Page 9 of Keeping Her Safe

He needed them to get going before he spent too much time staring at her in his childhood bedroom, realizing she had slept in his bed dozens of times. Though the bed was gone, the picture of her in it was crystal clear. It didn’t help that she was standing in the middle of the room in her pajamas and biting her lip like a nervous teenager.

“Zephyr, we have to go,” he repeated. This time he forced himself to leave her in the room. Throwing on a T-shirt, he stuffed the last of his things in his bag, then picked it up and turned around to leave.

She had followed him and was standing in the doorway. All he wanted to do was grab her into his arms and never let go; never let anything bad ever happen to her. What he did was physically turned her around and push her out of the door and down the hallway.

“Zachary, do you have a sweatshirt I can wear?” she asked as he pushed her along.

“Zephyr, I have nothing that will fit you.” His hands were on her back, and he felt her stiffen at his words. He didn’t have time to decode women tonight. He needed to get this city behind them as soon as possible.

Over the next hour, they made it out of the city and into the open countryside. Since he wasn’t taking interstates, the trip would take longer than it usually did, but Zephyr said nothing during the drive, staying silent since they’d left his house. She was still clenching the computer to her chest.

As the second hour wore on, his phone rang. It was Travis, and he had no useful information at the beach house and nothing to identify the guy. The guy was long gone.

To Travis, he said, “I need you to book two seats out of Miami around 11:00 a.m. To Minneapolis. Yes, me and the Mrs.”

After a few minutes, Zephyr said, “I can’t go on a plane.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. I have no ID. I left my wallet behind.”

“I have identification for you,” he said. She was never going to travel under her real name. What’s the use leaving if the trail to find her was so easy?

“Okay, I also have no clothes. I can’t go in public like this,” she protested, vaguely gesturing to herself.

“Half the women on the plane will be in sweats. It’s fine.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll buy you clothes when we get there.”

“Can we stop and get a sweatshirt or something?”

“No, but we can get one at the airport. It’ll only be a few hours.”

“Do we need gas before then?” she asked, leaning over to look at his dashboard.

“No, we have a full tank, which should be plenty.” He noticed that every time he shot her idea down, she would nibble on her lip.

“Are the shops at the airport before or after all the lines?” she asked.

“After.”

Again, she fell silent. Something was bothering her. Was it the break-in? Was it finally dawning on her how much danger she was in?

“Zephyr, what’s the matter? Something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing,” Zephyr mumbled.

“Come on, Zephyr, talk to me. We have around two more hours in this car together,” he said and poked her shoulder with his fist.

“It’s nothing you would understand.” She looked out the passenger window.

“Try me.”

“I’m not wearing a bra. I should have put one on, but sometimes I don’t,” she whispered at the window.

“Women don’t wear bras all the time, Zephyr,” he reminded her gently.

“Not me. You don’t understand, Zachary,” she said again.

“Tell me then. Why does it matter?” He didn’t understand what she was talking about. Her breasts were large and beautiful. He had spent hours last night trying not to think about them, trying not to wonder what they would feel like in his hands.

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