Chapter Thirteen

Dane ate everything on his plate as Lena picked at her silly salad. Everyone knew you ate hearty during a crisis because you didn’t know when you’d get the chance to eat again. She obviously wasn’t trained for this kind of thing.

His comment about him being as good as dead had made her face go pale with fear. No doubt she’d finally realized she was just as expendable as Dane was.

Nourishment had fueled his brain, and he was thinking through several plans. Unfortunately, the scenarios he came up with also came complete with a deadly ending if the plan went wrong. He already knew he would be too cautious to actually follow through on any of them. No way would he risk Tobey.

He wasn’t going to be able to do this alone. He needed someone on the outside to call the shots. He needed his team.

But how would he get word to them without Lena knowing? He didn’t have his phone. They’d kept it, along with his wallet and keys. He should have asked to borrow someone’s phone in the restroom. But he’d been too furious to think of it at the time. Talk about being an idiot.

He needed to get Lena to trust him, but he’d already lashed out. Badly. He should have played it differently. Now he’d have to backpedal. After calling someone a soulless bitch and telling them you wanted to kill them with your bare hands, it would be a little difficult to change tactics at this point. Not to mention impossible. He wasn’t that good of an actor.

As she paid for the meal with Viktor’s card, he stood and waited for her to walk out of the restaurant first. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a lady, he could still be civilized.

They were back on the highway heading south, and he hadn’t come up with any way to convince her to jump ship to help him. What would it take? Money? He had some, but not as much as Kulakov.

The afternoon came and went in silence. The sun went down and it began to rain. She kept her eyes on the road, her fingers clenched around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white.

Maybe offering to drive would endear him to her. But surely, she wouldn’t let him drive. She would lose all the control if he were allowed behind the wheel. Except for the fact that he didn’t know when she was supposed to call Viktor next.

He debated for another hour whether it was worth it to ask her for anything. Pride kept his mouth stubbornly closed. He didn’t want to give her even the smallest inkling of power over him.

At eleven-thirty she pulled off the highway. “We need gas. And food. And I— I need a break, okay? I’m so exhausted, I’m worried I’ll fall asleep and kill us.”

It was the first time she’d snapped at him, despite the way he’d treated her.

He nodded and swallowed down the impulse to feel guilty. She didn’t deserve to be treated with respect. She was a monster. A criminal. But he needed her.

“Damn it,” he muttered and got out of the car to go pump the gas. His mother—God rest her soul—would be repulsed by his terrible manners. If he did end up in heaven at some point, he’d rather not have to explain his poor behavior to his mother.

“Go clean up and get us a table,” he demanded as he took the nozzle from her. He nodded in the direction of the truck stop restaurant with a frown.

“I only need a few minutes and a gallon of coffee.”

“We’re done for tonight.” He wouldn’t be able to help Tobey if they drifted off the highway and crashed into a tree.

“I’ll be okay to keep going. I just—”

“I’m not okay,” he cut off her argument. As chivalrous gestures went, his needed some work, but at least he would get the woman to rest.