.”
Zach mirrored her stance, showing off arms that were easily three times the size of hers. The muscles stacked on top of each other like blocks of a fortress. He leaned in a fraction of an inch to whisper, “You’re not the boss of me.”
Oh, so they were going to play games. That she could handle. She could do anything for twenty minutes, and by then, he’d be tired of standing toe to toe with her.
