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12
LIAM
THE ROAD FEELS long before us, and I have no doubt I’ll need to hijack a different car before we make it too far. Finding out we were already located and not knowing who found us puts an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I can’t let us be compromised again.
Whoever was there, I’ll find them eventually, and they won’t be pleased when I do.
Margaret becoming vulnerable like she was when I purposefully left her behind to keep her out of danger scares the shit out of me. Hearing her tell me she had to shoot someone makes me glad we took the time to work on shooting before we got to this point. What if we hadn’t?
Don’t think about it.
She took care of herself when she had no prior experience. Being able to think on your feet when you’re in a situation like that is imperative.
The other issue I’m dealing with is Ricardo, or the lack thereof. When I showed up to the meeting, a man I hadn’t met before was there. He introduced himself as Viktor, and I knew of him already because I’d seen him act as the right hand of their top honcho, Anton, who was here on a travel visa, running this entire thing. We had a lot on him, but we wanted enough to put him away for good. That came to an abrupt end when they moved their location at the last minute, which took another six months for me to uncover.
Viktor knew I wasn’t who I said I was. He didn’t know Liam, but he knew Dan wasn’t who I said he was. Fortunately, he still didn’t know who I worked for, which gave me a little power, but since he had even an inkling, it meant I was going to have to be stealth about getting them shut down.
I sent a nice little message to Anton in the form of a few of Viktor’s missing fingers. All they needed to know was that I was dangerous, that I wasn’t afraid to get dirty and do what needed to be done.
That said, the FBI hunting me down wasn’t going to help things. According to them, I was a huge risk now, and they don’t take risks lightly.
I lost contact when I moved from one location to the next, but the trouble is, G3 is moving again. I recognize the signs this time around. They’re skittish, worried, rushing from place to place, and multiple trucks showed up a couple of weeks ago, meaning they need to transport something big. I’m not sure where they’re headed yet, but I can get in touch with someone who might know.
Using contacts in Las Vegas, where they are headed, is a risk, but it is necessary. Contacts I had a year ago could have changed positions by now. It’s only a matter of time before everyone I know is going to be on a different side of the fight.
That’s the nature of this business.
The only thing I know for sure is that no matter how this plays out, my main objective has shifted. It isn’t just about taking out a hated drug cartel, but also protecting the feisty woman in the seat next to me.
Because she didn’t deserve any of this.
It’s still fairly early in the day when I wake Margaret up to move cars. She doesn’t say anything as I hotwire another vehicle, and I wonder if there is an imaginary board in her head where she tallies the strikes against me. It isn’t in my nature to care what others think, but even as far gone as I must be in her eyes after everything she’s heard and seen, I want to be someone she can respect and trust.
I doubt any of that will ever happen, because when it is life or death, these are the things I have to do in order for us to live through this.
We arrive at another cash motel; it’s the only type of place we can go without leaving a trace. I walk in ahead of Margaret, telling her to wait outside while I check out the room, clearing all the spots anyone could hide. Can’t be too careful when you’re on the run.
“Whew, this is an upgrade. Look.” I turn to see that Margaret has come in, and I smirk at her sarcasm. “A top and a bottom sheet. This”—she gives me a look full of sass—“is luxury.” I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, and she gives me her first smile in a while.
That’s one thing that’s been unfortunately lacking since everything happened. Our first date was full of her laughter and smiles, and it was the main reason I found her so attractive.
I sit on the bed, the exhaustion washing over me. I’ve been awake for over forty-eight hours, and it is catching up to me. Some days are like this, but with the added stress over the last couple days, I am pretty spent.
“Uh oh,” Margaret mutters. Following her gaze, I see that the patch job we did on my side has started leaking and blood is seeping through onto my white shirt.
“Oh.” I pull my shirt over my head. Before I can get up to get my bag that holds extra bandages and a first aid kit, Margaret is back with everything and starts pulling off the old bandage. “You don’t have to, Mo. I know it freaks you out.”
“It’s hard for you. I don’t mind.” I could stop her. I could make the point that she doesn’t handle blood well, that she doesn’t need to do this because it’s not a big deal, but I don’t. I don’t because having her help me gives me a strange type of comfort. Feeling her hands on me soothes a burn that hasn’t been cooled since the first time I saw her.
I don’t say anything as she works. At times when I should be wincing, I don’t move. This kind of thing doesn’t bother me anymore. I watch as she works diligently around the stitches, cleaning up blood that’s stuck to my skin and then carefully placing a new bandage over the wound. I sit and admire her new short hair, which doesn’t do a damn thing to hurt her looks. If anything, it makes me want put my hands through it and kiss her.
It’s not the first time I’ve wanted to break the unspoken rule and give her a kiss she’d remember forever, smash my lips to hers and claim her as my own.
She puts the last piece of tape on my skin and sits back on her heels. She’s at a good height to bring to life a dream I had after our first date.
Our only date.
She realizes I’m watching her and pauses her movements. Tension fills the air, and I allow my hand to move through her hair. Her eyes flutter closed and I watch as her lips part slightly, all from me putting my hand in her hair. I breathe out a sigh, one of comfort and relief that we’ve gotten this far, one of worry that I won’t be able to protect her. It scares the shit out of me to have her in so much danger.
