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“Target practice. They’re learning how to defend themselves with knives, and if they get their hands on one, a pistol.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“I should’ve told you that before we left.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” I agreed. “You better teach me when we get home.”
He looked at me and smiled. “I already had plans to.”
I let out a breath. “No sisters of mine will be victims.”
“Sisters, huh? No, no they won’t. And after I’m done teaching you, you’ll never feel like a victim again.”
We stopped for gas station barbecue. I took photos of the sign out front and made a note in my phone. “I want to remember everything,” I explained.
Duke merely smiled.
We got back on the road for several more hours, stopping when it was close to eleven. We stayed in a cheap motel right off the highway. It was clean and had a short notice vacancy, which was all we cared about.
I washed the makeup off my face and changed into one of Duke’s T-shirts that I found packed in the two duffel bags that were in the back seat of the truck.
Duke was asleep by the time I climbed into bed. I turned off the lamp and cuddled into his side, marveling at the fact that I was falling asleep next to my husband.
Husband.
Such a strange word.
Duke was more than my husband. He was my best friend. My protector. My savior.
I fell asleep with a smile on my face and woke up to Duke sliding into me from behind. We moved as one and I reached around to grasp his neck, wanting to meet his lips.
My release was quiet, but powerful, leaving me limp. Duke pressed a kiss to my shoulder and gathered me close, keeping us connected.
“The first morning we’re alone, and you don’t scream my name,” he murmured.
“Guess you’ll have to do better tomorrow morning,” I teased.
We showered and got back on the road. By eight o’clock that night, Duke was driving the truck up a mountain, not stopping until we reached a small cabin with an A-shaped roof and large windows to look out over the terrain.
He parked the truck and turned off the engine. “Let’s grab the bags and get inside.”
“This is incredible,” I said. “How did you find this place?”
“It belongs to Ghost,” he said.
“Ghost? Slash’s friend?”
Duke nodded. He grabbed the duffel bags from the back and shut the door. “Temperature is dropping. Let’s get inside.”
The cabin was cozy. It was all one room, with a wood burning stove in the corner of the living room and a ladder that went to a loft bed. There was a leather couch with a tartan wool blanket and an ample supply of wood for the time we were there.
“Very rustic,” I said. “Do I have to poop in the woods?”
“It’s got modern amenities,” Duke assured me. “A bathroom with a real shower and toilet. All the good stuff. You didn’t really think I was going to take you to a place on our honeymoon that had an outhouse, did you?”
“No.” I snorted in humor. “I never thought that.”
The refrigerator was well stocked and there was a bottle of scotch on a coffee table made from a giant slab of wood from an old tree. I grabbed the bottle and sat on the couch.
