clearly.
He looked right, then left. As he turned his head back to center, he saw her moving out of the corner of his eye. Hair flying, legs pumping as she raced to him, catching him at his chest as she catapulted her ass onto the seat. As before, she pounded his shoulders as she screamed, "go, go, go !"
He did as instructed.
Chapter Eleven
I don't know how he did it, but Bayco found yet another park for us to eat the fast food breakfast we'd stopped to get. I barely remembered the ride since my heart was still doing its rabbit imitation as we rode through the wakening streets of North Platte.
We'd both finished our breakfasts, although we hadn't eaten much of what he'd bought. In fact, our mouths hadn't moved much at all since we'd peeled out of the motel's driveway.
"We will carry out our plan as before since they will need to regroup," he said finally, sounding like he was starting our conversation in the middle of whatever was in his head. I saw him pull out his cellphone and check the time. "Only instead of going to the Harley store first, we will head to the other since it is open twenty-four hours."
"Okay," I acknowledged. "Big store first. Harley store second."
My body was trying to shake off the effects of the stress from our fast escape but it was slow to go. The arms I wrapped tight around my waist were no longer cutting it in the self- soothing department. I reached for my purse and pulled out my hairbrush. I started at the ends on the mess of my windblown hair, working my way through the tangles until it was smooth enough for me to turn on the plastic bench of the picnic table and bend my head over. I moved the bristles from my neck to the ends using the pressure of the sharp points as well as the stroking motion to help me relax.
My eyes caught on Bayco's as I flipped my head back.
"What?" I asked sharply. I almost felt like I'd been caught on the toilet, in a private moment, from the expression on his face.
"You have very beautiful hair," he said simply, his eyes never leaving mine.
"So you've said," I huffed, pulling the extra hair out of the brush, tossing the strands onto the grass before stowing it away.
"A typical American response to a compliment is, 'thank you'," he corrected.
"If my body or my looks were something I had anything to do with, then I'd thank you. But they aren't, so I won't," I grumbled. I broke from our shared look and moved my eyes to follow the birds flitting from tree to tree.
We were the only people in the park, but I didn't feel like we were alone between all the birds and the traffic that was beginning to pick up on the streets that surrounded us. It was just another Wednesday for most people, the most mundane of days as they made their way to their jobs or school or where ever they had to be at whatever time. The smell of the exhaust from their cars didn't overtake the smell of the fresh green grass, though. "Did you kill him?"
He didn't answer so I shot a glance his way only to see him still looking at me with the same expression as before; an expression I couldn't read.
"Would it bother you if I had?" he asked after a few heartbeats of time.
I turned his question around in my head before answering honestly. "I don't know. If it would stop Louie from finding me, then, no."
"Good answer," he replied softly as he reached for our overstuffed take-out bag and his jacket. "Are you calm enough to shop now?"
I could only nod as I stood, pulling the strap of my purse over my head before settling the backpack again on my shoulders.
But I was thankful for his fingers catching mine, to hold my hand, as we walked back to where he'd parked the bike. The heat of his hand provided much more comfort than I was willing to admit, even to myself. A comfort whose need I found infuriating.
*.*.*.*.*
Brand rubbed his hand over the velvet stubbles of his head, the only remaining pieces of his hair after she'd used the
Helen Harper
Heidi Rice
Elliot Paul
Melody Grace
Jim Laughter
Gina Azzi
Freya Barker
Norah-Jean Perkin
Whisper His Name
Paddy Ashdown