Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“But that’s one change. Are you going to wear that every day?”
She nodded resolutely.
Seriously? “What if we’re on the road for a week? Or two? Maybe more?”
After all, Kane was taking Valeria straight into hiding. The bosses hadn’t told him how long to keep Laila on the road and out of view, but given the fact they were wrapped up in Kimber’s rescue, he didn’t see his marching orders changing anytime soon.
“I will be fine.”
End of conversation—as far as Laila was concerned. Whatever. They didn’t have time to argue. Besides, this was Florida. Even in January, the store didn’t sell sweats and parkas. He’d wait until they found more practical clothes. Right now, they needed to get on the road and put as much distance between her and Victor Ramos as possible.
Trees led her to the front of the store. The checkout lines were clogged, and he picked the shortest one, behind a sixty-something woman with a pair of teenage grandkids dressed in theme-park shirts, seemingly more interested in their phones than their surroundings, and braced himself for a wait. He scanned the nearby faces. The older woman sent them a kind smile.
Laila frowned, so Trees tried to act normal and smile in return. After all, she was seemingly someone’s grandma. She’d done nothing wrong.
“Are you on your honeymoon?” the silver-haired woman asked.
Trees didn’t sweat the question. Someone older and more likely to chitchat with strangers was nothing new in a state known for its snowbirds.
At his side, Laila slid him a distressed stare. Because she wasn’t used to small talk? Or nice people in general? It couldn’t be because the woman looked like a threat.
“It’s so sweet to see lovebirds holding hands,” she added. “So I assumed…”
“No,” he finally answered. “It’s not our honeymoon.”
“Vacation? Romantic getaway? Babymoon?”
Thankfully, her questions gave him an idea. “We’re seeing some of the country before our first baby comes.”
“So your wife is pregnant?” The nosy stranger sounded excited.
“Not yet, but we’re…trying.” When Laila stiffened, Trees shuffled her behind him.
She dug her nails into his back.
“Best of luck to you both.” The woman’s smile widened. “Enjoy your trip.”
“We will,” he assured.
No one else seemed to care as the woman paid for her purchases, guided her phone-obsessed grandkids toward the door, and left with a wave.
Then the cashier started slinging his items across the scanner, and a teenage boy schlepped them into bags. Because Trees was a cautious bastard, he paid cash for everything, managing to wedge Laila between him and the counter for the brief moments he needed both hands.
Once their bags were in the cart, Trees gripped Laila’s hand again and dragged her through the exit, into the brightly lit parking lot.
When they reached the RV, he cuffed her to the passenger door once more, carried the bags inside, then hopped down to return the cart to the corral.
Suddenly, Laila gasped, the sound so rife with terror he whirled to face the potential threat. The same black Mercedes from the alley—he remembered the plates—rolled slowly through the parking lot. They were looking for someone.
He’d bet that someone was Laila.
“Fuck.” Trees shoved the cart into another aisle, ducked into the lumbering vehicle, and started the engine.
Fear cascaded through Laila in a paralyzing drizzle as the sedan rolled past, two aisles in front of them. The car wasn’t parking. No one emerged to shop. Like last time, the occupants seemed to be on the hunt.
If that was Victor, how had he found her again? Why couldn’t she be free of men trying to control her life?
Without flipping on the RV’s headlights, Trees pulled out of the parking spot before the sedan made its turn onto the nearest aisle. He hugged the shadowy edge of the parking lot before disappearing behind the big-box store. Laila kept watching out the windows until the sedan, still cruising at a careful pace, dropped from sight.
“Are you wearing anything they could be tracking?” Trees demanded as he steered the vehicle out of the parking lot and engaged the headlights.
“What do you mean?” She frowned as she watched him merge into traffic.
“Did he ever give you jewelry or clothing or—”
“Yes.” Laila couldn’t look at him. She hated to think about having once accepted Victor’s and Hector’s “kindness” so naively. “But I no longer have those things. I left Emilo’s compound in nothing but a bath towel.”
He frowned. “I heard that.”
Laila didn’t believe the concern or empathy or whatever that note in his voice was. “You were not part of the extraction team. Why?”
“I was sick.” He grimaced, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I ate sushi from a truck stop and ended up in the hospital.”
It seemed difficult to believe anyone sane would do something so foolish. “Neither was Kane Preston.”
As Trees rolled through a yellow light and continued north, he checked behind him again, then seemed to relax. “This is his first day on the job. Are you wondering if we actually work for EM Security? Is that the problem? Call Walker now. He’ll tell you.”