Page 40 of A Shot in the Dark
It’s as we rocket down another stretch of highway that he regains a sense of hope and says, “Maybe I can still fix this…”
A shadow skims across my peripheral vision and I catch the glint of a car entering the highway behind us. Something about it—the way it moves aggressively through the sparse traffic—ratchets the fear up in me. “Boots,” I urge, my voice ragged, throat burning. “BOOTS.”
“What?!”
“It looks like we have company…”
In the rearview mirror he catches a glimpse of the dark car racing up to catch us. “SHIT. Yeah, that’s one of ours…” He grows silent and I know he’s working things out in his head. “Okay, you’ve got your seatbelt on good and snug, right?”
“Yes.”
“BRACE.” The Town Car fishtails, skids, tires screaming, and then it crosses the grassy median of the highway and doubles back, taking the first exit. “I need to get us to cover,” he explains. “Just need a minute…”
The world flies past and then, my vision still struggling to settle after our 180, I hear the growl of brakes, the slinging sound of grit and gravel slapping against the bottom of the car as she shimmies to a stop along a grassy shoulder. Boots drags meout of the car, shoving me towards a fringe of fresh green forest. “Go! That way, as fast as you can. NOW! Do not come out unless I call!”
I run like I’ve never run before, desperation giving my feet wings, breath burning in my lungs as I sprint as far from the car, from the danger, from Boots, as I can.
And then… The sound of gun fire stops me dead. I spin around to face the way I’ve come, something strange in my gut—a burning unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“Boots…” I whisper.
Minutes stretch and I begin to shake. I wrap my arms around myself and stumble back up the path. Stupid, stupid, stupid… But I have to know. Something sad and empty nestles in my stomach, too close to all the good and kind bits of me.
“Sylva!”
Boots’ voice stuns me—instantly calms me. “Here, I’m here…” He wraps me in his arms, nuzzling the side of my face, and letting go of me only long enough to run his hands along my hair. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Thank god you’re safe…” He blows out a deep, disbelieving breath, pulls me close again. We stand there, together, simply sharing the same air, breathing in each other along with the scents of early spring in the woods. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I need you to look at this man and tell me if you know him. I need to know if he’s your stalker.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, princess, no one should ever need to see what you’re about to see…” His hand closing around my arm, he pulls me forward until we both stand at the foot of a man’s body. “Iknow this is going to be hard, but I need you to look at him. I need to know if that man is your stalker.”
“The dead man?” I ask, dazed.
“Yeah,” he replies, his brow pinched. “Shit. If I could save you this…” He wraps his arms around me and nuzzles the back of my neck.
“He’s already in a hole…” I can’t do this. This is not how my life is supposed to be. This was only supposed to be a roadtrip. A way of getting me to safety. Maybe a few fucks—why not? But nothing like this—nothing that ties the two of us together and has me standing at the lip of a shallow grave trying to identify a man who is missing most of his face.
The red flags are back, waving, and filling my field of vision.
Temporary. This was only supposed to be temporary.
That’s what he wanted, that’s what I wanted…
Temporary.
“It’s okay,” Boots soothes. “I’ll make it okay,” he promises.
Something trembles in the bond, singing in a different pitch and leaving me wondering if Boots is lying to me.
“He’s in a grave, precious,” Boots confirms. “Time is of the essence.”
“Where did you get a shovel?”
“I am equipped for a variety of misdeeds, it’s probably best you never know about,” he murmurs into my ear. “The man, Sylva. Is he your stalker? Is this him?”
I am frozen, even in Boots’ warm embrace.
“Is this him?” Boots asks again, more firmly.
