“Then what else are we going to drive?”
“I’ll figure it out.” He gave her a hard look over his shoulder. “Time to go.”
Opening the door a crack, he peered out toward the direction of the front office. The unmarked police car was standing outside, one cop waiting in the passenger seat for his partner who had gone inside.
Razor swiveled his head in the opposite direction, his gaze landing on a piece of shit minivan parked four doors down. He’d seen the van’s owner at the vending machine when he’d picked up Willow’s snacks. The guy looked like he’d been on a serious bender, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes as he staggered back to his room with an armful of chips and candy.
While Razor wasn’t in the habit of stealing, he figured he was doing the general public a service by keeping the drunk from getting back on the road anytime soon.
“Come on,” he said to Willow behind him. “This way.”
They hurried along under the shade of the motel’s roof overhang. When they reached the van, it took Razor all of two seconds to mentally unlock the doors and fire up the engine.
“Get in,” he ordered Willow. She didn’t look enthused to be his partner in crime, but she was also smart enough to realize she had no other choice.
They climbed into the van and Razor drove it out of the parking lot, keeping one eye trained on the rearview mirror to make sure the police didn’t decide to follow. They weren’t going to get far in a stolen vehicle, and Willow was right about the fact that he couldn’t stay behind the wheel for long with the midday sun shining into the windshield.
As if she were tapped into his thoughts, Willow glanced at him. “You should get in back and let me drive until the sun goes down.”
He gave a gruff shake of his head. “We don’t have that kind of time. Besides, I’ve seen how you drive your Jeep. I’ll take my chances in the sun.”
Her brows rose. “Is that supposed to be a joke? From you?”
He smirked despite the torrent of humorless emotions churning inside him. “We’re not going to be in this van for long.”
“Good,” she said, glancing behind her into the dark cavern of the interior where the van’s owner had apparently been living on and off. She wrinkled her nose. “What is that awful smell back there?”
“We probably don’t want to know.”
Razor drove toward downtown Cheyenne, a plan beginning to hatch in his mind as they crossed a railroad track. The tracks appeared to originate in the direction of an industrial compound that was belching out gray smoke in the distance.
He took the next turn that would take them closer to the railyard.
“We need to talk about your mark,” he said, swiveling his head to look at her.
She shrugged. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Let’s start with the fact that you’re a fucking Breedmate.”
“You think I need a reminder?”
Something in her tone gave him pause. As annoyed as he was to learn this disturbing fact about her, she seemed equally upset to admit it to him. “How long did you plan on keeping it from me, Willow?”
“I assumed you knew. Didn’t Theo tell you my sister is—was—a Breedmate?”
Razor scoffed. “No, he fucking did not tell me that. If he had, I wouldn’t have—”
“You wouldn’t have . . . what?” Her brows knit as she stared at him. “You wouldn’t have agreed to help Laurel? You wouldn’t be helping me now?”
Razor swore under his breath. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. We’re here, whether either of us wants to be or not.”
Her chin rose a fraction. “Well, we don’t have to be. Stop the van right here and let me out. I can take care of myself. Believe me, I’ve been doing just fine on my own since the time I was a kid. I don’t need anyone’s charity.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Really? It’s starting to feel like it. That is, when you’re not glaring or growling orders at me.”
He let out a slow breath. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Willow. In order to do that, I need to know who killed your sister, and why. Even if you want me to walk away—even if that’s what I want too—that damn mark on your body won’t allow me to until I’m sure you’re somewhere safe where you’ll be protected.”
