Blood to Dust (34 page)

“Stop the car,” I order Prescott, whose face is paler than chalk. She saw it too.

Pea turns her head from side to side, trying to make sure that it’s safe to slide onto the shoulder of the road. I slam my fist against the console.

“Pull the fuck over, Prescott.”

When she does, I open the passenger door, stumble out of the car, and try to take as much air into my lungs as I can. Everyone’s after me. After
us
. Me? I know what I’m facing. Life in prison or death. But Pea, she doesn’t deserve this kind of crappy life. We need to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Bending down, my hands over my knees, I draw in deep breaths and feel her hand circling my sweaty back with her comforting touch.

“I love you,” is all she says. I take a few moments before turning around to face her.

If we’re being fair, how come this whole world is so unfair to us?

“This is going to shit,” I grit.

“But it’s still going there with
you
. Nice journey, if you ask me.” Her smile makes me want to breathe regularly again, so I try. This girl is dealing with a missing brother, loser father, MIA mother and a violent abortion. And she still smiles.
For me
.

I straighten up and hook my arm over her shoulder, pulling her into my chest.

“Cockburn—” I start.

“I know,” she says, cutting me off. “We can’t afford to stay here. We’re taking Godfrey down tonight, then driving to Vallejo to see Preston and then getting on the first flight to London to deal with Camden. We have enough for tickets, right?”

Preston is not in Vallejo
, a guttural scream tickles my throat, ready to jump out, but I just nod. “Plenty.”

“Good. Nate?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re getting out of this.”

“You bet your fucking ass we are.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I fucking love you too, Baby Cockburn.”

Nighttime falls on California by the time I see the blues and reds bouncing on and off my rearview mirror. I’m trying to remain calm, tapping on the steering wheel to the tune of “Hotel California” on the radio, but inside, I’m a mess.

The police are asking us to pull over, and there’s no way we can get around that.

Nate is sitting next to me, his face blank, the money neatly rolled and stuffed under his seat, well hidden.

Is this how we’re going to end? After everything we’ve been through? A police car stopping us in the middle of the road?

I slide to the shoulder, resting both hands firmly on the steering wheel after combing my blonde hair and sitting straight like a good schoolgirl. Nate’s jaw is clenched and he is looking ahead, on the road.

He can’t break.

I won’t let him.

Not now, after everything we’ve achieved.

A chubby officer in a dark blue uniform with a flashlight saunters from his SUV straight up to my door. He flashes the light in my face, before arranging his belt on his round stomach.

“License and registration,” he commands, his flashlight traveling to Nate’s face. My heart is beating so fast I’m on the verge of breaking down in tears. Instead, I take out my wallet from my backpack and pluck my real California license, under my legitimate name. Nate might be wanted, but I’m still just a groomed kid from Blackhawk to the unsuspecting world.

Although I know that if the cop recognizes Nate, it’s all over for me. I’m going down with him. Nate knows that, too, because his eyes almost roll out of their sockets in amazement when I hand the officer my driver’s license. His hand twitches next to his thigh, and I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid to try and spare me.

I don’t want to be spared, I want to be his.

“Prescott Burlington-Smyth,” the officer repeats my name, looking at my paperwork. I nod curtly. “I need your companion’s ID, too.”

“Sure. Chris?” I smile sweetly to Christopher Delaware. Reluctantly, he pulls out his passport, and I pass it along. The officer’s brows pinch together.

“No driver’s license?”

“Lost my wallet,” Nate fires. “Waiting for a new one to arrive.”

“Funny.” The officer flips through his passport. “I see no stamps on this thing. Brand new. Planning to go somewhere?”

“Mexico,” Nate answers calmly. “Family vacation.”

“Huh.”

This is going bad, I know, but what can we do? Run away? We will only draw even more unwanted attention. Tapping the steering wheel with my fingers and swallowing loudly, I look exactly like I feel—a fireball of nerves, on the verge of exploding.

“Ma’am, is everything all right?” The officer sticks his head into my window, and I open my mouth, about to say everything is great, when he takes a step back and yanks his belt over his big belly.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

My fingers are shaking as I punch the unlock button and my head swivels in Nate’s direction. He looks taut, severe; his forehead wrinkled into an expression I’ve never seen on him before. It’s the first time he looks less than the most delicious and confident man on earth.

“Forgive me,” he whispers.

“For what?” Tears tickle the back of my eyeballs, and I feel my lungs shutting down. I’m drowning, unable to come up for air. I need to breathe, but an impending catastrophe is threatening me.

Please don’t try and save me
, I beg him with my eyes.
I’ve only known you for a short time, but I already can’t live without you.

“I want you alive and protected. This ends here.”

“Ma’am, I said step out of the vehicle.” The cop’s screechy voice is louder now, grating on each one of my nerves.

“Nate, no!” I call, punching the dashboard as he yanks out the gun we got from Seb and squeezes it to my temple. I’m shaking all over. The officer steps back and lowers himself to get a better look at what is unfolding before him. His mouth hangs open and his eyes grow wide.

“Tell the bitch to step out of the car. I kidnapped her for the money and now I don’t need her anymore. I want the car and the cash, but most of all, I want her fucking gone. Do it,” Nate says coldly.

Jesus Christ, no!

He’s throwing himself under the bus for me.
Again
.

“Get out of the car,” he repeats, his voice like steel. “Out. Before I put a bullet in your fucking skull.”

“Ma’am, I ask you to step out of the vehicle immediately,” the officer says.

Nate knows exactly what he’s doing. If I step out of this mess right now, they’re going to either arrest him, if he doesn’t run away—or kill him, if he tries. As for me, I could walk away unscathed. But that’s not what I want. Not what I signed up for. We’re in this together, and I don’t care if he’s wanted by the police, Godfrey, the Aryan Brotherhood
and
the FBI.

“Beat,” I warn. It makes no difference whether the officer recognized Nate or not, because every version of him is breaking approximately five thousand rules in a row right now.

“Get out,” he says, this time almost pleadingly. The look on his face tears me to shreds from inside. “It was a cool ride, but we’re done here. Save your ass, Pea.” Then, on a whisper only I can hear. “
Please.
”

In the background, the officer is calling for backup while begging me to step away from the car. There’s a lot of commotion, more blue and red lights approach us, and the gun is still glued to my temple. Nate’s eyes are beseeching. He really does want me to get up and leave, even though it was my idea to send the world up in flames. He was getting by just fine until I barged into his life.

And now he wants to take my heat? To burn in hell for my sins?

This guy is delusional. I’m not leaving him. Ever.

“Screw you,” I mutter, revving up the engine and throwing the car into drive. I almost run over the officer’s feet as I pump the gas several times to gain more speed. The acrid scent of burnt rubber seeps into my nose and I open my mouth, gulping air. Say what you want to say about this car, but it is
fast
. Faster than Stella, God bless her heart. Or engine, in this case.

“What the fuck!” Nate yells while the car shimmies under the strain of its new speed. “What. The. Fuck?! Do you realize what you’ve just done? Why? Why, Cockburn? Why are you fucking your life up to try and save an asswipe with no future?” He is yelling and punching his seat, the door, everything around him but me. Though I suspect I’m the only thing he wants to punch right now. “I’m done, but you can still go and live in fucking Iowa, which, by the way, was the home of the person who invented sliced bread. Did you know that? I do. You know why? Because I googled the shit out of the place you want to live in. Because I love you. Because I fucking need you alive and safe! Pull over right now and go with Officer Incompetent before it’s too late. Do it fucking now.”

“No!” I pump the gas again, sliding off the highway and onto a side road. The officer didn’t even have a chance to get into his cruiser yet, but I know that soon enough, the police are going to be on our tail.

I hope it doesn’t end up on television. I always wonder who those idiots are who actually run away from the police. Well, now
they’re us
.

“I’m not leaving you,” I tell him. “And I already told you, Iowa is out of the picture.”

“I’ll shoot you.” He jams the gun in my ribs. Numbing pain spreads across the area. I don’t flinch.

“You won’t.” I say calmly. “You love me.”

“Fuck!” he kicks the dashboard with his long leg, unable to contain his boiling frustration. “Cockburn, I don’t want you to be locked up for life. Please, please,” he begs, gluing his palms together, the gun clasped between them. “Pull over and let them take you. They’ll take care of Godfrey. I’ll tell them I killed Seb myself. Please, Prescott.”

“No.”

He grows quiet for a moment, rolling his lower lip in his fingers as he always does when he thinks.

“I’ll kill myself.” He suddenly aims the gun at the base of his throat, just under his Adam’s apple, which is decorated with dancing flames and laughing demons. “Do it, Cockburn. I won’t ask again.”

“Guns are for pussies,” I hiss his words back at him, not even sparing him a glance, my focus solely on the road ahead. “You’ll never kill yourself. Let alone with a gun.”

We’re riding deeper into the dense woods. What woods? Who the hell knows? I have no idea where we are, only that we’re heading north. Shit. If I accidentally wandered into Yosemite Park, I’d never know how to get out of there. Finally, Beat pulls the gun away from his neck and shakes his head.

“What are you doing, Baby-Cakes?”

“I have no idea.” My tears make another frustrating cameo. “But I’d like to find out with you by my side.”

Rubbing his knuckles against his cheek, he exhales loudly. I silently pray for him to come up with a plan, any plan, that can get us out of the woods.

“Break back south. We’ll look for somewhere residential. Gotta ditch this car and find another.”

Veering out of the woods, we get back on a highway, its lanes divided by a long set of tall trees. We’re heading south, flashing by a row of police cars making their way north, presumably to try and find us. Soon, we stumble upon a real gem. It’s a small town, deserted, or at the very least not fully occupied. Darkness engulfs us, unlit by city lights, and it takes us exactly three minutes to dump the Camaro in a swamp and break into a white Kia Soul. Talk about keeping a low profile. There’s an unwritten rule somewhere that you can’t purchase a Kia Soul unless you’re between the ages of forty and eighty or have at least three whiny kids in the backseat.

Nate sighs in relief when he slides into the driver’s seat and rests his forehead against the steering wheel, relishing the feeling of space between his legs and the pedals. I bet it’s a lot nicer for him than the Corvette or the Camaro.

“I’m going to ask once again. Do you still want to go through with Godfrey, or do you want us to drive straight to SFO and board the first plane out of this goddamned country? Forget about Vallejo. We can always come back when shit cools down.”

I fall back against my seat and fold my hands over my lap. I know what he wants to hear. He wants to hear that we’re getting out of here as long as we can.
If
we still can. The more time we waste, the greater our chances of getting caught.

But I can’t have Godfrey walking around free and happy, and I definitely can’t leave without knowing what happened to my brother. Life wouldn’t be worth living that way.

“He still has a piece of my soul,” I say, not daring to lift my eyes to see what’s in his. “And my brother is the only reason I didn’t give up on life.”

There’s a brief silence before he nods.

“Then let’s get them.”