Page 7 of Sawyer

“No, but, Sawyer, I wouldn’t fuck with him if I were you.” He shakes his head and starts the van. “He looks like the kind of guy who shoots first and doesn’t ask any questions.”

“Yeah, he does.” I twist my face up and hum under my breath before I turn to Freddy.

“Don’t do it.” He’s already shaking his head, his red hair flopping all over his head. “That look… Dammit, Sawyer, whatever you have planned, I want nothing to do with it.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to say,” I argue.

Growling, he pulls away from the side of the road, leaving the enforcers behind. “No, I know you, and I know that look on your face.”

“What’s it saying?”

“That you are about to do something very fucking stupid,” he replies.

He’s right, of course. “Then I’ll drop you off, and you can claim plausible deniability.”

“Dammit, Sawyer. One of these days, you are going to get yourself killed,” he says and heads toward his townhouse.

I give him five, four, three, two…

“Dammit!” He jerks the wheel at the split in the road and heads toward a small country road that leads up the mountain. It won’t get us far, but it’s better than nothing.

“I won’t go live,” I tell him.

“Oh, she has some self-preservation,” Freddy snarks.

I don’t… “You’re going to record every moment.” I kick off my heels and toss them into the back. This requires hiking boots. “I counted two bodies. I bet there’s more, and I’m going to find them first.”

Sawyer

“You don’t want to think about this first?” Freddy pulls the van to the side of a dirt road and immediately throws it into park. The engine crackles and shudders before it shuts down completely, with only a few ticks here and there.

I tighten my coat around my torso to keep warm and grab a black knit hat out of the glove box. The altitude gets to me every single time, and my body grows cold just at the thought of getting out of this van. “Either you’re with me or you aren’t, Freddy.”

“Dammit, Sawyer, you know I’m with you.” He doesn’t sound so sure. If there is one thing I can count on, it isn’t Freddy.

The only thing I can count on is being woken up every single morning by the bakery under my apartment with the scent of fresh bread and pastries.

Freddy will flip-flop until we see a body. As much as I would love to have him out here with me, I understand his hesitance. I really do get us into some disturbing situations. He is also a pansy who is in love with me. He thinks I don’t see it, but I do, and I’ll never use it to my advantage.

I won’t ever be that person. If he wants to go, then he should go.

His thumb taps the steering wheel, and the scent of fried tomatoes fills the cab of the van. It’s an awful scent, and one I’ll never get used to. It’s Freddy, and while he is a beta, when his emotions run wild and high, that is what he smells like.

I’ll never tell him that, though, because then I’d give away just what I do on those lunch breaks, and I can’t have that either.

“Look, Freddy…” I reach behind me and grab the spare socks I keep in the pocket of the seat and pull them on. “I get it, okay? The big guy came in and kicked us out, and if we search for something else, it’s our asses on the line.”

“I just…” He grumbles under his breath.

“Go.” I shove a foot into a boot a little harder than necessary. “Head back to the newsroom. Can you cover for me at least?”

“And say what?” he asks, and I can already see his shoulders sagging in relief.

Pansy.

“Tell the boss man that I had to head to the healer and get my clamshell inspected.” I lace my last boot and open the door. Cold air slaps me in the face, stinging my skin.

“Sawyer, I did not need to know that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, his cheeks flush a bright red, and he looks at me in mock horror.

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