“What?”
“I kinda feel bad because it’s Adam’s big wedding weekend and I’m showing up parading around my new wife and child.”
Her brow furrowed. “You’re ashamed of me.”
“No of course not. I love you.”
“Are you sure you want me to come?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Look, how about we take my parents to one side and explain everything, but maybe just not tell Adam and the others until after his wedding. They know I’ve been looking for you, so we can just tell them I found you, but omit the Las Vegas part. We only have to wait another couple of days. Okay?”
“Right. And how are you going to explain Quin?”
Ivan shifted in his seat. “We’ll say you… uh…”
“Got knocked up by some guy I slept with who then went on to fake his own death leaving me with a fatherless child?”
Ivan laughed. “No, come on, don’t be like that. I know they’ll love you, but we just need to approach this slowly. I feel like I’m always stealing Adam’s thunder, you know. By dying, then by being alive… If I stroll back in there tonight with a wife and child, having just got married in Las Vegas… it might not be the best news on the day before his own wedding.”
Samira smiled tenderly. “It’s okay, we can keep our marriage and Quin’s true parentage a secret until after Adam’s wedding. And then on Sunday, when he… oh no…”
Samira stared into the wing mirror at the flashing blue lights behind them. “Shit, Ivan. Don’t stop. They’ll find out I’m an illegal immigrant and deport me.”
“Don’t worry, babe, no one’s taking you away from me. Let me do the talking. It’s not like we’ve got anything unlawful onboard.”
“Apar
t from me.”
Ivan slowed the car, then pulled over to the side of the road and kissed her. “Relax.”
The cop walked slowly toward them and halted beside Ivan. “Good afternoon, sir. Going a bit fast there, huh?”
“Sorry, officer. I’ve got a flight to catch in San Antonio.”
“Oh yeah?” The cop peered into the back and ran his eyes over Samira’s suitcase which they’d thrown in there in the hurry to get away. Ivan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“What’s in the suitcase?” the cop asked.
“Just clothes, officer.”
“Right. Can I see your license, please?”
Ivan grabbed his driver’s license from his wallet – now that he’d got it back from Jake – and handed it over. The cop stared at Samira, scrutinizing her. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”
“Hi,” she mumbled, trying not to let her Iranian accent show.
“I’ll be right back, folks.”
The cop walked off with Ivan’s license, and headed toward his car.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” Ivan said. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
She smiled nervously at him. “I’m just so scared of being separated from you again. Me and Quin love you.”
Ivan reached out and caressed Quin’s cheek. “I love you both too. So much.”
Samira glanced at the cop in her wing mirror. “What’s taking him so long? Oh jeez… this is a stolen car… what if Langdon’s reported us? What if he’s told them what I’ve been doing at the border?”