Blood to Dust

Other than him.

“Do you want me to drive?” I try not to sound too panicked.

His face is buried between his arms against the steering wheel, and I see him shaking his head.

“Where to?”

“West. We need to stop by my place, get a credit card, go to the ATM and drive to Concord to get a new ride. Your license plate will be easy to detect.”

He starts the car and throws it into drive, heading for the Stop sign at the end of the street and passing through it unblinking, speeding forward as the highway and darkness swallows the truck. I buckle up, treating myself to a glance at his profile. Magnificent in his beauty and peaceful in expression. Whatever got into him—he overrode it.

He is a switcher, I think. I bet that’s exactly how he looked when he killed his father all those years ago.

“You sure heading home is a good idea? One of Godfrey’s wise guys might be waiting with a fucking Magnum for us.” He leans down, opens the glove compartment and retrieves a pack of gum. He throws a peachy-flavored one into his mouth and chews, offering me the pack with a silent gesture. I put it back in its place without taking one.

“He has no clue where I live. Trust me, if he did, he wouldn’t have targeted me in the middle of Oakland. He would have done it quietly and professionally, plucking me out of my apartment in the middle of the night. My lease is under someone else’s name. I paid her well for it. I don’t leave footprints.”

Nate gives a sharp nod.

“Fake Passports Guy needs to know that we’re on our way,” he reminds me.

“I’ll call him when I get to the apartment. I saved his contact on each and every one of my SIM cards. He owes me big time.” I sit back, trying to let some of the tension roll off my shoulders. I’m out in the open. On a highway. With a beautiful, larger than life man who wants to stick around until we’re both out of the woods. Silk black sky above me, golden sandy hills engulfing the road, I suck a deep breath.

Freedom.

I keep throwing glances over my shoulder, making sure no one is after us. The road is empty. The only witnesses to our deed are the stars, glaring at us like pairs of shimmering eyes, waiting to see how we’ll get out of this mess. Otherwise, it’s just me and him. I like it. What’s scarier is that I could actually get used to this, to being around him.

“Should’ve done it when I first got out,” Nate ponders aloud, sinking his teeth into his lip like I so desperately want to do right now. We’ve spent the last few hours touching and licking and sucking and biting every single piece of flesh on each other’s bodies, and it’s still not enough.

“Everything happened for a reason. You’ll help me finish the Archers and Seb, and I’ll give you money and everything else you need to start fresh. This life has nothing to offer you. You need to start fresh. Under a new name. Under the pretense of someone innocent. You are innocent,” I stretch. “Go to Mexico. Live the life. Get a house by the beach. Start every morning with a margarita. Get a nice tan.”

He offers me one of his gorgeous smirks, looking at me briefly before turning his attention back to the dusky road.

“I’m going to live somewhere the sun’s always shining,” he announces in a voice that’s almost child-like. This is new. And so flipping adorable. “Just like Cali, but less fucking expensive.”

“You deserve it,” I reassure, squeezing his hand that’s resting on the console.

“Hey, Prescott?” he says, after a minute. “Tell me something beautiful.” He squeezes my hand back. “I like your words. You got some solid brain between those slightly big ears.”

I chuckle. My ears are a little bigger than the rest of my head. That’s why my hair is so long.

“’You wanna fly? You got to give up the shit that weighs you down.’ Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon.”

“Good stuff, Pea.”

“I try.”

“No, you don’t. That’s what I fucking like about you.”

I like him too. Not just because he gave me freedom. But because he treats my body more roughly than any of the men who raped me did, yet makes me feel incredibly cherished.

We get to my apartment when it’s still pitch black. It’s weird to be here, in a neighborhood I never thought I’d see again. It looks so normal and oblivious to everything I’ve been through over the past couple of weeks. Nate grabs my hand and rests my knuckles against his lips, willing me to look back at him. I do, and his honey-yellow-greenish-freakish eyes tell me that we’re on the same page.