And then it was just Thomas and me. I couldn't have him doeverything. I had to learn how to disguise myself without looking like I'm wearing one, how to avoid showing my face to cameras, and how to shop like a normal person while staying incognito.
"I feel like that silence said a lot," Brys says.
"I'm not judging, I promise,” I tell her. "I get it, believe me."
We leave the nameless town behind, and Brys alternates between staring out her window and giving me curious looks.
"It's tempting to think this is just a road trip," Brys says, eventually.
"It is," I agree. "Until we stop paying attention and wake up with guns in our faces."
"Assuming we wake up at all."
"Exactly." I reach over and pat her thigh. "That's not going to happen."
"You can't promise that," she says.
"No, I can't. All I can promise is that I'll do anything and everything in my power to keep you safe and return you to your life as soon as possible. And I really am sorry I got you involved in this."
"I suppose that's as much as anyone could ask for, under the circumstances." A glance at me. "I do appreciate the apology, though."
"You should. I do not dole them out easily or often."
"Shocker."
I manage another hour behind the wheel before my eyes start to burn and feel heavy, bathed in grit. "I think I need to take a break," I say, eventually. "I've been up for forty-eight hours at this point."
Brys looks at me with concern. "My god, Jakob. It's not safe to drive in that state."
I roll my eyes at her. "I'm taking a break now because I am beginning to feel the need to rest."
She nods while shrugging. "I suppose that's valid." A pause, a curious glance at me. "Do you have more cash stashed somewhere? Because I do watch enough TV to know we can't use cards."
I grin at her. "Unless you have a card linked to a bank account owned by a Gordian knot of LLCs, subsidiaries, and shell corporations, a thousand forensic accountants can’t trace that back to me in a thousand years.”
Instead of commenting on my financial resources, she tilts her head and gives me a strange look. "You really oughta do that more."
"Do what?" I ask, frowning in confusion.
"Smile like that. You're a damnably attractive man, Jakob, but you're so serious all the time. You're super hot when you smile."
"A man who worked in one of my offices was fired for making a comment like that about a female colleague," I point out.
Brys looks at me with a straight face for a long moment before bursting into laughter. "Oh god, oh wow. That's rich, buddy."
"I fail to see the humor," I say.
She snorts. "I'm sure you do."
"Elaborate, will you?"
"You, a man, are telling me, a woman, about sexual harassment in the workplace? I'm the CEO of a major company, Jakob. Yes, my father founded the company, but I worked my way up on my own merits. I started in the proverbial mailroom. I was an unpaid intern to a mid-level manager, working eighty hours a week, and I recognize my privilege in that I wasfinancially cared for by my parents in terms of living expenses while I was an unpaid intern, and I recognize that most people aren't so lucky. Which is why one of the first things I did as CEO was to abolish unpaid internships across the company. All interns are paid a fair wage. Not a CEO salary, obviously, but they are paid a fair wage for their work. Unpaid internships, in my opinion, are a toxic system that should be illegal. If you perform a job, you deserve financial recompense, even if it's part of an educational process. You're still doing work that the company is profiting off of."
I hold up a hand as I take an exit and head toward the Best Western sign. "Hey, you don't have to convince me. I never utilized unpaid interns. I am the farthest thing from a saint, but I do believe work deserves fair compensation."
We reach the hotel, and I secure us a room under the false ID connected to my card—despite my claims to Brys, using the card is still a risk; Pugli is not an enemy to underestimate.
I go back out to the car and inspect the trunk out of curiosity—there's a blanket in there, along with some other emergency supplies. I take the blanket, wrap the assault rifle in it, and load myself up with some of the drinks, snacks, and the bag of clothes, so the suspiciously shaped bundle isn’t quite so conspicuous.
