“I have to run,” I utter as my body rebels.
“You need a plan. Blindly running into an observant nation when you have a two million-dollar price tag on your head is not a good strategy.”
“Two?”
“Yeah, your devoted husband doubled the reward this morning.”
Someone knocks at the door. I back away to the other end of the living area and shake my head.
“It’s Tony. I called him.”
She peeks through the privacy hole before opening the door. The big guy bustles into the apartment brandishing a big bag, which he dumps on the sofa. “I have clothing, wigs, extra medication from Derek, and a van. I couldn’t get you a new identity in this short time frame, but I don’t think that’s wise, anyway. Gideon will ferret out those resources and trace you faster. There’s enough food to last you a week inside the van, a mattress so you can rest, plus some other bits to help you survive. You need to fall off the grid for a while, let the media circus die down.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
He pulls out a phone from his back pocket and hands it to me. “Destroy your old one. This is a burner. In the contacts are the names of people we trust and their location. You call them any time of day or night, and they will offer you sanctuary.”
Louise folds her arms. “She can’t leave.”
Tony snaps his gaze to her “Don’t be shortsighted. They are already hot on her trail. It’s a matter ofwhennotifthey find her here.”
I move forward and wrap my arms around her. “Thank you foreverything, for showing me kindness and protecting me from my shadows. I will repay you one day.”
She huffs, stirring the hair on the top of my head. “Repay me by evading this fucker and getting your revenge.”
“I’ve found the best revenge is success. Karma is a bitch that sorts the rest out, and while she might take her sweet time, she never misses.”
“If you are running, I insist you take a weapon. Ever shot a gun, Honor?”
I shake my head. “They terrify me.”
“As they should. Which is why if you point one at ninety-nine percent of the population, they will stop coming at you.”
Let’s hope I never have to put that theory to the test.
CHAPTER 12
HONOR
JUNE 29th
Being old doesn’t make you sweet, just as being young doesn’t make you stupid.
Six months. That’s how long I’ve been running. I destroyed the phone Louise gave me after one week and never replaced it. Going off the grid meant no tech. No trace. No identity. Everyone leaves behind a footprint no matter how careful they are, so I had to make sure my trail was as light as could be and hope they missed it.
The first month was easy. I drove the van at night, parked during the day, and slept in the back. I stopped at random service stations to clean up and refuel. But my cash slowly eroded away, and I could only live off energy bars and soda for so long.
My first job at a bar lasted four days. The owner was an asshole and when he made a move on me, I fled and didn’t look back. My second job at an all-night diner lasted two weeks.Then Gideon upped the reward, and I had to disappear again. In six months, I’ve had ten different jobs, traveled through eighteen states, and perfected the art of being forgettable. When I wasn’t working, I wouldn’t speak to a soul, and it took a toll. Humans are social creatures. Some might be introverts, but they still seek human connection. Being hunted long term makes you jump at shadows and make rash decisions.
I scan the newspapers at service stations and pay attention to the TVs in diners and bars. My kidnapping no longer gains airtime as most media outlets assume the worst—that I am no longer breathing. Little do they know that’s the best possible outcome. If I’m dead, no one is looking for me. That’s the beauty and the horror of the media cycle. How fast one’s well-being becomes uninteresting when there’s no new information to report.
I imagine Gideon is furious. His anger is a pulse I can feel echoing in my chest across the thousands of miles between us, as if his psyche is linked to mine. Does that mean he can feel the flutter of my heartbeat like a terrified bird?
My head thumps onto the wall of the van as I scan the tiny metal can I’ve been living in. I’m down to my last hundred dollars, and I have two energy drinks left. I weigh less now than I ever did with Gideon. How ironic.
Every few weeks I treat myself to a night in a motel that rents rooms by the hour. That’s where I hand wash my clothing, but I’m always gone before daybreak. I examine the duffle bag. I have one pair of clean panties left.Shit.Time to get a job and take a risk.
I’m a hundred miles west of San Antonio, deep in cowboy country, in a little town with a population of nine hundred forty-one that professes to have the best barbeque ribs in the world. The cattle outnumber the people five to one.
