Page 13 of Fugitive Flirtation

The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. The distance between us is more than just physical—it’s a chasm of broken trust and shattered illusions. I grip the steering wheel tightly, fighting to maintain control over the roiling emotions within me.

Finally, Alicia speaks up, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. “Ace, I’m sorry.”

I let out a harsh laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Alicia.” The words taste like acid on my tongue, a bitter reminder of the betrayal I feel.

“No, that’s not true,” she protests, her voice gaining strength. “I never lied to you. I was scared, yes, but everything I told you was the truth.”

I shake my head, my jaw clenched so tightly I can feel the muscles straining. “How can I believe that now? After you tried to run?” The pain is still fresh and raw in my mind.

Alicia falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rush of the road beneath the tires and the pounding of my heart in my ears. Then, she takes a deep breath and speaks again, her words measured and careful.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have tried to run. But you have to understand, I panicked, and made a mistake.”

I risk a glance at her, and what I see in her eyes is not deceit, but raw vulnerability. She’s laying herself bare, offering me a chance to trust her again. Against my better judgment, I feel a flicker of hope ignite within me. Maybe, just maybe, she’s telling the truth. But the wound of her betrayals is fresh. I’m not sure I can let myself believe her so easily.

“My team and I will finish what got started, but first, I’ve got a mission: I’m taking you to the authorities in Miami,” I say, keeping my voice gruff. My harsh edge is gone. “They’ll sort this out, and if you’re innocent, you’ll be cleared.” I’m not real good at this emotional stuff, but I know I have to see this through, even if it means putting my own feelings aside for now.

Alicia nods, her shoulders sagging.

“Thank you, Ace. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

I don’t respond, focusing my attention on the road ahead. The traffic is hell. Fuck morning rush hour.

I’m glad Ice’s the sort of man who won’t drop the ball. Especially since, right now, I need to know the truth—not only for Alicia’s sake but also for my own peace of mind. A nagging voice in the back of my head wonders if I’ll lose part of my self-respect over this whole ordeal. I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character, able to separate fact from fiction. But now I’m forced to confront the possibility that I may have been blinded, easily fooled by a pretty face and a convincing story of innocence.

The damning evidence that Ghost uncovered plays on a torturous loop in my mind. The money transfers, the accounts… It all points to one inescapable conclusion: Alicia Floyd could very well be guilty as sin of the crimes she’s accused of. And I, the seasoned bounty hunter who prides himself on never being duped, may have fallen for her act hook, line, and sinker like a naive rookie. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth and chips away at my confidence. How could I have been so blind?

10

Ijolt awake as a phone rings.

Ice’s voice booms on the speaker of the car, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“On my way to Miami to deliver the goods,” Ace answers.

“Aren’t you a bit early on schedule?” his boss asks.

“Yeah but I figured…”

“Don’t care,” the man cuts in. “It was a bad idea. So get off at the next exit and come up on a side road back to the office. You’ll probably have company but nothing you can’t handle. Just bring them to us, we’ll be waiting for you.”

Ice hangs up and looks in my direction.

“What?”

“Just making sure you had your seat belt tight.”

A minute later, Ace goes down the ramp and bypasses Alternate A1A to take a smaller road.

“How can we have company?” I ask. “Your decision to take me back to Miami now was sort of spur of the moment thing, no?”

Ace frowns as if debating what he can share with me and then says, “I’m guessing they just leaked intel to check a theory.”

We drive up a couple of blocks. It’s quiet until it’s not… An SUV passes us and swerves to block our way. Tires screech and Ace curses under his breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. In the rearview mirror, I see a sedan gaining on us. Is that our back-up?

“Hold on,” Ace warns, his voice tight with concentration.

I grip the door handle, bracing myself for impact but we don’t hit anything. Ace jerks the wheel, sending us careening onto a side street. The sedan follows, its engine roaring. We pass a school bus and enter a busy street. Ace weaves through traffic, his jaw clenched. “These guys don’t give up easy.”

---