Page 71 of Trapped

His lips firmed. “Maybe.”

“But you’re not sure.”

He balled his hands into fists at his sides. “I can see a house burning. But I don’t know if it’s anything real or if I’m making it up.”

She knew she wasn’t doing his nerves any good. And right now, their main job was to get away. So, she stopped trying to pry information out of him.

They kept moving at as fast a pace as she could manage. She wasn’t sure how much territory they covered. She knew that Cash’s leg must be aching, but he didn’t complain.

Ahead of her, she saw blue sky. Cautiously they peered through the screen of trees, and she spotted the black ribbon of a road.

“Could the guards come driving along here?”

“They could. I don’t know where this road comes from and where it goes.”

When a car passed, they ducked back into the trees.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Maybe we need to take a chance,” Cash muttered.

They could hear another vehicle approaching, something larger than a car.

“See if you can get us a ride,” Cash said.

“How?”

“Get out there and look charming—and wave at the driver.”

She wasn’t sure how to look charming, but she stepped to the side of the road and frantically waved her hand as a truck came around the curve.

At first, she thought the driver wasn’t going to stop, and she was getting ready to jump back into the woods when the truck slowed.

The driver rolled down the window and leaned toward her. “You need help, honey?”

He was a middle-aged man with thinning hair, broken veins all over his cheeks and nose, and what she’d call an honest face.

She started thinking fast. Yes, she was in trouble, but she wasn’t going to tell him that she and Cash had escaped from private security guards.

“Some crazy guys went after me and my boyfriend,” she said, deliberately making her sentence ungrammatical. “We’ve got to get away from them.”

Cash stepped out of the woods. “We’d surely appreciate a ride.”

The driver eyed him, and she held her breath waiting to see if the offer of help extended to both of them.

“Sure. Hop in.”

She exhaled, amazed that he didn’t question their story. They both climbed into the cab, and the truck started off again.

“Name’s Hank Keller,” the driver said.

“Jim Baker,” Cash said without missing a beat.

“Like the preacher?”

Cash laughed. “Yeah. They used to get me mixed up with him all the time.” He gestured toward Sophia. “And this is Sara, my main squeeze.”

She struggled to keep a straight face.

“So, what happened to y’all?” the driver asked.

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