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Ethan jerked open the passenger side door and shoved me into the seat.
“Are you carrying anything you got from your house this morning?” he asked.
“Huh?” I frowned at him, too thick and muddled to follow his train of thought.
“Shoes? A coat? A purse, a belt, anything? They found you with a trace, Kat. They went into your house, right after the elevator incident. That’s why the hair you put on your closet handle was disturbed. That wasn’t me. That was Nicole’s team.”
I gaped at him. “No shit. They broke into my house and tagged me that very first day? Damn, those people function like freaking clockwork.”
“So?” he insisted. “Think, Kat! What did you collect at your house?”
“Let me see,” I said, racking my brains. “My go-bag, which is still in the bus. My passport and my money, inside pocket of this jacket, but this is the jacket I had the day I met you. I’ve always had it with me, so Nicole’s people have never touched it. I did put on these shoes this morning, though.” I glanced down at my mud-slimed, thorn-torn expensive running shoes, the ones I’d elected to wear on the bus, because they were too expensive to leave, but too bulky to pack.
Ethan kneeled in front of me, prying the muddy laces loose. He peeled off my shoes, then pulled out a knife, and attacked my shoe with it, prying off the sole.
He pulled out the tiny chip, the dangling antennae that had been somehow inserted into it. “You are deep in my shit now, whether you wanted to escape or not,” he said. “There’s no running away. They’ve zeroed in on you now. I’m sorry about that.”
I leaned forward, gripping his shoulder. “I wasn’t running away from your problems, Ethan. I swear. I was just trying not to pile mine on top of yours!”
“Stop trying!” he said savagely. “It’s too late! You hurt me when you do that!”
I stared at him, my mouth trembling. He reached over, gripping my hand that was clutching his shoulder. Trapping it there. His hand was warm. Bloody and scratched from all the thorns, like my hands.
“I need you,” he said, his voice intense. “Get it through your head. I’m better with you. Stronger. Safer. You’re tough and smart as hell, and I want you at my side, helping me manage this clusterfuck so we can all survive. I don’t want to do this without you, Kat. Be with me. Stay with me. I’m not asking you to be my concubine, I’m not asking you to be my bed toy. I’m asking you to be my partner.”
I pulled my hand free. “I understand, but could we leave before Nicole comes back and shoots us both in the face? We can save the tender moment for later, okay?”
“Fine,” he said gruffly, turning to shove my muddy shoes into the big garbage bin.
I pulled my bare, damp feet into the car and shut the door. Being barefoot made me feel vulnerable, but going out there to retrieve my bag from the bus would be worse.
Ethan floored the car, which leaped forward toward the freeway entrance. “Keep your eyes peeled for a black Mercedes SUV,” he said. “That’s what the dead guy in the woods was driving, and I’m assuming they came together.”
I craned my neck around, scanning the highway as far ahead and as far behind as I could see. “I’m not seeing one,” I said. “But who knows. She might have come in a different vehicle. Something about crushing a guy’s jaw and then shooting him through the eye really does not say ‘teamwork’ to me.”
“Agreed, “Ethan said. “But Nicole is freaky. A stone-cold psychopath and a bitchy little girl, at the same time. This guy must have challenged her or triggered her, and she took this opportunity to put him down. Maybe she thought she could pin it on one of us. If she answers to higher authority, that is. Which I’m guessing she does.”
“Maybe she made the calculation that she couldn’t move him herself without attracting attention, and she would have lost her advantage,” I offered. “He was huge. Everyone would have noticed her dragging him to the car. She had to resolve the problem fast, since you couldn’t be allowed to question him, right? This might have been the reasoned, practical thing to do. From a psychopath’s point of view, anyway.”
Ethan shook his head. “I’m guessing the shattered jaw says she hated his guts. She went to some extra trouble to make him suffer. While he was still alive.”
I shook my head. “Yes, that too. The whole thing is extremely weird.”
“Yeah, Kat? Which part? The part where you ditched the bodyguards I assigned to you and ran off to certain death? Is that the part you were referring to?”
“Oh, come on now,” I soothed. “Let’s not get hung up on that, okay? I know you’re pissed, but I’m very sorry. I should have listened to you. I admit it. Satisfied?”
“No,” he said curtly. “You scared the living shit out of me.”
“Honestly, me, too,” I admitted. “That woman is terrifying. She fights like a demon. She’s better than me, and that’s really saying something. And she looks all sweet and normal, too. I’m a suspicious type, but she really got the jump on me.”
“She let us go too easy,” he said darkly.
I shifted in my seat, wincing as I looked down at myself. Everything hurts. I was slimed with mud, scratched to ribbons from the brambles, scraped, bruised, strained, and bumped from that bathroom fight. I felt like hammered shit. “You call that easy?”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “She could have killed us many times over, if she wanted to. I can understand why she might hesitate to shoot me. She wants SmokeScreen, and she probably figures I’m the only one who can give her that. But why not shoot you?”
“Maybe to use me against you? Maybe she sees me as your weak point?”
