The new morning sun stole into the room through the small rips and tears in the curtain, splattering the wall with dots. Rand slept on one side of the lumpy bed, softly snoring as if he didn’t have a care in the world. And I was on the other side, not sleeping at all, with all the worries and no clue how to fix anything.
Today was the day. Annie would be in court, and I’d be . . . hell, I had no idea where we were. Maybe there was a phone book around somewhere, I thought peeking into the nightstand drawer.
No phonebook. Just a Bible and a forgotten packet of condoms.
Closing the drawer, I resumed staring at the ceiling. My phone was laying silently beside me, still powered off. There were so many times I had wanted to turn it on and call Brett. There had to be an explanation. What I had heard and what I had felt in his arms were two very different things. Was I just blind?
Love was blind. I’ve heard that several times before. But you don’t love someone and incorporate them into your life just to kill them later. Was I like a pet pig before the slaughter?
And why did T seem okay with it? If I ever got back to Wisconsin, I’d have a conversation with Emmy. She was head over heels for the bastard. What if she was part of the let’s-slay-our-loved-ones contract too?
I took a deep breath to calm my racing mind and even faster heartbeat. No, she couldn’t be part of it. T would have mentioned it.
Rand’s phone rang, the screen lighting the nightstand next to him. When he didn’t move to see who it was, I nudged him.
“Wha?”
“Your phone is ringing.”
“I dun care.” He shifted, turning his back on me.
I reached over him to pick up the phone. I was dying to know who it was, even though I wouldn’t answer it. There hadn’t been any calls last night, and I wondered if Lil had thought I had napped through supper only to find me gone in the morning.
“If you’re going to hover over me, at least make it worth my while,” he said.
I snatched the phone and retreated to my side. “Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t now,” he said, pointing toward a growing tent.
I averted my eyes. “The bathroom is that way,” I said. “I’ll turn on the TV.”
He chuckled, his voice rough with sleep. “Give me my phone.”
“Why?”
“You wanted to know who called.”
I passed him the phone. He took it, swiping at the menu. “You’re going to have to talk to him eventually.”
“No, I’m not. Why? Did he call?”
“No, it was Lil.”
“Call her back so she doesn’t worry.”
“Why don’t you call her?”
“I’m a horrible liar. She’d never believe I ran off with you.”
“But you did. So it’s the truth.”
“Yes, but we’re not in love.”
“You don’t have to be in love to run away together.”
“Were you?” I blurted before I thought better of it.
“With Emily?”
I nodded.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“You were both young.”
“Not as young as when I met her.”
“When was that?”
“Eve brought her home one day and introduced Emily to the family. She had a dirty nose and pigtails.”
“That must have been second grade,” I said, thinking back to what Brett had told me. “You’ve loved her since second grade.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t say it was love. She was a dirty, snot-nosed brat. But I recognized there was something that pulled me toward her.”
“Aww,” I sighed, not being able to help it. “When did you know for sure?”
He rolled his eyes and tossed the blankets aside. “You have two choices. Either straddle me and I’ll answer all of your questions, or shut up and I’ll take care of my own needs in the bathroom.”
I shook my head. “I almost forgot you were a jerk, but you keep reminding me.”
“I aim to please,” he said with a smirk and waltzed off to the bathroom with his phone in hand.
I was never going to touch that phone again.
* * *
Rand counted his money after paying for breakfast. “We aren’t going to get very far if we don’t stop at an ATM.”
“Brett will be able to track us, then.”
“He’ll track us with or without credit transactions.”
“But it’ll be harder without.”
“How many credit cards do you have?” he asked.
“Four.”
“I have three. If we take out the maximum on each card, we’ll have enough to tide us over for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month if we’re careful.”
A month with Rand? Crap. The fact remained that I needed his help no matter how much we disliked each other. He must really want Emily back if he was willing to put up with me for a month.
No, it wouldn’t take that long. If I didn’t have the information I needed within a few days, it wouldn’t matter anymore. Brett would find me. And whatever the result would be, it’d be on his terms, like always. I was up against a wall with no options but to take Rand’s help; and I needed to call the ladies to fill them in.
“I guess we have no choice,” I said. “But we’ll need to change directions. We can’t follow the same highway we’ve been driving.”
“He’ll expect that. We’ll continue on.”
“Continue on to where?”
“East Coast.” He shrugged. “Maybe the city. We can decide later.”
“I want to buy a burner phone with some of the money.”
“There’s a convenience store across the street. We can get the money and the phone there.”
I stood, wincing at pain in my rear quarter.
“Sore?” He chuckled. “We can take it easier today. If Brett thinks we’re running away, he’ll expect us to run fast. We can take it slower today.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, sweet thing,” he said, smacking my butt as he waltzed out the door.
I glared daggers into his back. This was going to be a long trip.
* * *
It was later in the day when Rand finally parked the motorcycle. He had said he’d take it slow. My sore behind argued that he had done otherwise—and had enjoyed every agonizing bump in the road.
I slid off the bike and into the sand. Wherever we were, it was beautiful. I should have been paying attention to signs, but my fatigued mind wandered and may have even dozed off.
Not bothering to pick myself up off the ground, I lay in the sand and watched waves lap the shore. They weren’t rolling monstrosities, just calm and smooth.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Gulf of Mexico,” he answered. “We’re getting close to Pensacola.”
“You didn’t follow the same highway like you said you were going to.”
“I thought we could sleep here tonight.”
“Where?” I looked around but didn’t see a hotel anywhere. In fact, there was nothing around.
“Here.”
“In the sand?”
“Got a problem with that?” He eyed me, ready for complaints.
“No, but I’ve been wearing the same outfit for two days. I already feel gross.”
“We can pick something up for you tomorrow.”
I nodded and relaxed in the sand. “Has anyone called?”
“I turned off my phone.”
“You did?”
“If Brett can track you by your phone, what’s not to say he won’t do the same with mine?”
“I didn’t think about that.”
After Rand and I had withdrawn money out of the ATM and bought a burner phone, I had immediately turned on my phone so I could retrieve contact information from it. If Brett looked for us, he’d know we had stopped at a convenience store anyway, just from our transactions, so turning on my phone then seemed to be the best time to do it.
I had tried to avoid looking at the many new texts from Brett, but I couldn’t stop myself. I tapped his name and held my breath. Before I could read, Rand snatched the phone away and shut it off.
“You’ll torture yourself if you read those,” he had said.
He was right.
If Brett had said he loved me and that I misunderstood what he’d said, would I believe him? No, it was better not to know.
Now that we were hundreds of miles away and stationary for a bit, I’d call Kym and Mrs. Janowski and find out what’s been going on.
“I think I’ll take a walk,” I said.
Rand looked down at me as I struggled to stand. “Need help?”
“I wouldn’t need help if you’d kept your promise.”
“I don’t make promises.”
“You said we’d take it slow.”
He reached down, grasping my hand to tug me up. “We’ve stopped, haven’t we?”
I rubbed my bum. “That’s not the same thing as taking it easy.”
“You’ll feel better after you walk,” he said, smacking my sore butt again.
“I hate you.”
“Feeling is mutual, sweet thing.”
If I could’ve bent down, I’d have tossed a handful of sand at his smug face. Instead, I walked away and dialed Mrs. Janowski on my new phone.
“I’m not going to buy your magazine or pledge my kidney,” Mrs. Janowski stated when she answered the phone.
“Mrs. J., it’s Mars. I’m using a different phone.”
“Girls, it’s Mars!” she shouted. “Mars, we’ve got the whole gang here, and we’re working around the clock.”
“Did Brett try to contact you?” I asked.
“He did. He asked where you were.”
“What did you tell him?”
“We told him the truth. We had no idea where you were.”
“I’m on the road with his uncle. We’re lying low.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. The girls and I have been so worried. As soon as Annie was released from jail, we started working hard on our defenses. But since we didn’t know where you were, we’ve been—”
“Annie was released?” I interrupted.
“Yes, just this morning. It’s been all over the news. Protests and everything. I think there was some underhanded money exchange.”
“Oh my God.” Here I’d been worrying about Brett, and now Annie was free. I sat on the sand, stunned.
“And another box showed up at the Hog.”
“Oh no.”
“I know. I know,” Mrs. Janowski said. “But don’t worry. We have the biker brigade ready to move out. Just tell us where you are and we’ll be there.”
“No, that’s not a good idea.”
“Nonsense. You need support. Just tell us where you are.”
“I don’t—”
“Near Pensacola,” Aaron shouted in the background.
“How did he know?” I asked.
“We’ve been talking for enough time that he tracked your phone,” Mrs. Janowski said.
Crap. I used a burner phone so Brett couldn’t find me, but I never thought about the ladies. I had wanted their help, but from the safety of Mrs. J.’s home.
“We’ll be there in seventeen hours,” she said. “No, make that twenty hours; a few of us might need extra potty breaks.”
“Mrs. J., please don’t come down here. I’m trying to hide. If you show up with the bikers, you’ll lead Brett and Annie right to me.”
“Exactly. We need to draw them out. Nothing worse than an enemy in your blind spot,” she said. “But, about Brett, are you sure he means you harm? He seemed awfully worried about you.”
I sighed. “I heard him talking to T. They were—”
“Hang on. Let me put you on speak so everyone can hear this.”
“I don’t want everyone to hear—”
“Hi, Mars,” voices greeted.
She’d put me on speaker. Well, everyone was going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.
“Go on, Mars,” Mrs. Janowski said. “Tell us what happened.”
“Is Aaron listening?” I asked.
“Do I need to cover his ears?” Mrs. Janowski asked.
“No, I think he might be able to help. He might know what Brett’s hiding.”
“Well, go on then,” Mrs. Janowski urged.
So, I told them what had happened, even though I wasn’t exactly sure what house Brett and T had gone to. I told them that Eve had been to that house. And then I told them that there was a contract and a price. Brett had to kill me.
“Aaron,” Mrs. Janowski called, “what did you see on Brett’s phone?”
“He had an app, one that looks like a calculator. It’s not. It’s the entrance to a hitman site.”
“Hitman?” I choked.
“He’s an assassin?” Mrs. Janowski asked with the same choked reaction.
“Not necessarily,” Aaron said. “But probably. The only people who would use that app are hitmen and guys bidding on hitmen.”
“Bidding?” I repeated.
“Some of these guys are really good and are in high demand. Their services are bid on.”
“I’m not going to even ask how you know about this,” Kym muttered. “Just make sure Jim doesn’t find out.”
“Don’t worry,” Aaron said. “I’ve never been on it. Just heard things.”
“What else have you heard?” Mrs. Janowski asked.
“Well, I’ve heard of people using the site for information in exchange for services.”
“And are there contracts?” I asked, remembering Brett’s words.
“It’s possible. I’ve never seen one. But if they exist, they’re probably located in the deep web.”
“What’s that?” Edna asked.
“The deep web is a place you can’t get to using browsers. You have to know exactly the right IP address and passwords. It’d be nearly impossible for government agencies to find.”
“How come I have the feeling you know how to find it?” Kym asked.
“It’d take me awhile,” he admitted.
“I don’t like this,” I said. I had always wondered where Brett came up with his money to pay my bills when he wasn’t working. From the things I did know, he drove an expensive car, owned the house in the woods in Wisconsin, owned a cabin somewhere in Texas, rents an apartment, and is able to fly out at a moment’s notice. He said he was good with money. When I had first questioned him months ago, he had said he bounty hunted while still on the trail of Annie. What’s to say he didn’t contract for information on her? That part didn’t worry me. It was the “in exchange for services.”
And what about information on Eve?
“Brett had mentioned that he was looking for Eve, as if she were still alive,” I said. “He sounded as if he had mixed emotions, like he wasn’t sure what to believe. Do you think he might have posted for information on her?”
“Possibly,” Mrs. Janowski said thoughtfully. “But who would know about her, and why would they want to eighty-six you?”
“I don’t know.” The puzzle only entwined further. Nothing made sense. Brett was a hitman? I wanted to call him, to demand he explain. Demand that he make up a story— one that I’d believe—and things could go back to the way they were.
But there was no story I’d believe. The Brett I knew would do anything for his deceased sister. And if Eve was still alive, he would move mountains to find her.
He would kill.