The cashier gave me an odd look when he rang up the things I had gotten for Amelia, but I just cracked a smile.
“My girl likes getting things from all the places we stop on road trips,” I said with a sheepish, lovestruck smile.
The man’s weathered expression shifted to wistfulness. “My wife collects mugs.” He chuckled. “I had to build a whole new cabinet just to hold all of ’em. Been married fifty-six years now.”
I took my change and grabbed the haul. “Hell of an achievement. Have a good one.”
I studied the truck cab as I walked back to fill up the tank. From a distance, it looked empty. But as I drew closer, I spotted Amelia curled up in the passenger’s seat like a cat.
She hadn’t run.
I shoved the gas pump into the tank to start filling up before I opened the door and dropped the haul into the front seat. Surviving on protein bars and energy drinks wasn’t pleasant, but I had certainly been in worse situations.
My body hummed with the clash of adrenaline and fatigue. I glanced at the old-school watch on my wrist. It was something that had long been ingrained in me. Relying on a phone that could be traced just for the time was shortsighted. The diver’s watch that I had owned for decades was as reliable as the sun.
“Amelia,” I said as I cleared the seat and tossed the snacks and drinks into the backpack.
“Huh? We’re leaving?” she mumbled. “That was fast.”
I pushed the folded clothes toward her. “Got you a present.”
That piqued her attention.
She sat up, rubbed her eyes, then took the clothes from me and set them in her lap. The foam flip-flops were first. She smiled softly as she dropped them onto the floorboard and wiggled them on her feet.
“We’ll find something more substantial once we get settled, but they’ll do for now.”
Amelia picked up the sweatshirt and studied the front. “The Honey Hollow Fighting Bees? I’m repping a high school I didn’t go to or teach at?”
I yanked the pump out of the tank when it cut off and set it back in the cradle. “Beggars can’t be choosers, little fox.”
She studied the matching sweatpants, then set them all in her lap. “Thank you,” Amelia said softly as I hopped back into the truck and shut the door.
“I need eight minutes,” I said as I settled into the corner between the driver’s seat and the door and closed my eyes. “Please don’t make me run.”
“Fine. Don’t peek and I won’t make you run.”
I peeked, only to find Amelia wiggling the sweatpants up and under her dress. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“That doesn’t give you permission to look,” she said as she slid the sweatshirt on over her dress, pulled her arms into the sleeves, and worked her dress off her hips and legs while staying fully covered.
“Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes and immediately drifted into a power nap.
Exactly eight minutes later, I opened my eyes, sat up, and buckled my seatbelt. I didn’t even need to look at my watch to know how long it had been. Eight-minute power naps, immediately followed by caffeine, kept me going for longer than a person should.
“How much longer?” Amelia asked.
I cracked open the energy drink and took a long sip, needing as much to hit my system at once as possible. “A few hours is my guess. Might be longer depending on the condition of the trails when we get there.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry—trails?”
“We’re not staying at a Best Western off the highway. We’re going to one of the most remote parts of the Appalachian Mountains. Safe houses are safe because they’re discreet.”
“I don’t do the outdoors.”
“Good,” I replied. “Stay inside and stay alive.”
As much as I could have used a relaxing mountain vacation, this wasn’t that. Not by a long shot.
