“We can look at flights and leave…” he begins but she interrupts.
“Tonight, if there’s a flight. It’s open twenty-four hours and I need to see her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Bet. We can dip tonight. I’ll have my partner book us.”
“Or I can. I’m a travel agent,” she says. “I work remotely and my laptop is in my bag.” She steps toward her luggage and opens the compartment in the front. When she pulls her slick laptopand charging cord out, she glances back at him. “I’ll book our flights and hotel, if that’s cool with you. I just need your date of birth.”
“I’ll get you the info,” he says and her eyebrows peak.
“You don’t know your birthdate?” she asks, perplexed.
“I know mine but not the name I’m going to travel under,” he says with a smirk. “Give me a sec.”
While completing contracts, Akeem never uses his government. Nothing can be traced back to him, especially his proximity to the kills. Airline tickets, rental cars, Airbnbs, hotels, and even food deliveries are all arranged and paid for under temporary non-traceable IDs courtesy of Axton. As far as his contracts, Akeem Simmons doesn’t exist, which surprised him when he gave her his real first name and not Terrance, the name used to book this ranch house.
He heads to the bedroom to grab the license and credit card for Terrance Williams and she sets up at the small table in the kitchenette with her laptop and the things from Tanjaya’s apartment. She’s set and logged in when he returns. The moment he places the license on the table, the doorbell chimes.
“The food,” she utters and he nods before heading to the front door. While he gets the food, she picks up the Louisiana driver’s license. “Terrance Williams,” she mumbles, then huffs.Is Akeem even his real name?
To say she doesn’t know shit about this man is an understatement. Akeem, if that’s his real name, is a mystery to her but she has to trust him, at least for now. He kept his word and opened the house to her. It truly appears that if she wants to leave, she can. He won’t stop her and that’s the first reason she’s trying to believe him. The second is his willingness to find Tanjaya and the third is his desire to kill Marcelin. Based on just those medical records, he doesn’t deserve to breathe any air.In this instance, she’s glad her instincts about Akeem are right. He’s a killer and will give Marcelin the death he deserves.
When Akeem returns with the food and her coffee, she’s still holding the license. She drops it and joins him at the kitchen island. Before pulling the food containers from the bags, she washes her hands and he does the same.
“Did you find flights?” he asks as she places the clear plastic container filled with his pancakes in front of him.
“Yeah, two, but I haven’t booked yet. One leaves from Diamond Falls at four and we land in Jacksonville at six-thirty. The other is at nine out of Crescent Falls and we won’t get there until eleven-twenty. I haven’t had time to see which airport is the closest.”
“Diamond Falls,” he says before bowing his head to pray silently. She joins in. “Amen,” he says out loud. “To make the flight at four, we gotta get out of here in the next two hours. You cool with that?”
“Yeah, that’s enough time. I can be ready after we eat.”
“Bet. Then we have time to get your arm sling,” he says.
After sipping her still hot coffee, she asks, “And what about your guns?”
“I’m good,” is all he offers. Most people don’t know firearms are allowed on planes. He just has to unload them and lock them into his hardshell, TSA-approved container.
“Okay,” she says before taking a bite of her sandwich. With a tight chest, he studies her closely to make sure she doesn’t have a reaction like last night. When she doesn’t and takes another bite, his entire body relaxes.
“Do you have another pen?” he asks.
“Why? You need to write something?” she asks.
“Nah, not that. Your Epi?”
“Yeah. In my bag but I’m usually careful. I was a little distracted and hungry last night. I didn’t think about the burgerpatty, but I usually ask before I order,” she explains. He nods before shoveling his fork filled with pancakes and eggs into his mouth.
Their conversation dies after that and they eat in silence. It’s a strange but expected dynamic. They are still strangers, drawn together by a highly unusual and adversarial circumstance, now partners trying to navigate the new dynamic. The main issue is trust. It’s naturally minimal on both sides but each is consciously willing—and trying—to see if it builds. For him, it’s the eyes,her eyes.
Seemingly out of the blue, while placing the containers in the trash, he glances at her and says, “You two really have the exact same eyes.”
Dismissively, she responds, “We are identical.” He nods slowly but contemplatively and she steps back to the kitchenette. “Does Terrance have any points for hotels or rentals?” she asks with a smirk.
“Nah. Just book anything.”
“Two rooms, right?” she asks, confirming that she is no longer his captive under constant watch.
“Of course,” he says.
