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JACKSON
Driving continues while the girls sleep. They’ve both coughed occasionally, but never with enough ferocity that warranted hospitalisation. I’m more deserving of that, but I’m not concerned with myself. As proved by the fucking idiotic thing I just did back there to my building and life.
We passed the Welsh border about an hour ago, and now I’m standing out back of a small service station having refuelled and grabbed some coffees. I’ve got no way forward that I can think of and no way of ever getting Naja and Miri home.
Rolling the tension out of my shoulder, I sigh. Dragon meant every second of that fight. I doubt I would have won it or got out with my life intact if Naja hadn’t come to the rescue. He saw me trying to grab money bags from the floor while he was heaving Abel’s body out. Turned fucking savage on me. I suppose he assumed if I wasn’t helping him save Abel, I was against them all. I was.
Trudging back to the car with the coffees, I get lost in my own head. At least Heckle said he’d get word to me about Jamie when he could, but he was right when we talked – any contact with her will just put her in more danger. He said he’d get her out of there once she was fit enough to travel. Let’s hope she makes it through.
Gently shaking Naja, I smile when she opens her eyes and pass her a coffee.
“Where are we?” she mumbles, looking out of the window.
“Wales somewhere.”
I pass her the other one for Miri, but she climbs out of the car. “Let her sleep," she says, getting in the front.
The journey carries on in silence for a while. Fine by me. I’m still thinking and trying to work out where I’m driving to. None of us have passports on us, and I can’t get the thought of Poe out of my head. Pretty sure it was his car coming down the road when we left. I was groggy, though. Might not have been. But if it was, he’ll already be trying to work out where I’ve gone. I don’t even know if Abel and Dragon made it out of there alive. One thing's for sure, though, Elias didn’t. Once Poe searches the wreckage of the building and maybe finds three dead Cortez brothers with no auction girls or Priory staff alongside them, all hell will be let loose to find the one who might have caused the situation.
A low rising sun starts climbing, and eventually, I see something that looks like an old holiday complex. We pull in, and I grab some cash out of one of the bags in the boot. Doesn’t take long for us to get a cabin. Both girls shower and clean up while I wait for one of the workers to bring us some breakfast things. He comes after a while and knocks on the door, leaving before I get to it. I’m still on edge that someone’s managed to follow us, so I peer to check the surrounding area. Nothing. No one.
“Bathroom’s free,” Naja says, as I walk back into the cabin. “Miri’s gone to one of the bedrooms to sleep some more.” She looks me over, wrings her hands together in front of her. I don’t even know what to say at the moment. We’re just here. In fuck knows where. With, maybe, half a million in the boot of my car and fuck all in the way of a plan. “Why don’t you go and shower. I’ll make some food. Unless you want to sleep?”
“Food sounds good.”
By the time I get out of the shower, Naja’s setting up a table with food and orange juice. Wet hair still. Long legs poking out from under that old jumper she's wearing. I probably shouldn’t be thinking about fucking her considering the screw up we’re in the middle of, but I did do this for her, or us, or maybe just to prove I could. Either way, my dick is wide awake even if I’m not.
“Sit. Eat,” she says, waving me to the chair.
I do, watching as she sits quietly and nibbles on food.
“Thank you,” she says after a while. “That doesn’t seem enough, but I’m not sure what else to say.” She fingers a bread roll, as she looks out at the view of trees. “I don’t know how to thank the man who just risked everything for us.” I keep chewing bacon, still unsure what I want to say to her. “Did you really just blow up that building to get us out?” I nod. “It was yours, the building?” I nod again.
She whistles, a long, low sound that seems to say everything that needs to be said about the events of last night.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
Her head whips around to look at me rather than the view. “Me? I thought … Well, you said that you weren’t letting me go when you’d … It doesn’t matter if not, though. Miri and I can go and find somewhere else and–”
“Do you want to stay with me, Naja?” Her mouth opens. “Think long and fucking hard about the answer. Those brothers, alive or not, will be coming for me. I’m going to be on the run and hiding for fuck knows how long. No one screws around with the likes of Cortez. I just did. I'm a dead man in reality unless I can outwit them or find some help.” She frowns and looks at my bare chest. Sensible, even if her contemplating her options does fill me with contempt. “You can both leave and make your own choices if you want to. I won’t stop you, but if you stay, you’ll do everything I say from now on. It’s the only way I’ll keep us safe.”
She doesn’t say anything in response, and a long, slow breath blows out of my lips. Jackson Reed – on the fucking run. If I thought I could muster enough men, or power, or retaliation, I’d show Cortez some more about what pissing on me does for their wellbeing, but I can’t. Surprising them is one thing; forming a fucking battle cry is another entirely.
“If I stay, could Miri leave?” she asks quietly. “Can you find a way to get Miri home?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know, Naja. I’m thinking on my feet and trying to find a way forward. There isn’t much that I can see at the moment. I need backing, and I’ve just disbanded my team to get them away from this shitstorm I’ve created.”
All the names of my kind of colleagues run through my head. Half of them are probably dead in my building because I blew the place up with them inside it. And the rest of them aren't stupid enough to take on Cortez anyway. About the only thing I’ve got left is Landon Broderick – a fucking lawyer – and his connection to the Canes. Might be useful.
But a fucking long shot.
A hand touches my shoulder, bringing me back to the moment we’re in.
“And what about us, what are we?” she asks.
“What?”
“Doing what you did is amazing, Jackson, but are we … something? You’re not like other men I’ve known, and if I have to make a choice, I need to know it’s the right one.”
