Chapter Ten

The air was scorching, and she was the woman she used to be. She was Lance again.

Lance was stripped down to a tank top, but that only let the sun burn her skin directly. Sweat poured from her, stinging her eyes. She felt like she was literally being cooked alive. The car behind her also radiated heat. She shielded her eyes from the offending sun. At the end of the road, she saw a shimmer that might be a town.

Lance remembered that town. She remembered this road. The heat had snapped her out of the zombified state she’d existed in since Elaine’s death, forcing her to acknowledge she could die if she didn’t take action. She’d been eating only when she was starving. She mostly drank beer, unconcerned about driving under the influence. She did everything in a trance anyway, so what was a little fog of alcohol?

Lance started walking. Horses ran by, one herd on either side of the road, their hooves thundering without kicking up any sand. They were the horses from Kelsey and Andrea’s ranch, in Montana.

This was the road where she started on the path of becoming who she was now. She was a shell of a woman with nothing to live for, no hope.

There was another figure on the road, walking toward her, wearing full racing gear despite the heat. She was moving fast, swinging her arms, helmeted head held high.

Lance held out a hand to her.

The Race Car Driver lifted one hand with the middle finger extended. She stepped around Lance and kept walking.

Lance turned to face her. “Calico!”

The Race Car Driver stopped.

Lance stared at her back. Her heart pounded. She thought about walking on, back into the bar. The men with guns who would hold her hostage in an Oklahoma hotel room. The man in Montana who threatened awful things, who hurt people to get his way. The bank robbery. The hunters in Alaska she’d only evaded by sheer, dumb luck. The crooked cops who had come so damn close to killing her. She knew she would do it all again, face them all again if she needed to. She would risk bullets, blades, beatings, whatever they could dole out.

“Jodie.”

The scariest thing she’d done in all her years on the road had been falling for Jodie Curran. She made herself vulnerable to hurt. She’d put Jodie in danger just being near her, and yet she couldn’t stay away. Falling in love was selfish and she should have run away as soon as she felt the first stirrings. But she couldn’t.

Jodie should have run, too. God, why hadn’t she run away? A fugitive, a target for bad men, someone who couldn’t resist stepping in front of speeding buses. Lance had been such a bad choice. But Jodie stayed. Jodie waited for her.

Lance walked to the Race Car Driver. They were different people now. They left Lance and Calico behind.

They were Jodie and Claire Curran of Squire’s Isle.

Claire took off the Race Car Driver’s helmet. It was Jodie as she looked now, not as she had looked all those years ago in Shepherd, Washington. Laugh lines, gray hairs at the temple, a calmness in her eyes where there’d once been recklessness. Claire knew her face had changed, too. She’d seen it in the mirror.

“I don’t have to walk this road anymore,” she said.

Jodie smiled and brushed the hair out of Claire’s face. “Claire Lance, you’ve been walking this road your whole life. Why would you stop now, when people still need you?”

Claire looked to the left and saw a house surrounded by snow, despite the fact her skin was still burning in the sun.

Tereza.

Four other women whose names she didn’t know, but who had probably been told her name by now. She existed in their minds as hope, as potential for freedom.

“It could kill me.”

“Not doing it could kill you, too. Make you someone else. Someone I couldn’t be in love with.”

Claire looked at Jodie, whose face was oddly shadowed. She was lying down, Claire realized. They both were, and the room was dark. She was cold despite the blanket. She blinked at Jodie.

“What?” Jodie said.

“What?”

“You...” Jodie narrowed her eyes. “Were you talking in your sleep?”

Claire said, “I might have been...”

Jodie smiled. “I should have known. You called me Calico.”

“It’s a good nickname.” She leaned close and kissed Jodie by one eye.

“The woman I fell in love with risked having her face on television to protect me. I’m scared as all hell. It’s taking everything in my being to not kidnap you, take you to Hawaii, and start a new life as a coconut farmer. But I know a couple of things for certain. One, you’re you. Whatever name you use, you’ve always been the white knight. Asking you to change that would be like banning me from being around cars. It might happen, but I wouldn’t be the same person.”

“Probably true.”

“Two,” Jodie said, “these guys aren’t going to just stop and go away. Women are going to get hurt. Women are getting hurt right now. Someone has to stop that. If it’s not you, who else is going to do it?”

Claire nodded.

“Three... I love you. That might have been covered in number one. I’m tired. But it deserves to be restated.”

“I love you, too. And if the worst does happen, I want you to know that meeting you, falling in love with you, getting to build this life with you, has been the scariest thing I’ve ever done. And it’s the thing I’m proudest of.”

Jodie pressed her lips to the corner of Claire’s mouth, then lifted her head to whisper in Claire’s ear.

“Then fight for it, Lance.”

Claire wrapped her arms around Jodie so she wouldn’t go back to her side of the bed. Jodie settled on top of her. She had no idea how much time they had until morning, but she was willing to bet she could still get a few quality hours of sleep. She planned to spend as much of it as possible with Jodie in her arms.