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“Ben will lead the convoy. I will watch the tail.”
I took a calming breath as I started the engine and focused on thinking logically instead of emotionally. Panic did no good. If I listened to what it was whispering—to pull back, to retreat—I’d make matters worse for myself. And that was the last thing I wanted. Matters, as they stood, were bad enough.
Or were they? Had Molev been viewing me as his wife since we’d started sleeping together, or was he doing it to try to stake a claim on me? The answer to that would define his intentions.
I realized how I was thinking and mentally shook my head at myself. Molev hated when he ran into people who weren’t up front with their intentions. He preferred his method of just being straightforward. Or, if he had to hold something back, he was pretty honest about it.
Why would he change who he was now?
He wouldn’t. That meant he’d likely viewed me as a wife for a while.
Another jolt of panic and denial shot through me, and I admitted to myself that I had a real issue with being a wife. Why? Because taking on that role changed a person. So many societal expectations went with it. What if I didn’t want to be the primary cook or clean-up crew? What if I didn’t want to be the one responsible for doing laundry?
The convoy started forward.
In past relationships, whenever I’d started questioning the validity of today’s continued unspoken gender norms, I’d been the problem. Some men had tried making it sound like I was just being lazy. Some tried pulling the “Well, I make more money” card. As if a higher income entitled them to cast their “cherished” partner into a servant role. Because that was how I saw it. When two people were both working an equal number of hours outside the home, why would one be more responsible for maintaining the home than the other?
I realized my thoughts were spiraling with resentment and took another slow breath.
Now wasn’t the time. When we stopped for the night, I would talk to Molev. Until then, these thoughts were only a distraction I couldn’t afford. Relaxing my shoulders, I focused on scanning the homes I could see outside my window.
“I think I see a watcher,” the woman next to me said.
“Radio it,” I said. “We don’t want anything following.”
“I see it,” came Molev’s immediate reply to her message.
We made it through the fenced-in area and cleared the other side of town without any other sightings. Ben led us to the highway. Whenever he spotted a trap, he would run ahead and start clearing it while Molev stayed with the convoy. Having two fey and few infected in the area really helped us put some miles on, but I knew we couldn’t push through. Too many miles still separated us from Whiteman.
“We need to find a place to stop for the night,” I said over the radio.
Molev sprinted past us, leaving his position at the tail. A few minutes later, his voice came over the radio.
“There is a farm ahead. We will stop soon.”
The place they’d found was off the highway by a few miles. Enough that no one would see the lights on or hear us. We circled the vehicles around the property and waited for Molev and Ben to clear the house and the barn. Once they said it was clear, the second team went in to double-check. More or less as human bait to draw out any that might have hidden from the fey.
While everyone unloaded and stood in line for the bathroom, Katie asked Roni and me to stand guard so she could use the side of the barn.
“I’ll pee my pants if I have to wait in that line,” she said, motioning us to turn around.
Roni smirked and rolled her eyes. “Stop guzzling water while we’re traveling. Wait until we stop.”
“I wasn’t drinking,” Katie said just before she started relieving herself with a sigh.
Ben chose that moment to run around the side of the barn. Roni and I immediately stepped together to shield Katie. She made a panicked sound behind us.
“Could you turn around for a second, Ben?” I asked. “Katie would rather you not see this.”
He immediately pivoted.
“I wasn’t trying to look at your pussy, Katie,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you are safe.”
“You saw?” she screeched.
“It’s not okay to look without permission, Ben,” Roni said as Katie started mumbling to herself. “To even things up, you should probably pull down your pants and let us see your goods.”
“Okay,” he said at the same time I said, “No, don’t.”
