Page 80 of Claimed by an Alien Warrior

Her last conscious thought — before she was carried away on a tidal wave of pleasure — was that maybe he wasn’t quite as eager to leave as he’d made it seem.

Chapter Seventeen

Following the signs for I-70, Zoey drove west along South Frontage Road. She was decked out in her freshly stolen winter attire — a cozy coat, woolen leggings, and comfortable, plush snow boots. Shemighthave taken a few extras for just-in-cases, but she’d made sure the cabin was tidied and the bedding washed before they departed.

If it weren’t for Rendash, she would’ve left a combination thank you and apology note on the island. He nixed the idea, pointing out that even though they’d left evidence of their presence, the security system wouldn’t offer any indication that they’d ever been there. He’d argued there was no reason to give any sign of their presence freely now that she was being searched for.

She’d fought a little, but she knew he was right, and ultimately gave in.

It’s the thought that counts, right?

It was midafternoon by the time they’d left. Laundry hadn’t been their only delay, or even their primary one. Neither of them could get enough of the other. She’d secretly hoped to stay another day, but they were already pushing their luck. What if the owners arrived earlier than expected?

What if they woke to the sound of low-flying helicopters in the middle of the night?

Zoey hated leaving. She hadn’t lied to Ren when she said she wished they could stay forever. The cabin had been a dream, made more wonderful because she’d shared it with him.

Her chest constricted.

No. I won’t think of him leaving right now. We still have time together.

She glanced at him. Even though the truck was bigger than her car, he still looked awkwardly large inside, with his knees up against the dash. He wore his oversized coat with the torn clothing beneath. A pair of dark sunglasses aided his raised hood in obscuring his makeup-caked face from would-be onlookers. The disguise seemed flimsy to her now, having seen his natural face for such a long stretch, especially with the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow and wet roads to light everything from all angles.

She hoped the glare on the windshield would be enough to prevent anyone from noticing him, because more than a passing glance would reveal his inhumanity to anyone with half a brain.

“My ship is that way,” he said, pointing over his right shoulder.

“Yeah, I know. You told me.”

“Why aren’t we going in that direction?”

“Because, like I’ve explained to you, that’s not how these roads work. Sometimes you have to go the wrong direction to go in the right one.”

Thanks to his impatience, she’d decided it best not to tell him that the interstate had been directly to their left, running parallel to them, ever since they pulled onto South Frontage; she was afraid he might’ve simply jerked the wheel aside and forced them over the grassy median and onto the freeway.

He frowned deeply. “Is that another one of those human sayings?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a saying or not, because it’s true. We have a stop to make real quick before we head out of town, anyway.”

Zoey drove on, squinting against the snow glare as she searched for a gas station. She was beginning to lose hope when the gentle curve of the road revealed a sign up ahead that had been hidden by trees — a big, bright red gas station sign.

She turned into the gas station lot with a mutteredthank you. She pulled up to a pump, killed the engine, and climbed out. Despite the clear blue sky and bright sunlight, the air was cold. Once the truck was filled, she leaned into the cab.

“I’m going to run inside,” she said.

Ren nodded, but his frown firmly in place. “Quickly. The longer we wait, the more likely I am to be noticed.”

“I’ll hurry. Just keep your head down. Maybe pretend to be asleep, or something.”

“Quickly, little human.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, closing the door.

She rounded the truck and looked both ways before crossing the parking lot and entering the convenience store. She responded to the clerk’s greeting with a smile and wave before she found the ATM near the entrance. Pulling her debit card out of her wallet, she inserted it into the machine and entered her PIN.

Within a few minutes, she’d withdrawn eight hundred and twenty dollars from her account, leaving the last three dollars and thirty-seven cents as a loss. She put everything in her wallet but two twenties and grabbed some snacks — including a few Twix bars, which had become Ren’s favorite — and a pair of sunglasses for herself. She stuffed her change, bills and coins, into her coat pocket.

She tossed her debit card into the trash outside the door on her way out, and her heart stopped when she looked up. A police car was parked not ten feet away.

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