“Maybe,” Franklin agreed. “But I’m not into hurting animals, so I’m not psychopathic. And Curly likes the food in the blue tin. Not the red.”
Marlow leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cool metal of the doors.
“When and where?” he asked.
“I’ll text you the address.”
Chapter Eleven
HOT OR COLD?Which was better?
In Alaska right now, Cade would probably be hypothermic and halfway to frostbite inallhis extremities. That wasn’t pleasant.
On the other hand, neither was the parched, sticky ache in his throat and the hot pinprick itch of the sunburn that glowed under his existing tan… onallhis extremities.
What took longer? Death from exposure or sunstroke?
Cade would have to look that up if he got a chance. He kept his eye on the horizon and stalked across the hot, gritty sand in a straight line toward it. It had been hours so far, with a few brief stops by rocky outcroppings as he sheltered from the sun. He had to admire Franklin’s thoroughness. The corrupt bastard had taken the time to make sure that Cade woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere. He wasn’t the only one Franklin had given this one-way treatment to either. The chain and manacles were well-made, but they’d obviously been there for a while. The workmanship on the hook sunk into the bedrock had reminded Cade of the one they’d found on the Reserve.
Heavy enough to hold an angry wolf—and Cade had been angry, he had torn the ground around him up like a plow—but easy enough for a human to slip their foot out of.
Franklin wanted the bodies found. Missing people started searches. Corpses found changed out in the desert—that made it look accidental.
The problem with that, though, was that Cade had grown up in theass-endof nowhere. This wasn’t the first time he’d woken up with no idea of where the wolf had left him, and he was pretty sure that, at least here, he didn’t have to worry about bears.
So Cade wasn’t going to panic or get lost or fall off a cliff. He picked the most straightforward direction to stay true to—east, toward the sun—and started to walk. Eventually, he’d find some sign of civilization, or he’d die.
They were the only two choices.
He kept walking.
Overhead a vulture companionably followed along; black wings spread to catch the hot air as it rose. Cade glanced up at it occasionally when he needed motivation to keep walking.
“Eaten by animals” was what happened to a miserable teenager with a shit dad and a stepmother whose best wasn’t going to be enough. Not that he begrudged the bird a meal, but this was not how he planned to die. He had money and influence. People who owned a Lexus didn’t die in the desert, and he wasn’t going to be the exception that proved the rule.
He kept going, one foot in front of the other, until the hot, sandy rocks of the desert gave way to the flat, even hotter surface of a cracked backroad. Cade stopped and looked down at the potholed concrete, its road markings scraped and faded until they could barely be seen.
Then he looked up.
The vulture dipped a wing and turned away. It felt like a sign, even though there was probably just a dead coyote that would take less work somewhere nearby.
Cade stood on the road for a second and then started walking again.
One foot in front of the other.
“You fucking lost or what?” the kid at the register said. He leaned his elbows on the counter and pushed himself up and forward to give Cade a once-over from head to red, blistered feet. “And on the last day of the full moon! You’re going to have to live with that.”
Cade pulled the cap off a bottle of water and took a drink. It was a bad idea to drink too much when you were dehydrated. He knew that. The minute the water hit the back of his throat, though, his body decided it was a lie. He gulped down half the bottle before he could pull it away from his mouth. The rest he tipped over his head. It soaked his hair and dripped down onto his shoulders.
The shock of cold made his stomach cramp, and the water he’d just swallowed retched back up into his throat.
“You going to be sick?” the kid asked as he recoiled back to his side of the counter. “Don’t puke on the floor. There’s a toilet out back.”
“I’m not going to be sick,” Cade said grimly.
“You sure about that?”
No.
