Page 72 of Breaking Storm

Her eyes are wide, head swaying, looking out the windows as the tears blur her vision.

“Call Sean.” She hesitates and I repeat it louder.

Fumbling with the phone, Teagan dials Sean and puts it on speaker phone. When he answers, I tell him what happened, which is the first Teagan hears of it.

“Take the money, my mom, and disappear.”

Sean swears under his breath. “Where are you going, Joe?”

I’m on the Indiana Toll Road, about to head north to the Michigan border. So far, no one has been following us.

He asks again, and I say, “I don’t know yet. We have our burner phones and list of numbers. We’ll keep in touch that way, rotating the phones and numbers.”

“Be careful, Joe.”

“You too.”

The line disconnects. Teagan is crying next to me. She hasn’t asked another question, too much in shock.

I reach over, grab her hand, and give it a little squeeze. “Listen to me, Tea. The next available small town in Michigan, I’m going to drop you off. You’ll take the duffle—”

She grabs my arm, staring at me in horror. “Wait! No! Why do you want to get rid of me?”

“Because you’re in danger if you stay.” I let it sink in. “Take the duffle bag of money. There are new IDs for you. Choose one and make a new life for yourself.”

With a sideways glance, tears are streaming down her face, and her shoulders are convulsing. She tries to say something, but her sobbing interrupts, and then she takes deep breaths.

When she’s somewhat steady, mopping up her face, she says, “I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, you are, Tea. Every criminal in this country will be out to get me. To kill me. You stay, and you’ll end up dead as well.” She’s shaking her head. “I won’t put your life on the line.”

Teagan sobs again, covering her face with her hands. It kills me to see her in this state. Unfortunately, I can’t take the time to console her. I need to find a little town where she’ll be safe. A place that will give her what she deserves, which is a chance.

There’s ten minutes left of my hour lead. I’ll be over the Michigan border by then. I let Tea release her grief. There’s nothing I can do right now. I get off the highway, onto some back woods road, and come across a used car shop. It’s no bigger than a gas station, cars lined up next to each other in all forms of needed repair. I’m sure Frankie put a GPS on my SUV while we were in the house. Leaving Teagan in the car, I hop out to talk to a guy who hasn’t had a dental plan his whole life. I hand over a wad of cash, offer him the SUV, and transfer everything into a rusty, red sedan, along with Teagan, and take off. The car doesn’t have license plates. Down the road is a little grocery store. Aside from an old lady and a teenager in the store, no one else is in the vicinity. I squat down behind a car and unscrew the license plates to put on the sedan. Once in the car, I stay on the dirt road, reading signs to the Michigan border.

My hour was up twenty minutes ago. Over the border, I check the mirrors, turning east onto a small, two-lane road. Teagan’s heaves have lessened. She looks dazed, wrapping her arms around her waist, cuddling into my side on the bench seat. When there was gunfire after my fight, it rattled her. But this, this is far beyond scary. It’s a death sentence.

Another half hour and we’re driving through a quaint Michigan town. Stores run along each side of main street, and a park resides at the north end of it. I steer the car over to the park, shut off the engine, and turn in my seat to face Teagan.

I reach for her reddened, swollen face. Even after an ugly cryfest, she’s beautiful, setting her lighter denim blue eyes on me. Her cheek presses into my palm. I love this woman. To not wake next to her, smell and taste her, is going to break me. She’s strengthened me, and now I have to let her go. Let her live. There’s a tightening in my chest. I breathe through my nose, nostrils flaring, and blow out a heavy breath through my mouth. The prodding of tears pierce the back of my eyes and nose. I gulp them down because I can’t break. I need my head on straight for her sake.

“You’re going to be okay. There’s more than enough money to last until you’re on your feet.” She traps my hand between hers and her cheek. “I love you, Tea.”

In a raspy tone, she responds, “Then don’t leave me.”

My face twists into a pained expression. I pull her onto my lap, hands tangling and tightening in her hair, and I give her the most intense kiss I could muster now. All my love pours into the kiss.

“I’m letting you gobecauseI love you.”

Teagan catches a sob in her throat, swallows, and says, “I love you, too, Joey. That’s why I want to stay with you.”

“No. I’m not risking your life.”

She fists my coat, tugging closer to me. “It’s my life to risk, not yours.”

Our foreheads rest together. Her tears drip between us, and she wipes her hand across her nose. She’s a disheveled mess, but she’smydisheveled mess. Our eyes search our faces for approval. An answer.

“Your life includes college. Maybe a white picket—”