~ 12 ~
PEYTON
We didn’t stop. Not even once the sky started to lighten.
Colson drove like he was more machine, than man. But damn, was he a man, too. Those broad shoulders guided hands that were steady on the wheel, connected by deliciously thick arms all corded with muscle. I felt warmly reassured, watching him scan the windows and mirrors every few seconds. He did it with a ruthless efficiency and military focus that allowed me to relax into my seat.
Beside him, Ripley rode shotgun. Hour by hour I watched the stubble grow on that square jaw, as he gazed stoically out the window. His eyes were sharp, his big hands relaxed but ready for whatever came next. I started to feel a little bad about nailing him in the family jewels, but reminded myself that I had little choice at the time.
Then there was Theo, sitting quietly alongside me. We were close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, especially when, every so often, his thigh would brush against mine. Constantly bent over his keyboard, there was a silentstrength to him that I’d always admired. The man who’d sipped wine and lost terribly at backgammon to me had an inner confidence that was more intellectual than physical. Even though, physically, he was quite a specimen as well.
My head still ached, but it no longer swam with the dizziness I’d felt before. I couldn’t complain, though. I was still here. I was still alive.
All thanks to them.
The sun was just coming up when we pulled into the rest stop. Colson killed the engine, leaving us sitting there in silence for the first time since the chaos of our escape.
“Tracker still dead?”
Theo confirmed the good news with a nod. “I severed the power source. It’s useless now.”
Ripley got out and gassed us up, while Colson kept watch. In the meantime, Theo rummaged around in the Suburban’s rear hatch. He returned to the back seat with a blanket, then sat down and draped it over us.
“Thanks,” I smiled, grateful for the addition. With the rear window shot out, things got cold quickly.
“Don’t mention it,” Theo smiled back. He pointed to the bump on my head. “Afterthat, it’s the least we can do.”
I pulled the blanket up around me, just as the others returned. For a moment, we all stared at each other.
“Donovan tried to kill me,” I murmured.
“Yes,” agreed Colson. “He did.”
“On my wedding day.”
Ripley chuckled gruffly. “Really? That’s your big take away, here?”
“No, I mean, he wanted me gone right away. No talking. No convincing. Just… dead.”
Colson nodded solemnly. “I believe the word he used was ‘eliminated.’”
“Yes, butwhy?”
Their eyes shifted to Theo this time. So did mine.
He closed the keyboard and pulled out the locket.
“See this?” he asked, letting it dangle. “It’s way more than just a tracker. It’s a military-grade micro-drive, specific to Donovan Prescott.” He swung his gaze my way. “Every dirty little secret your fiancé ever wanted to hide is right here, encrypted, within this tiny silver thing.”
“Ex-fiancé,” I corrected him. “And what kind of secrets?”
“Passkeys and decryption information for non-laundered crypto, and off-country bank accounts,” Theo began. “Shell corporation structures. Shadow conglomerates. Not to mention a shit-ton of evidence on his worst enemies, and closest friends.”
“So… blackmail.”
“Yes. Everyone’s dirty laundry,” Theo confirmed. “But also, Donovan’s own. Enough to destroy him ten times over.”
“And I almost smashed it.”
