Leslie’s escape plan was different than Lincoln’s. He didn’t want her to use the phone or leave any type of trail, but at some point, she had to see Daddy in the hospital. The lawyer was getting the details sorted out. It killed her not to be there at the prison when he was transported but Lincoln had said absolutely no way. She’d just have to sneak it. Maybe if she had a bathroom break? Yep that’d have to be it.

The one thing that kept Leslie from bolting was the fact that Lincoln was right about most things. Antonio and Dom would find her right away if she showed up at the prison. So she had to trust the lawyer. Her two million dollars was helping secure good service on that front. Lincoln told her that even her contact with the lawyer would soon have to be through a third party so he couldn’t trace her.

She was going to have to lose Daddy for a while to save him, but how long? She hoped only a few days. Maybe when this died down, if she didn’t die, right now she had to hold on to Lincoln with both hands.

She looked at her recently acquired smartphone. It was off and she wasn’t checking her texts or messages. Lincoln said “off the grid” was the way to be. As a former stripper turned call girl, off the grid wasn’t too far of a leap. But Petra, that would be a problem was Petra after them too? No way to know.

She kept thinking about Daddy, Petra, Lincoln, anything but what it felt like to kill Franco. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the sound, smell, the feel of the knife stabbing into him. She’d snapped for sure, more from what they’d done to Lincoln because of her than from Franco trying to rape her.

She didn’t feel guilty, it had to be done, but still, she felt like a line had been crossed in her life, another important one in the wrong direction. Stripper, call girl, now murderer. Not a pretty path. A tear escaped her eye. But dammit, she wouldn’t show Lincoln, he worried about her enough. She needed to show him she was tough.

Lincoln trusted her with the navigation. He’d instructed her to find off-the-beaten-path routes. She did. She wanted to show him she could contribute. She got him into this mess, and she’d help get them out. Somehow.

They had decided to sleep in the truck, at least for the night. There were no hotels around and neither of them wanted to spend their stash of cash on crappy motor courts. It was best to save it for the big stuff. They had a lot of cash, but also a lot of road ahead.

She looked around at the truck. Daddy would think this was the fanciest truck in the world, with its back seat, towing, and all the upgrades. She was grateful it had that back seat because maybe Lincoln could get some rest. She took the front seat to stretch out in because the steering wheel made it even smaller up there. Lincoln would never fit.

They’d parked in a rest area and then used the four-wheel drive to get even further off the road so no one would happen by no cops, no thugs, no serial killers. In her mind, serial killers hung out at highway rest stops.

There were no other cars around, but she could hear the occasional whir of highway traffic. And she could hear Lincoln breathing. She wanted to look at him. She couldn’t sleep, and the idea that he was right there, on the other side of the seat, with his strong arms; it was too much. He could make her feel secure and so much more if only he would stop stopping her.

Lincoln had resisted her over and over again. She wasn’t sure why. She knew he felt the heat between them, but he put up a wall. Well, that was going to get really difficult for him. She’d make sure of it. If they were going to be on the run together, he was going to give in. She needed his affection, his protection, and well, she almost hated to admit it, but his love. She needed love.

She would never tell Lincoln what she needed or felt. Because it seemed selfish; after all the trouble she’d already caused she couldn’t ask him for more. He’d already given over his life, and she was grabbing for more.

It sounded strange that a woman who’d just earned two million dollars to make love felt unloved, but there it was. They’d all wanted her body and wanted to pretend she was someone else. Lincoln wanted her safe, Lincoln would nearly kill anyone who hurt her, and Lincoln wanted a ranch, away from the Vegas life.  Lincoln wanted Marilyn, she knew that, but did Lincoln also want Leslie?  All these thoughts made sleep impossible.

Leslie slowly sat up and peered over the seat at Lincoln. The sight made her smile. He didn’t really fit; his shoulders were too wide for sleeping in the back seat of the truck.  His face was so much softer when he slept. She hated to wake him up. But still, if he’d just hold her, maybe she’d sleep too. Maybe she could close her eyes and not think of those last moments with Franco and every other thing.

“Lincoln.” She said it softly but his eyes were wide open in an instant.

“Leslie, are okay.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay I just can’t sleep, I keep seeing… I’m afraid. Can I?”

She stopped short of asking.  It sounded stupid, the needing comfort; she was supposed to be a grown woman.

“Come here,” he said. And relief flooded her chest. Lincoln had spread open his arms and she clumsily climbed over the seat and on top of him. His solid chest underneath her cheek, his warmth radiating from him to her, it calmed her immediately. She might even sleep.

Lincoln wrapped his muscled arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She had him where she wanted him. She could make love to him right now. She wanted to, badly. It was her plan, to seal his fate, to make him her protector forever. But she didn’t. Instead, she felt her breathing begin to sync with his. She rose and fell on his chest. He stroked her back and murmured into the top of her head. He was lulling her to sleep. He was settling her fears by his warm and solid force that enveloped her.

She’d planned to wrap Lincoln in her spell if she could, and instead found he’d perhaps done it to her. He wanted more than sex. This was a first, and it was frightening. Did she have more? That question added to the worries, but all the worries started to drift away. She was safe on the rock that was Lincoln, and she slept in his arms.