Page 44 of Final Sins

The seagull outside gave a mocking cry, as if laughing at her indecision.

She strode out of the café and into the tiny market next door. The bell above the door jingled cheerfully. She grabbed a basket, her mind already cataloging essentials. This new safe house was unlikely to rival Redemption Inc.’s cushy setups.

“Peanut butter, crackers, bottled water,” she muttered, navigating narrow aisles. And frozen dinners. Lots of them. Her free hand tapped a restless rhythm against her thigh as she planned her next move.

“Get to the safe house, then authenticate the intel,” she reminded herself, tossing a can of beans into the basket with more force than necessary. The elderly cashier raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

An hour later, she found herself on a winding mountain pass. The old muscle car groaned as it climbed, leaving behind the cool embrace of the redwoods. Chaparral took over, hot and dusty, the air shimmering above the blacktop.

She navigated another hairpin turn, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Sweat beaded on her forehead, the car’s ancient AC wheezing feebly against the oppressive heat. The scenery blurred past, a monotonous tapestry of sunbaked scrub and rocky outcroppings, each bend in the road offering a new potential ambush point.

Jason would know something was wrong by now. He’d have found a way to get to town and ask questions. He’d know where she’d been, but not where she was going.

Her eyes flicked constantly between the road ahead and her rearview mirror. Each passing car sent a jolt of adrenaline through her system. A black SUV appeared in her mirror, gaining ground rapidly.

The SUV drew closer. Foot hovering over the accelerator, Alex tried to think of evasive tactics. Then the vehicle turned off, revealing a family of tourists. She exhaled sharply, forcing her grip to loosen on the wheel.

“Get it together,” she muttered, shaking her head.

She chided herself for the reaction. This was exactly why she needed to maintain distance, to verify the intel objectively. Yet asmall part of her longed to see his face in her rearview mirror, a sign that he cared enough to follow.

The miles ticked by, each one ratcheting up her inner conflict. Her shoulders ached from being hunched over the wheel. The heavy air inside the car seemed to press down on her, making each breath a conscious effort, laden with doubt and second-guesses.

Then, just as the constant vigilance began to wear her down, a flash of movement in her rearview mirror jolted her back to full alertness. Another black SUV roared up behind her, bigger than the last one, eating up the distance with terrifying speed. Her heart leapt into her throat as the behemoth of a vehicle drew close enough for her to make out the driver.

Jason.

His face was a mask of grim determination, eyes locked on her car with laser-like focus. Her breath caught, her mind reeling as conflicting emotions warred within her. Relief and terror danced a frantic tango in her chest.

Was he here to save her? Or to silence her?

24

The musclesin Jason’s forearms corded as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes locked on the Mustang’s taillights snaking up the mountain ahead. Alex’s erratic driving only fueled his suspicions. Was she running to the enemy? Or from them?

He pressed the accelerator. The sudden surge pushed him back into his seat, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Alex’s smaller car weaved dangerously close to the edge, tires kicking up dust and pebbles that pinged against his windshield.

“Alex, slow down,” he growled, forced to recalculate his approach. He couldn’t risk sending her over a cliff in his attempt to stop her, no matter how furious he was.

The mountain air whipped through his open window, carrying the scent of sunbaked earth and pine. His training screamed that this was a trap, but his gut twisted with the hope that there was an explanation, any explanation, for her sudden flight.

Seizing the upcoming straightaway, he gunned the engine and angled into the oncoming lane, pulling alongside her. The vehicles were so close he could hear the whine of her strainingengine over the rush of wind. He gestured emphatically, shouting himself hoarse. “Pull over! Now, Alex!”

For a split second, their eyes met. Jason caught a glimpse of fear and determination in Alex’s wide-eyed glance before she shook her head, her car lurching forward as she accelerated.

Jason bit off a curse. He edged closer, using the SUV’s bulk to force her toward the shoulder. It was a risky move, one that sent his heart racing, but he was out of options.

Gravel crunched and pinged against both vehicles as they skidded to a stop on the narrow shoulder. He killed the engine and threw open the door, exiting in one fluid motion. The sudden silence was oppressive, broken only by the low rumble of engines and the distant cry of a hawk.

Alex mirrored his movements, her stance wary as she emerged from her car, inching between the two vehicles. The mountain wind whipped her hair around her face, but couldn’t disguise the mix of defiance and apprehension in her eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jason snarled, taking a step forward. “Are you trying to get us both killed?”

Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “You’re the one playing demolition derby on a mountain road!”

“Why are you running? What’s going on, Mendoza? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” she insisted, but beneath the bravado, he caught a flicker of something else. Fear? Uncertainty?

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