Chapter Forty-Eight
Bree
I got lost. Between the tequila, the beer, and the bartender’s warning, it was no surprise I wasn’t thinking straight. I was out of the bar and two blocks away before I realized I had forgotten the directions to the local bus station.
When I finally found someone to ask, he looked at me with a worried frown. “Local or out of town?”
“Out of town.” I smoothed down my hair and tried to act like it was a normal question.
The older man paused next to his pick-up truck and noticed that I did not have any luggage with me. “It’s a few miles from here, almost the other side of town. Want a lift?”
I considered his rusted truck but also what Nathan would do. If he was following me, and I hoped he would try, then he would scare the hell out of the poor, nice man.
“How about a phone? I’ll call a cab,” I said.
The man nodded and let me use his old cell phone. “Waiting for a cab will give you some time to think things over,” he said.
I smiled at him as I dialed information. He had no idea how much I wished I could turn my thoughts off.
The patient man waited, and even told me the street corner where the cab could pick me up, but he never stopped frowning. He probably thought I was running from an abusive relationship or something.
I cringed. Nathan had never been anything but good to me. I was the one who insisted on helping him and never left him alone. Nathan had kept me safe as I tried, miserably, to fit the pieces of his life back together. And now that I knew what the full picture looked like, I was running away.
Nathan was a good man; I still believed that deep down. He deserved someone who could actually help him. I was nothing more than a liability and a distraction. Without me, Nathan would probably move faster, remember more, and face down whatever demons he had stashed away in his mind.
My heart ached. I wanted to stay with Nathan.
I handed the man his cell phone and thanked him.
“You sure you don’t want me to wait with you?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” I found a spot on the curb and sat down to wait for my cab.
It was Nathan I was worried about. He was the one who had everything to lose. And I was the one who had made love to him in the bar bathroom and then ran away.
Every car that passed made me jump. I imagined Nathan pulling up and marching around to open the car door for me. We’d drive a few hours without talking and then everything would be the same as it was before.
Except now I knew he really was dangerous.
It was a weak, nagging thought that sometimes pushed through my broken-hearted haze: Nathan was friends with the man who had kidnapped me. Nathan was connected to a drug cartel and had made some kind of amiable deal with Adrian Juarez.
I shivered and leaped to my feet when the cab pulled up at the corner. It was a shorter drive than I had imagined, and I was annoyed when I pulled out the skimpy roll of cash I had left. It would leave me just enough to buy a bus ticket.
I looked at the boards and calculated what I could afford. Albuquerque. It was as good a town as any. I didn’t know anyone there. I could start over.
That thought sank me onto a bench near the bus terminal doors. I had to start all over. Again.
It was hard to tell what hurt worse, the thought of never seeing Nathan again, or the thought of being all alone in a new city. One I had done before, right after the falling out with my sister. The other seemed like it was a hole in my heart that would never heal.
I swiped tears from my eyes before they could spill over and took a deep breath. I had to stay alert, not get lost in depressing daydreams.
One glance around the bus terminal made me snap out of my melancholy. There was a sparse crowd, only a few actual bus ticket holders, and I felt like every single person there was watching me. The twenty-something girl at the vending machine was shooting me curious looks. The man at the ticket counter watched me, his chin propped on one fist, bored with his work. Two day laborers checked the bus schedule and took seats on a bench too close by.
My flesh prickled. This was exactly what had happened the last time I decided to ditch Nathan. I was all alone and that’s when the cartel men grabbed me.
I wrapped my arms around myself and pressed back into my seat. This was a public place. I had to be safe. Still, my pulse tripled, and I had a bad feeling I’d made the same mistake for a second time.
What if Nathan wasn’t looking for me this time?
I fought off the vulnerable feeling and kept searching the crowd. I told myself that I wasn’t looking for Nathan, I was watching for the gunmen, but he was all I could think about.
That’s why I shrieked when Nathan sat down next to me.
“How did you..? Where did you..? Don’t ever sneak up on me again!” I vaulted out of my seat and spun to face Nathan.
He leaned back on the bench and cracked a grin. “Sorry. I thought you saw me. Or would you have run?”
I winced. I probably would have run, though it would have been a half-hearted escape attempt. My heart was galloping from fear and adrenaline but I was glad to see Nathan.
“Why would I stay?” I asked.
Nathan stood up and followed me over to the vending machines. The twenty-something girl skittered away to a better vantage point, but I couldn’t stop making a scene. My blood was boiling.
“Aren’t you the one who says we’re in this together?” Nathan rubbed his neck and glanced at the door, unsure if he should have come. “I tried to let you go, but I needed to know you were okay.”
“I’m fine. You can go.” I busied myself with the vending machine to stop from wrapping him in a tight hug.
“You’re not.” Nathan leaned on the vending machine and looked into my face. “You’re scared as hell. You’re too smart not to be.”
“Scared of you. Scared of your friends,” I hissed.
Nathan nodded. “But you know that I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”
I paused and blinked back tears before I nodded. “I know. But you can’t tell me that running away from you isn’t a good idea.”
“I understand,” Nathan said, “but you’ve been right all along. We are better off together. I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are.”
I held up my bus ticket. “I’ll be in Albuquerque.”
Nathan plucked the ticket from my hand and ripped it up. “No. I’m sorry, Bree, but you’ll be safer with me. We don’t know how many men are looking for us or what they want. All we do know is that I have dealt with them in the past and I can do it again.”
I scrambled to gather my fragmented bus ticket where he had dropped it on the floor. “No!”
Nathan moved, bumping me into the vending machine. “Stay down, Bree. Act like you’re getting something out of the vending machine.”
I shoved his knee hard. “I was going to until you wrecked my ticket. Or are you just trying to make it easier to say goodbye?”
I stood up and Nathan cornered me against the vending machine. His jaw was set and irritation warred with relief in my head. Nathan was here, I wasn’t alone, I wasn’t heading off to a new life in Albuquerque. Still, he was pushing me around, and I could tell by the hard glint in his eyes that he was keeping something from me again.
“See?” I cried out. “You can’t even be honest about why you are here.”
“Bree, stop. Lower your voice,” Nathan said.
“Why? I think I have a right to be upset. And I have a right to decide if I want to keep going or if I want to get on the next bus out of here,” I said.
Nathan took my shoulders and shook me. “Not so loud,” he whispered. Then he kissed me.
My breath caught in my throat and my body betrayed me by leaning instantly into Nathan’s lips. I returned his kiss for a full, passionate fifteen seconds before my eyes flew open.
Then I saw what had Nathan had seen: two men in dark suits weaving through the bus crowd toward us.
The station was fuller, as the bus was due at any minute, but the cartel men stuck out of the crowd. They were not dressed for a cheap bus ride, nor did they glance up at the schedules or head to the ticket counter. Instead, they slipped through the motley crowd like a pair of sharks.
“Nathan, they’re here,” I whispered against his cheek. “They’re coming this way.”
“I know,” Nathan said. He watched them in the reflection of the vending machine. “We’ll move when I say. Run to the exit nearest the ticket counter. We’re going to get out of this together.”
I nodded and got ready to run. “Together.”