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“We ain’t lookin’,” Jeffco says.
Rowan turns to him and says, “Good. ‘Cause if you were, I’d have to break that jaw of yours.”
He’s mad. For good reason, too. But he’s still trying.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
He turns to me after and mutters, “Go ahead. They’re not going to look at you. I’ll make sure of that.”
I slip out of my dress, trying to cover my breasts as much as possible. For the first time, Rowan doesn’t check me out.
Why do we have to be doing this right now? Why can’t I just be back home, with him over top of me, thrusting his cock inside of me?
Pennsylvania would be nice with him in it.
I pull up the jeans, and they surprisingly fit pretty well on me. Inside the bag is a tight shirt I put on, and I’m feeling pretty okay about this.
“I liked you better in the dress,” Jeffco says.
Rowan slaps him in the face and grabs his cheek. “Treat my girl with respect,” he says.
There it is. My girl. I guess that’s my fault for saying that the other night. I like to jump full force into my emotions, and it gets me into trouble.
We drive until night hits, finally pulling over near a big desert valley. I never knew there was a network of backroads in the desert, but I know now.
They’ve created a whole system out here. Rowan and Iago know it fairly well.
“To our right should be an area with a well. We can camp out here for the night,” he says.
We get out of the car and grab our things. I’ve never been camping out in the desert before. I’m sure it’ll be a night to remember.
I close my eyes and feel the cold air against my face. For a second, I actually feel myself smile. When I block out everything else, things feel right. Under the stars, everything feels a bit more real.
Jeffco trips over a small boulder. “Can’t see a damn thing,” he says.
He’s right. It’s pitch black out here, blacker than any night in any city or town. Out here, you have to rely on your other senses.
Rowan pitches a tent in a corner spot near some bigger rocks. The guys take one look at us and laugh, throwing their tent up in an opposite spot.
It’s not as funny as it should be.
“What the hell do you think we’re going to do out here?” Rowan calls out.
“I know what you’re going to do out here,” Jeffco snorts. “Don’t play no games.”
Their jokes only makes things more awkward. In fact, it fucking sucks.
I head through the tent opening, throwing my pillow inside. “Ugh,” I groan, laying down. “It’s been a long week.”
Rowan jumps in, throwing his bag behind him, using it as a pillow. “It’s almost over.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
“I can feel it,” he says. “If we get the Hell Squadron behind us, there won’t be any stopping us. It’ll be a fucking coup.”
“And what if they don’t? Does that mean we came out here for nothing?” I ask, feeling nervous about the whole situation.
He sighs and looks down. “Then, we’ll have to reassess. If that happens, we might just have to fight and see who comes out ahead,” he says.
