Chapter Eight
Lauren slept hard all night, except for the three times Cal woke her up. One of those times, he had his head buried between her thighs when she drifted back to wakefulness. The other two, his roaming hands woke her before he pushed his cock into her drenched pussy.
As the gray light of dawn started creeping in around the edges of the drapes, she blinked awake. Turning her head, she saw that Cal was actually still asleep this time, sprawled on his belly and breathing heavily enough to almost be snoring.
He’d pushed all the covers off, and she smiled as she propped her head on an elbow and examined his naked body in the low light. He was perfect, and she couldn’t keep from touching him.
The moment her fingers grazed the skin over his spine, Cal’s breath caught and his body went still. She traced to the base of his skull where his head was turned away from her. He lay quietly, allowing her to explore. Reversing her path, Lauren slid her fingertips down his spine to his ass. It was hard and smooth and much too tempting, so she palmed each cheek and squeezed.
He grunted but otherwise didn’t move. Continuing her exploration, she ran her hands the length of his legs, pausing to massage the arches of his feet with her knuckles before returning to his calves and rubbing the sculpted muscles there. She explored each area while Calvin made quiet, happy sounds, small groans or murmurs that made her smile again.
Massaging the long muscles bulging at his thighs, Lauren marveled that this package of masculine perfection was hers. She’d always considered herself a normal, ordinary woman and had expected to end up with a normal, ordinary man. In no way could Cal be considered ordinary. In fact, she had to be careful that he didn’t ruin her for all other men.
She sighed, absently rubbing her palms against the muscles in his lower back. The thought of being with other men reminded her that this was probably not permanent. How could it be? It only started because she was too stubborn—and foolish—not to stay out of it when she’d realized government agents were chasing the cute mail-room guy. If she’d been smart, she’d have run the other way and not given him a haircut in the women’s bathroom.
Occupied as she was with her thoughts, Lauren was startled when the body beneath her massaging hands flipped over onto his back and sat up. With a sound suspiciously close to a growl, Cal seized her waist and lifted her over his hips, lowering her down onto his erection before she realized what was happening. She squeaked in surprise as he entered her, startled but not uncomfortable. Touching him had made her wet, so wet his bulk slid into her easily, stretching but not hurting.
They both groaned as he filled her, deeper and deeper until their groins met. Both sucked in a breath and Cal’s fingers dug into her flesh, anchoring her against him. She tipped forward, grabbing his shoulders and burying her face against his neck where the tendons stood in sharp relief beneath his skin.
Without thinking, she closed her teeth on one of the cords, biting lightly. He growled again, releasing one of her hips to cup the back of her head in his palm, pulling her more tightly against him.
Feeling guilty about the bite, Lauren released his neck from the grip of her teeth and ran her tongue in an apologetic line across the abused skin. He hissed and, returning his hand to her hip, lifted her until his cock was almost out of her body. Pulling her back down, he shoved his hips upward at the same time, driving his erection deep inside her.
Air left her lungs in a rush as she clung to his shoulders, digging her short nails into his skin. It had to hurt, but it only seemed to incite him further. He raised and lowered her, bringing them together with quick, almost violent thrusts. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except hang on and enjoy the ride. The rougher he fucked her, the more she enjoyed it, which would probably bother her if she weren’t flying toward an orgasm that promised to be more mind-blowing than any she’d ever had before.
He flipped her onto her back and shoved her knees to her chest. The moment of emptiness was brief but relief still filled her as his cock split her open again, making her whole once more. Lauren clung to his upper arms as he pounded into her body, his thrusts unnaturally fast. Her orgasm took her by surprise, sweeping her up and carrying her away as he hammered her hard. Dazed, she watched as he came, loving the way his body stilled with his cock deep inside her, how his expression went slack and his mouth opened slightly as he followed her into orgasm.
It wasn’t until after, when they lay tangled together, sweaty and happy, that she remembered and bolted upright.
Cal cocked a questioning eyebrow at her.
“Babies, needles, psycho scientists!” Her hands flew in frantic circles. “We got the jumbo-sized box—how could we forget to use a condom?”
“Shit.” Cal sat up next to her. “You were touching me.”
She bounced out of bed and felt the evidence of their condom-less deed trickle down her thigh. “So it was my fault.”
“No.” He paused. “But your hands were touching me. Everywhere.”
“You grabbed me and just popped it in, all bare and naked and possibly baby-making.” She started pacing.
“Fine. It was my fault.” He tracked her with narrow, hungry eyes. “It was my fault I fucked you bare. My fault you felt so incredible, so hot and wet and tight around my cock, I had to come in you. My fault I wanted to mark you, make you smell like me, make you mine.”
Somewhere in the middle of his growly speech, Lauren stopped pacing and started drifting back toward the bed, her eyes locked on his.
“No!” Her hands flew up to cover her eyes. “Must. Resist.”
“Resist what?”
“You! You and your stupid hotness!”
Lauren jumped a little when she felt his hands on her wrists, gently pulling her own from her face. “Stop it,” she said, squeezing her eyes closed. “Looking at you is what got us into trouble in the first place.”
“No. Touching is what got us into trouble.”
She opened her eyes so she could glare at him. “Looking came first. Especially naked looking.” She couldn’t help it. Her eyes darted down to see that he was fully aroused again. With a little groan, she shot her gaze back to his face.
Cal closed his eyes for a moment. “Christ. We should get going.”
“Okay.” After a moment, she prompted, “I’ll need my hands back.”
“Right. Fuck.” He dropped them and turned abruptly away, heading toward the bathroom.
As she watched that pretty, pretty backside walking away from her, Lauren pressed back a grin. “I could share your shower. Save a little time, you know—”
“No,” he barked, closing the bathroom door behind him with a snap. After a few seconds, he stuck out his head. “In what fucking universe would us showering together save time?”
She just grinned and shrugged. Cal made an obvious effort to glare but the corner of his mouth tipped up, giving him away. With a shake of his head, he ducked back into the bathroom.
* * *
“This is so wrong. We are going to hell for this for sure.” Lauren was squeezing her eyes closed. “Like, straight to hell. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars, just directly to Lucifer’s living room.”
Cal didn’t seem too perturbed. “This is ideal. She never drives this car. It’s sixteen years old and doesn’t even have five thousand miles on it. We should have a few days before anyone notices and calls it in.” The Buick purred to life and Cal grinned, pushing the button on the garage door opener hooked to the sun visor.
With a little moan, Lauren leaned forward until her forehead rested on the dash. “This is a grandma’s car. A sweet, little old lady. How is she supposed to get to church?”
“She’ll live.” Cal shifted into reverse and eased out of the garage, hitting the button again to close the overhead door and hide the now-empty space.
Lauren craned her neck, her heart beating triple-time as she looked to see if the car’s elderly owner was in sight. Earlier, they had waited behind an absent neighbor’s six-foot privacy fence and watched the woman leave her house with her tiny fluff ball of a dog on a leash. Lauren had felt like the worst kind of creeper watching the lady and her little dog make their slow way down the street.
As soon as the woman turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Cal had taken Lauren’s hand and casually walked out of the neighbor’s gate, heading to the unlocked door at the back of the garage. Once inside, he’d grabbed the keys hanging next to the door into the house and given Lauren a little push toward the passenger seat. Her stomach churning, Lauren had climbed into the car as Cal tossed the duffel bag into the back seat.
Somehow, the fact that the woman was trusting enough to leave her garage unlocked and the keys hanging right next to the car made it so much worse.
“She’ll never trust anyone again,” Lauren sighed, relieved to see the car owner was nowhere in sight as they headed in the opposite direction of the woman and her dog.
“She’ll get it back in a few days.” Cal turned left, heading toward the road leading to the interstate. “We can put some cash in the glove box or something like that. Maybe a thank-you card. Don’t grandmas love those?”
She stared at his profile. “Yes, from their grandchildren. Not from the assholes who stole her beloved Buick.”
Cal just shrugged.
“Don’t you feel a little bad about this?” Lauren asked.
“No.”
She blinked. “Not at all?”
“Her feelings are not my priority right now. Keeping you safe is.”
Lauren was quiet as she digested his words. She’d always thought of herself as a morally strong person, but this road trip was making her question that. If she were truly a good person, would she have insisted on buying a car or taking the bus or hitchhiking? Was stealing the VW bus and now the Buick really necessary for their survival, or was Lauren on a slippery ethical slope that ended with her becoming an immoral, unfeeling criminal? Would she go back and change any of her ethically iffy decisions if it meant Cal might’ve gotten caught? Was there anything she wouldn’t do if it meant stopping his return to the lab?
“What?” Cal asked.
“What?”
He glanced at her. “You’ve been staring at me. Hard.”
“Sorry. It’s just a scary thought.”
“What is?”
“I realized there’s pretty much nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.” She twisted around, digging in the duffel until her fingers closed around a plastic bag. “Gummy worm?”
Cal was silent and still, staring out the windshield. The only movement was a twitching muscle in his cheek.
Holding the bag of candy between them, she gave it a little jiggle. “Cal? Worm?”
He cleared his throat but his voice still came out rusty. “No.”
With a shrug, she popped a gummy worm in her mouth. Chewing the candy, she looked out the window.
“Hey, there’s our bus. Hi, hippie bus!” Lauren turned in her seat to watch the abandoned bus through the rear window. “Bye, hippie bus.”
Cal’s hand landed on her leg above her knee and squeezed.
Looking at him, she cocked her head. “What’s up?”
He just gave another squeeze and a half shake of his head without looking at her.
“Sure you don’t want a worm? They’re pretty tasty.” She dangled one next to him.
“No thanks.” The corner of his mouth turned up, and the muscle in his cheek stopped twitching. “You don’t have to eat that shit. We can stop for breakfast in a couple hours and have some real food.”
“I’ll be hungry again by then.” She ate the worm she’d been wiggling at him and looked out the window as they sped up the ramp onto the interstate.
“Lauren.”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing I wouldn’t do for you either.”
Her throat grew hot and tight, making it hard to swallow the latest worm. She put her hand over his, pressing it harder against her leg.
* * *
“Fuck.”
Lauren jumped. Until Cal’s muttered profanity, the car had been quiet for an hour after they’d swung through a fast-food drive-through for breakfast. She’d just been thinking of the night before and trying to resist staring at him or grabbing him or insisting he exit the interstate and find a hidden spot where she could straddle him and—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
She had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t talking about the kind of fuck she was thinking about, unfortunately. “What’s wrong?”
“State patrol’s behind us.”
Her stomach jumped. “Behind us? Like, after us, or behind us just tooling along, oblivious to the fact that we stole this car?”
“The first one.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
She craned her neck to see behind them. “I don’t see them.”
“We passed him. He was sitting in the median, running radar. Once he noticed us, he pulled out to follow. He’ll be catching up in a minute.”
Lauren kept staring behind them. “Why did he notice us?”
“Listen.” Cal thumbed up the volume on the phone he was using to follow the law-enforcement radio traffic.
“—a blue Buick four-door sedan matching the description of the stolen vehicle. Stand by for the plate,” the male voice crackled through.
“Copy. Plate when you’re ready,” a female voice responded.
“Fuck,” Cal muttered. It seemed to be his favorite word that morning, even more so than usual. “Should’ve switched out the plates. Fucking sloppy.”
The following silence seemed to go on forever. Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as she saw a gray car with a light bar on the top coming up behind them, fast.
“He’s behind us, Cal.” Although she knew she was stating the obvious, Lauren couldn’t stay quiet. “He’s not pulling us over, though.”
Cal grunted. “He’ll run the plate first.”
Sure enough, the male voice was back on the radio. “Kansas plate five-eight-four-Henry-Boy-Lincoln.”
In the pause that followed, Lauren stared at Cal’s profile. The muscle in his cheek was twitching again.
“Do we have a plan?” she asked, wincing at the squeak in her voice. “It doesn’t even need to be a long-term plan. Just long enough to get us out of this situation in a way that doesn’t end in prison. Or, you know, death.”
His gaze flashed on her for just a second. “You are not going to prison. If this goes to shit, we’re both going to say you were my hostage. Understand?”
“But—”
“No. I can get out of whatever holding cell they put me in. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to get you out of an interrogation room than the fucking women’s jail.”
At the thought of accusing Cal of keeping her with him against her will, Lauren’s chin pushed forward. “But I—”
“No.”
She opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the female dispatcher’s voice.
“That plate is coming back to a 1998 Buick Park Avenue reported stolen this morning out of Myron, Kansas. Two county squads are en route to your location to assist. ETA approximately five minutes.”
“Copy.” The trooper’s voice showed the effects of adrenaline, sounding a little faster and higher than before. “As soon as County’s in position, I’ll attempt a felony stop.”
“Cal?” Her voice had been squeaky before, but now it sounded like a dog whistle. “Plan?”
“Hang on.”
With those not-very-reassuring words, Cal hit the gas.
Grabbing at the door, Lauren felt the pressure of their forward momentum flatten her against the seat. A siren whooped behind them, and she glanced back to see the patrol car, lights flashing, had sped up as well and was close enough for her to see the trooper driving. Lauren whipped her head so she faced forward again, not wanting him to get a good look at her.
“They’re running!” The trooper’s voice had shot up another octave. “I’m in pursuit of the stolen vehicle, occupied times two, heading west on 70, mile marker...stand by...one-seventy-two, that’s one-seven-two.”
“Oh holy freaking monkey balls,” Lauren muttered, thoughts jumping in and out of her mind randomly. This was no longer a fun, sexy road trip. This was freaking scary. They were in a car chase with the cops in a stolen car going a gazillion miles an hour. How did this insanity—criminal insanity—become her life?
Cal swerved right, catching the exit ramp at the last second.
She glanced over her shoulder to see the state patrol car hadn’t managed to follow them onto the ramp. He must have not been expecting Cal’s quick maneuver and flew past the exit. As Cal ignored the stop sign at the end of the ramp, slowing just enough to make the turn onto the highway, she craned her neck for a glimpse of flashing lights.
“They just exited at one-seventy—one-seven-zero—stand by, I’ve lost visual.” It was strange hearing the trooper’s amped voice crackling through the radio app on the phone, as if they were listening to it happening on the news, hearing about someone else’s drama-filled, very bad day.
As they flew down the mostly deserted highway, Lauren twisted around, watching the interstate exit ramp so hard she realized she’d forgotten to blink.
When she finally spotted the patrol car, she blinked.
“How’d he manage that?” she asked without looking away from the flashing lights. “He’s behind us again!”
“Probably did a U-turn, cut across the median and caught the eastbound exit.” Cal sounded abnormally calm.
“I’ve regained visual,” the voice from the radio blared, making Lauren jump. “We’re headed north on Highway Five.”
“Copy.” The dispatcher sounded abnormally calm, just like Cal. “North on Highway Five.”
Lauren was dying to demand to know what the plan was, but she kept her mouth shut. If there was no plan beyond “hang on,” she didn’t want to know. She decided that her own personal plan would be to continue clinging to the door and trying not to hyperventilate.
A new female voice spoke up on the radio, rattling off a number.
“Go ahead,” the dispatcher said.
“I’m at Highway Five, just south of County Road Eighty-Two. I’m ready to deploy the spike strips.”
“Copy,” the trooper behind them answered. “We’re headed right at you. You should see us in just a couple minutes.”
“Cal,” Lauren said as more new voices joined the radio conversation. Two sheriff squads had joined the trooper on their tail. “I think I can guess, but what are spike strips?”
“They lay them across the road to blow out our tires.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought.” She looked at her fingers gripping the door, a corner of her mind noting how white her knuckles were.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going that way.” With another one of his no-slowing-necessary turns, he squealed around the corner to the left onto a narrow, paved road.
“They’ve turned west onto Birch County Road Seventy-Nine,” one of the voices on the radio reported.
This road started climbing almost immediately, twisting up a wooded hill. Lauren clung to her handhold and closed her eyes. She immediately realized that the turns were worse when she couldn’t see and anticipate the curves, so her eyes popped open again.
They flew around another twist in the road, and Lauren screamed while Cal swore. The heavy, slow-moving bulk of a garbage truck blocked their lane, forcing them to swerve to the left. She shrieked again as an oncoming SUV barreled toward them, close enough to see the driver’s horrified face.
Cal grunted and their car went left again, two wheels on the shoulder and two sliding down the ravine bordering the road as the SUV flew past, brakes squealing. Cal cranked the wheel to the right and, for a hopeful second, Lauren thought they’d make it back onto the road. Instead, the shoulder narrowed and the ravine grew steeper, and the Buick began sliding to the left, faster and faster, until the entire car rolled onto its side and then upside down.
They were still sliding, Lauren realized, in jerks and starts, as tree branches and scrubby bushes slapped against the upside-down car. She realized she was saying something over and over, “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod,” as her body lurched with each sliding jerk of the vehicle. There was a loud cracking sound, and the car finally slammed to a halt.
“Cal.” Although she was screaming in her head, her voice came out as barely a whimper. “Cal!”
“Here.” His voice sounded so much the same as always, calm and brusque and bossy. “I’m fine. Hang on. I’ll get you out.”
“Okay.” She felt strange, almost as if she were floating. “Cal, I’m upside-down.”
“I know. Just hold on.” She heard a thump and then his hands were there, unfastening her seat belt. “There’s a tree outside your door, so we’re going out on my side.”
“A tree?” She turned her head toward her door, which was bowed in, the smashed window framing the gray-brown bark of what looked to indeed be a tree.
Then she was free, slipping down until Cal’s grip steadied her and turned her right-side up. He sat her on the ceiling of the car, which had somehow, in a strange way that her fuzzy brain couldn’t figure out, become the floor.
“Cal,” she protested as his hands released her.
“Just a second,” he grunted, turning so his back was to her and both feet were against his door. He drew his legs up and kicked out. Lauren heard a loud bang and a crunch and suddenly there was a hole where the door had been.
“Let’s go.” His hands were back, and he was pulling her out of the car. She tried to help but her limbs felt disconnected from her body, loose and useless. Once they were free of the car, no longer in a confusing, upside-down world, her brain cleared a little. Cal stood, his iron grip holding her upright but off the ground a few inches.
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to firm up her trembling voice. “You can put me down.”
Cal frowned and shook his head. “Nope, gotta run. They’ll be down here soon. Can you hold on if you’re on my back?”
“I—I think so.” She attempted to move her arms and was happy to see that they were under her control again, more or less.
He swung her around behind him, and she grabbed his shoulders automatically. With one hand on her butt, he hitched her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She’d barely latched on when he took off running.
Lauren looked over her shoulder at the steep incline, her breath catching at the height of the ravine they’d just hurtled down. Although the trees were leafless, the car had traveled quite a distance and the woods were thick enough to hide most of what was happening up on the road. The sound of sirens echoed around them, but she could only see flashing red and blue lights and flickers of movement. Lauren wondered if that movement was people chasing down the ravine after them. At the thought, her breath caught, and her arms and legs tightened around Cal.
“Ease up,” he grunted, his voice sounding strangled. Lauren realized she had a death grip around his throat and shifted her arms to circle his shoulders instead. He ran fast, as if he didn’t even notice her weight, dodging around trunks and ducking beneath tree limbs. She tucked her face against the side of his neck to avoid getting slapped by any branches.
He slowed, and Lauren turned her head to see the reason for his hesitation. He reached in his pocket and pulled something out. The light reflected off the small item but she couldn’t tell what it was. His hand squeezed, and then it was back in his pocket and he was running faster than before.
A loud boom shook the ground underneath them, but Cal never hesitated. Twisting her neck around to see behind her, Lauren gaped at the ball of flames and black smoke that flared through the trees.
“Is that Grandma’s car?” she gasped, her words uneven from bouncing on Cal’s sprinting back.
“It was.”
“You blew up Grandma’s car?” She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around that. “How?”
“Implanted an explosive device in my electronic equipment. Didn’t intend it to be a car bomb, but I’ll take the distraction.” He turned his head, as if he’d heard something, and then angled in that direction.
Lauren opened her mouth, but a painful jolt in her right thigh took her mind off exploding cars. The numbness was wearing off, and pain was creeping over her body. Most was tolerable, but the searing flashes from her thigh and the heavy throbbing on the right side of her head stole her breath and prickled her skin with sweat.
“You okay?” Cal asked, as if he could read her mind. His run slowed to a jog as he glanced back at her.
No. “Fine.” He didn’t need the distraction of her whining. “Keep going.”
“I smell blood.” Ignoring her, he slowed even more.
“There’ll be more blood if they catch us,” she said, squeezing his shoulders. “Plus prison and torture and needles and crazy scientists. So run.”
He made a displeased sound but sped up.
Lauren’s head swam a little, and she couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Run, Forrest, run!”
“Shit.” Although he didn’t slow down this time, Cal was obviously unhappy. “Head injury.”
“I’m okay, Cal. Nothing’s going to fall off before we get to safety and can check each other out, including my head.” She restrained another giggle at the thought of checking him out, thoroughly checking him out, but then sobered. If her random, inappropriate thoughts were any indication, she did have a head injury.
A new sound filtered in above the crunching of Cal’s feet on the forest floor. Lauren listened intently, trying to identify it as they passed through a final stand of trees into an open area.
“A river!” The source of the sound seemed obvious now, and she felt a little dumb not to have realized what it was right away.
“Creek,” he corrected. “Turtle Creek.”
“It’s a big creek,” Lauren said doubtfully as Cal jogged into the water. At the center of the creek, the water rose to above his knees.
“Wide but not too deep.” He slowed to a walk, the water sloshing with each step.
She eyed the water doubtfully and hitched her legs higher out of splash range, tensing as a jolt of pain shot through her thigh at the movement. “It must be freezing.”
His shrug lifted her arms. “I’ll live. It’s worth it to throw off the dogs.”
“Like, literal dogs?”
Cal nodded. “Once they realize that we weren’t in the car when it blew, they’ll try to track us. This creek should be wide enough not to leave our scent trace on the bank.”
She glared at the bank as if it were a potential betrayer but stopped when staring so hard brought the dizziness back. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on Cal’s shoulder.
“Hey, sweet pea,” he said, giving her a little bounce. “You still with me?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She lifted her head with an effort, since it suddenly weighed two tons. Lauren was determined not to complain about it, though, since all she was doing was sitting on his back, while Cal was carrying her through knee-high, freezing water. She also noticed a streak of blood smeared across his cheek, so he had his own aches and pains. She wasn’t going to add to his stress when there was nothing they could do about her injuries now.
Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she squeezed her arms around his shoulders. It felt as if they were both tilting back and forth, but Lauren knew it was just her brain misbehaving.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his own grip tightening. “You’re not okay.”
“No,” she argued, swallowing back her nausea. Puking on him would not prove her “I’m fine” point. “I’m okay. Just a little...”
The world swirled around her and then went black.