Page 100 of In The Trenches (Owens Protective Services)

Cash shook his head slightly. “Let me guess, Beth isn’t your real name.”

I shook my head. I knew he probably figured it out a long time ago, but he was letting me have my privacy for whatever reason. “If they don’t know who they’re looking for, they won’t find us.”

“Not a bad idea, boss. Care to share with the rest of us who you really are?” Dash asked.

“Not right now,” I answered, still watching Cash. “I’ll tell you everything, but I can’t risk anyone other than you knowing.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. I knew he didn’t like excluding his team, but these were my stipulations. “Fine. Dash, I’ll call you when we have a plan. And see if you can get ahold of Rafe. He and I are about to have a come to Jesus moment.”

He laughed hysterically over the phone. “Oh, man! Shit, I can’t believe I’m going to miss that. I’ll call you when I have something.”

Cash hung up the phone and continued driving. “So, where are we headed?”

“Kansas,” I said quietly, turning to look out the window.

“And what’s in Kansas?”

“My aunt. She’s the only family I have left.”

He nodded, his eyes watching the road, which I was grateful for. After the joyride we just took, I wasn’t interested in repeating any of that. But mostly, I didn’t want him watching me. It was hard enough to talk about without his watchful gaze on me.

“You mentioned something about escaping your step-father. What’s the story there?”

I couldn’t believe I had blurted all that out, but I was terrified and out of my mind. Of course he would remember that and bring it up again. I could tell him it was none of his business, but at this point, I wasn’t sure there was any reason to keep secrets from him. He’d proven time and again that not only would he protect me, but he was perfectly capable of deciding what he wanted to do.

“My dad died when I was three. My mom couldn’t take care of me on her own, or maybe she didn’t want to. I don’t think she liked the idea of having a kid around that depended on her. She started hanging around with all these bad guys, and when she brought them around, I would hide out in my room for hours, just so I didn’t have to be around all the drugs and alcohol. One day, she brought home this man, and I knew instantly that he was a creep. But if I misbehaved in my mom’s eyes, she took it out on me later.”

“Did he touch you?” he asked tersely.

“He certainly tried,” I snorted. “When I was sixteen, he came into my room one night. I woke up to him trying to get into bed with me. I kicked him in the balls and ran. When he explained that he was just checking on me, my mom started hitting me. According to her, I was trying to tempt my step-dad into…Anyway, I ran and ended up getting caught by the police sleeping under a bridge. They wanted to take me home, but when I explained that I could never go back there, they helped me get to safety.”

“And your mom and step-dad? Did the police do anything about them?”

“He was killed in a car accident—drunk driving. I never saw him again. And I knew my mom wouldn’t want to see me, so I never tried to contact her again.”

It was quiet for a while as he digested that. I didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. I was tired and sore from our escape, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I rested my head against the window until well after the sun came up. Luckily, by the time I woke up, we were out of the mountains and driving across the desert.

“Where are we?” I asked, stretching as best I could.

“Nevada,” he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “We need to stop and get some sleep, and I need to get rid of the truck.”

“Why?”

“Because if the men that were chasing us called anyone, they have the make and model of the truck, along with the plates.” He pulled into a used car dealership and put the truck in park. “Why don’t you go to that motel,” he nodded across the street. “Get us a room while I take care of the truck.”

He pulled out some bills and handed them to me. “What should I give for a name?”

“Make one up. They don’t care. That’s not the type of motel that worries about things like that.”

I was all too familiar with those motels. “Do you want me to carry anything over?”

“Just your bag. After you get the room, get cleaned up.”

I grabbed the bag of spare clothes and walked over to the motel, worried that they’d take one look at me and call the cops. Thankfully, the man behind the counter didn’t even spare me a glance. Taking the key, I went to the room and stepped inside with a sigh. It had those old bedspreads that were from the nineties, the kind that made me think bedbugs were burrowing in deep. But it was a bed and I was exhausted.

It was pointless to bring the clothes along. They were filthy, as were the ones I was wearing. There was no way I could wear these again after taking a shower, not after nearly falling off a mountain last night. I stripped out of my clothes and headed for the bathroom, turning on the shower to the hottest setting. The generic shampoo and conditioner weren’t much, but at least I didn’t feel like I had bugs crawling along my scalp by the time I was done.

I wrapped a towel around myself and peeked into the bedroom, glad that it was still empty. Since I had no clothes, I slipped under the covers, still wrapped in a towel, and promptly fell asleep.

---