both awake until the sun had arched its way high in the sky.
Of course, they were no more friends than they were lovers. Once their romp in the sack was complete and she was able to move, she would retreat to her own bed and tell him she hated him. But she didn't hate him; not really. She hated herself for wanting him the way she did and she hated not being able to stop herself from bedding him every day.
Allison would only hate him if she knew he wasn't as out of control as she was.
Brad unlocked the car as they crossed the parking lot to it from the all-night diner where they'd just eaten. After three weeks of living on fast food, they'd finally treated themselves to a real meal. It wasn't as though they had to be as careful now as they had in the beginning. There'd been no sign of assassins or cops.
"That was good pie," he said.
"Yours was better."
He gave her a funny look over the top of the car. "Well, I won't be baking any pies for a while so that'll have to do."
Allison mumbled something about having better things to do at the motel than bake a pie, but since she was getting into the car, he didn't really catch it. Good thing, too. They'd been able to keep those two aspects – car and motel – completely separate. They didn't discuss what went on in the hotel while driving and they didn't have any witty banter in bed.
He slipped his drink into the cup holder and started the engine. After a few miles of driving, something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. "Can you find something on the radio? I'm sick of road noise."
"Oh, so I'm not interesting company any more? I get it," she teased as she ran through the stations.
While her attention was occupied, Brad glanced in his mirrors again and silently removed his gun, sliding it onto the seat at his hip. Perhaps he was being paranoid, he thought while gently easing off the accelerator. Perhaps not.
Who drove in the dead of night with their lights off?
"There. That's a good song. Go back."
Allison glared over at him and put on the song he'd just heard. "Figures you would like this one."
"What?" He grinned over at her, letting his eyes scan the scene out the back window in the process. " Getting Away With Murder is sort of my theme song."
It was definitely a tail; Brad was certain of it. But was it the government or just the cops? One of those would be much trickier than the other.
They were still too far back, but it had to be a government operative. A cop would have turned on the lights and sirens by now. He completely removed his foot from the accelerator and let the car's speed drop to under thirty miles per hour, forcing the tail to slow way down or run into them.
They slowed, maintaining the distance.
"You didn't forget to fill up the tank, did you, Markenson?"
"No." He checked the rearview mirror a final time. "Waverly, you'd better make sure your seatbelt is fastened."
"What's going on? You're scaring me."
Brad didn't respond, waiting instead for the metallic clink of compliance.
He mashed the gas pedal to the floor and the car leapt into action. It may be a plain-jane car, but it had more than enough get up and go, specifically selected for this very situation. "Hold on."
"What are you doing?"
"Taking a drive."
The tail flipped their lights on and began to close the distance. Allison's eyes widened in response. "Oh, God. They're here."
"Yeah." Brad reached for his cup and took a calm sip from his straw before replacing it.
"You're fucking kidding me with this!" Allison's knuckles were white from their death grip on the sides of her seat.
"What? I was thirsty."
The black sedan rammed them from behind and Allison let out an ear-piercing scream.
"You've got to stop that, princess, or you're going to make me wreck. That scenario doesn't work out so well for you."
The sedan rammed them again and Brad cut the wheel to the left and hit the brake, bringing them next to their assailant before cutting the wheel back to the right, slamming
Of course, they were no more friends than they were lovers. Once their romp in the sack was complete and she was able to move, she would retreat to her own bed and tell him she hated him. But she didn't hate him; not really. She hated herself for wanting him the way she did and she hated not being able to stop herself from bedding him every day.
Allison would only hate him if she knew he wasn't as out of control as she was.
Brad unlocked the car as they crossed the parking lot to it from the all-night diner where they'd just eaten. After three weeks of living on fast food, they'd finally treated themselves to a real meal. It wasn't as though they had to be as careful now as they had in the beginning. There'd been no sign of assassins or cops.
"That was good pie," he said.
"Yours was better."
He gave her a funny look over the top of the car. "Well, I won't be baking any pies for a while so that'll have to do."
Allison mumbled something about having better things to do at the motel than bake a pie, but since she was getting into the car, he didn't really catch it. Good thing, too. They'd been able to keep those two aspects – car and motel – completely separate. They didn't discuss what went on in the hotel while driving and they didn't have any witty banter in bed.
He slipped his drink into the cup holder and started the engine. After a few miles of driving, something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. "Can you find something on the radio? I'm sick of road noise."
"Oh, so I'm not interesting company any more? I get it," she teased as she ran through the stations.
While her attention was occupied, Brad glanced in his mirrors again and silently removed his gun, sliding it onto the seat at his hip. Perhaps he was being paranoid, he thought while gently easing off the accelerator. Perhaps not.
Who drove in the dead of night with their lights off?
"There. That's a good song. Go back."
Allison glared over at him and put on the song he'd just heard. "Figures you would like this one."
"What?" He grinned over at her, letting his eyes scan the scene out the back window in the process. " Getting Away With Murder is sort of my theme song."
It was definitely a tail; Brad was certain of it. But was it the government or just the cops? One of those would be much trickier than the other.
They were still too far back, but it had to be a government operative. A cop would have turned on the lights and sirens by now. He completely removed his foot from the accelerator and let the car's speed drop to under thirty miles per hour, forcing the tail to slow way down or run into them.
They slowed, maintaining the distance.
"You didn't forget to fill up the tank, did you, Markenson?"
"No." He checked the rearview mirror a final time. "Waverly, you'd better make sure your seatbelt is fastened."
"What's going on? You're scaring me."
Brad didn't respond, waiting instead for the metallic clink of compliance.
He mashed the gas pedal to the floor and the car leapt into action. It may be a plain-jane car, but it had more than enough get up and go, specifically selected for this very situation. "Hold on."
"What are you doing?"
"Taking a drive."
The tail flipped their lights on and began to close the distance. Allison's eyes widened in response. "Oh, God. They're here."
"Yeah." Brad reached for his cup and took a calm sip from his straw before replacing it.
"You're fucking kidding me with this!" Allison's knuckles were white from their death grip on the sides of her seat.
"What? I was thirsty."
The black sedan rammed them from behind and Allison let out an ear-piercing scream.
"You've got to stop that, princess, or you're going to make me wreck. That scenario doesn't work out so well for you."
The sedan rammed them again and Brad cut the wheel to the left and hit the brake, bringing them next to their assailant before cutting the wheel back to the right, slamming
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