Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
He nods. “Tonight at midnight. Motel in Klamath Falls. You taking her?”
Tonight. Fuck no. Ah, fuck no. I stare at him frozen, because I can’t fucking do it. I can’t let her go.
Then she looks up at me, those emerald eyes filled with hopeful tears. “Will you? I’d rather go with you.”
“All right.” Because I’ll give her anything she needs. I take her hand, lead her to my bike. “Load up behind me. We’ll head back to the cabin and get you packed up.”
She laughs. “I don’t have anything.”
Yeah. Me, either.
28
Stone
Right now, some asshole out there is probably saying to someone else, “Be careful what you wish for.” They maybe ought to have said it to me. Because just a little while ago, I was wishing that I’d let my girl touch me more.
Now her arms have been wrapped tight around me for two hours, but only because I’m taking her on the ride that’ll end with me never touching her again. Never seeing her again.
Every mile, I think of heading in another direction. Taking her with me. Then I remember her happy tears, her relief. And I keep going straight.
The motel’s about as nothing as nothing gets. Creek’s in the room at the end of the building, bottom floor. I don’t park right in front but a little ways down the lot. Like some pathetic high school fucker hoping to get a last kiss from a date, so he makes sure there’s a bit of a walk between his ride and her front door.
She unwinds her arms from around me. And that’s it. Got what I wished for. Won’t be getting more.
She’s the first off the bike, standing beside it while she pulls off her helmet. And Christ, she’s so fucking pretty. It’s a cold night, so we’re both dressed for the ride, thermals and all. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s got brown hair now, because that red is so damn noticeable. Her teeth are pinching into a bottom lip that’s almost smiling…but those emerald eyes aren’t smiling at all.
Her gaze searches my face. “Thank you again.”
Fucking killing me. “Don’t thank me yet.”
I haul my ass off of the bike and unstrap her pack. A few changes of clothes are in there, some girly stuff for her hair and face. Aside from the new riding gear she’s wearing, she’s got nothing else.
She begins shaking her head when I pull a thick fold of cash out of my coat. “That’s really not—”
“It’s real fucking necessary. You got ID on you? Bank cards?” I shove the cash into her pack along with an untraceable burner phone. “You got any options if shit goes south?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Yeah, you do. This cash, and me. You need any goddamn thing, you get in touch. You hear me?”
Her eyes are glittering when she nods. “I’ll pay you b—”
“Don’t. I don’t want a fucking thing from you.”
That was too harsh. But I can barely fucking breathe. And it just gets worse when she nods again, then takes the pack and holds it against her chest, her arms wrapped around it like she was holding onto me a few minutes ago.
“Okay.” She looks past me, her chin wobbling before she firms it. “I know you just want to get this over with, and I can probably handle it from—”
“Who said I want to get this over with?”
“You did.” Her voice is thick. “Because I’m just a girl you met in a bar. So you don’t have to—”
“Hold up right there.” Fucking hell. I’m not letting her go thinking that. I grab the pack, use it to drag her closer. “That entire conversation you heard wasn’t what it sounded like. We weren’t looking to kill you. And that shit I said at the end was just me trying to convince myself that you leaving wouldn’t mean a damn thing. That it’d be easy to let you go. But it ain’t easy, girl. It ain’t easy at all.”
That smile finally reaches her eyes, though her lips are trembling now. “Do you still intend to go after Papa?”
“Yeah, I do.” Because she won’t be safe until he’s dead.
“Or they’ll use me as a witness to put him away.”
And to catch him. “They’ll try.”
“Then maybe…” She gives an uncertain, hopeful little shrug. “Maybe when this is all over with—whether he’s in jail or whether you get him—we can meet up again. And compare notes about the Papa hunt.”
That shit Anna said about letting something go and it coming back goes flying through my head, dropping a bomb in my chest.
“That ain’t how it works, angel,” I tell her hoarsely. “They’ll give you a new name, a new life, maybe even a new face. Then they’ll tell you real clear to never get in touch with anyone from before. Because that’s always where witness protection falls apart.”