She pulled back enough to look up at him. "You're really not worried about this?"
"About them destroying an empty apartment? No." His hand slid into her hair. "About keeping you safe? That's all I'm worried about. And you're here. With me. Where they can't find you."
Rachel nodded slowly. The anger was fading now, leaving her feeling drained.
"Come on," Ghost said. "Let's go for a drive. Get you out of here for a bit."
"Where?"
"You need clothes. Toiletries. Can't have you wearing my shirt for the next four days." He paused, his mouth curving. "Though I wouldn't mind."
Her face warmed. "I don't mind wearing your shirt."
"I know. But you need your own things." His hand slid down to the small of her back. "Besides, getting you out of the house will do you good. Clear your head."
Twenty minutes later, they were in Ghost's truck, heading toward a Target near the waterfront. The radio played quietly, some classic rock station. Ghost drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh. The touch was casual, comfortable, his thumb moving in absent circles against her leg through her jeans.
Rachel looked out the window, watching San Diego pass by. Saturday morning traffic was light. A jogger with a golden retriever. A couple walking hand in hand toward a coffee shop. Normal people doing normal things. It felt strange being out inthe open after yesterday's text and this morning's photo. Like she was exposed. Vulnerable.
"No one's following us," Ghost said, reading her mind. "I've been checking."
"How can you be sure?"
"Twelve years of doing this." He glanced at her. "Trust me."
She did. That was the strange part. She trusted him completely, without question, in a way she’d never trusted anyone before.
They parked in the Target lot, which was already starting to fill up with weekend shoppers. Ghost killed the engine but didn't move immediately. He turned to face her, his hand still on her leg.
"You ready?"
She nodded.
"Stay close to me. We go in, get what you need, and get out. Okay?"
"Okay."
He came around and opened her door before she could do it herself, then his hand found the small of her back as they walked toward the entrance, that protective touch that was becoming familiar. The automatic doors slid open and they were hit with ablast of air conditioning and the overwhelming brightness of fluorescent lights.
Ghost stayed close, his hand never leaving her back as they walked through the aisles. His eyes moved constantly, tracking people, exits, anything out of place. Even here, buying toiletries, he was operational.
Rachel grabbed basics first, a few shirts, one gray henley, one white V-neck. She found a pair of jean shorts, checking the price before dropping them in the cart.
Ghost looked at the single pair, then reached past her and grabbed two more.
"Logan, I only need one—"
"You need more than one pair of shorts baby." He dropped them in the cart like the discussion was over.
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. Pick your battles, she told herself.
They moved to the intimates section. Rachel stopped at the pull-out drawers, fingering through the individual pieces. Lace cheeky cuts in black and burgundy. Thongs in jewel tones. The underwear she actually wore, not the practical cotton multipacks.
She pulled out a black lace pair, checked the size, then flipped the tag. Eight dollars. Each. She did the mental math, three or fourpairs would be over thirty dollars just for underwear. She hesitated, looking at the delicate lace in her hand, then quietly slid it back into the drawer and walked toward the toiletries aisle.
She didn't see Ghost watching. Didn't see the way his eyes tracked to the drawer she'd been looking at, or how his mouth curved slightly when he saw the underwear she’d been considering.
She didn't see him circle back after she'd moved on. Didn't see him pull open that drawer and grab the black lace pair she'd put back. Or the burgundy one. Or the emerald green thong. Or the navy cheeky cut. He added two more for good measure, a deep plum and a black thong, before tucking all six pairs carefully under the shirts in the cart where she wouldn't notice.
