Page 38 of The Highwaymen

“So what’s the plan, man?” Tammy asked, flicking her lighter.

I grunted, tapping my fingers on the worn steering wheel. “We head up 395 toward Reno. Stick to the back highways long as we can 'til we cross outta California. Romeo and his boys'll have eyes on I-5 and the southern routes.”

“Reno?” Tammy exhaled a plume of smoke, her brassy blonde hair whipping in the hot wind from the open window. “I always wanted to go back to Vegas. That’s where me and Deacon got married.”

“This look like a fuckin' vacation to you?” I growled, my knuckles whitening on the wheel. “We're runnin' for our damn lives here. Gotta stay low, off the radar.”

My eyes flicked to the rearview, scanning for any sign of a tail. Just the empty highway stretching out behind us, wavering in the heat. But I knew it was only a matter of time before Romeo caught our scent. The bastard had eyes and ears everywhere.

Ipushed the accelerator down, urging my rig faster. The big diesel engine rumbled, the cab shaking as we picked up speed. Beside me, Jamie stirred, letting out a soft moan.

“Stu...” he mumbled, shifting restlessly. “Where...?”

“Go back to sleep, kid,” I said gruffly. “Still got a long way to go.”

I chewed on my lip, mulling it over as the miles rolled by. Maybe Tammy was onto something with this Vegas idea. Sin City was a good place to get lost for a while, disappear into the crowd. Plenty of shady motels where we could hole up, tend to the kid's wounds. Let things blow over with Romeo.

I glanced at Jamie again, a strange tightness in my chest. He looked so damn young and vulnerable curled up in the seat like that, his pretty face slack with exhaustion, those sinful lips parted slightly. An unfamiliar urge to protect him swept through me.

Fuck. I was going soft. Losing my edge. This was exactly why I didn't do partners, didn't get close to anyone. Attachments made you weak, clouded your judgment. But somehow this crazy kid had gotten under my skin.

“All right,” I grunted, making the call. “Vegas it is. But we play it smart, keep our heads down.”

“And then we go after the motherfucker who murdered my Dee-Dee?” Tammy asked, taking a long drag on her cigarette.

I grunted noncommittally in response to Tammy's question, my mind still churning. Part of me wanted blood for blood, to hunt down the sick fuck who'd tortured Deacon to death. But another part, the cold pragmatic part, knew that a quest for vengeance was a good way to wind up dead myself. Or worse, to get the kid killed.

I glanced over at Jamie again. He was still out cold, his chest rising and falling evenly. In sleep, the hard lines of his face softened, making him look almost innocent.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Tammy asked.

“Shut it,” I growled, shooting her a warning glare.

But she didn’t listen. “The way you look at him reminds me of how Deacon used to look at me when we first got together, all steam and sex. Goddamn, I’m gonna miss that fucker.”

I didn't say anything, just kept my eyes on the road ahead. Love. What a fucking joke. I didn't know the meaning of the word. Never had, never would.

Jamie stirred again, letting out a soft whimper. Without thinking, I reached over and rested my hand on his thigh, my thumb rubbing soothing circles through the soft cotton scrubs. He settled instantly.

Fuck. I was in trouble. Deep fucking trouble.

I snatched my hand away, curling it into a fist on the wheel. I had to stay focused, remember the plan. Get to Vegas, lie low, wait for the heat to die down. Then I could figure out my next move.

But even as I told myself that, I knew it was a lie. There was no next move, no going back to the way things were before. Jamie had changed everything, flipped my world ass over teakettle. And now I was stuck with him, for better or worse.

The Proud Mary rumbleddown the Strip, her chrome flashing under the neon lights that lit up the desert night. Towering casinos rose up on either side, their garish facades promising every viceimaginable. A seedy sea of pawn shops, strip clubs, and wedding chapels filled the gaps between the gambling meccas.

I eased my rig into the flow of traffic, just another anonymous big rig swallowed up by the glitz and grime of Sin City. Billboards flashed past, hawking everything from high-class call girls to all-you-can-eat buffets. It was the kind of town where you could satisfy any appetite, no matter how depraved. Where no one asked too many questions as long as you had cash to burn.

Jamie stirred in the passenger seat as we cruised past Circus Circus, the big top casino where vacationing rubes came to piss away their life savings. “We're here?” he mumbled groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Welcome to Vegas, kid,” I grunted.

Tammy leaned forward from the sleeper cab. “First time?” she asked as Jamie blinked owlishly at all the neon and flashing lights.

Jamie nodded slowly, his eyes wide as he took in the spectacle of the Strip at night. “Yeah.”

There was something in his voice, a hint of old pain that made me glance over at him sharply. I remembered what he'd told me about the trucker who'd picked him up when he was just a punk kid hustling tricks on the road. The sick fuck who'd held him captive, brutalized him.

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