Page 45 of Master of Lies

I scooped her up, carried her to the Jeep, and deposited her into the passenger seat. Then I took off to retrieve my other guns, which still lay in the snow where Boer had forced me to throw them. The way things were going, I’d need them all, and soon.

On the way back, I was alarmed to see Freya out of the Jeep, staggering into the house.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled. “We have to go, right now!”

“I need my coat,” she said, breathlessly.

“Fuck your coat! I’ll buy you another one! That coat’s too goddamn bright anyway! You need to be invisible!”

She shot me an implacable look. “I want my goddamn coat, Jed.”

First time she’d used my real name. She wasn’t Sandee anymore. The tone and cadence of her voice had changed. Lower, less breathy, more steady, more musical.

Still sexy as fuck.

I followed her into the house and let her retrieve her fucking coat from the chair at the kitchen table. At which point she no longer objected to being herded back into the Jeep, thank God.

We took off as fast as conditions allowed. Boer was hiking out down the riverbed right now. If I were alone, I could stop a couple of miles down the road and hunt that fucker down, once and for all.

But I couldn’t leave her behind, alone and undefended with God knows how many other murdering shitheads on the loose. I wouldn’t be able to if it were Sandee beside me, and I certainly couldn’t now that I knew she was Freya Masters.

There it was, the SUV Boer had driven up here. I’d spotted it first while sprinting back up the hill after blowing up his team. I jerked the Jeep to a halt, and ran toward it, pulling out my knife. I slashed all four tires. Let the fuckface find some new wheels for himself and his murdering crew. We needed a breather.

I gave Freya a worried once-over when I kicked the snow off my boots and got back into the car. Her lips were blue, her face was ashy pale. The head wound didn’t seem to be bleeding, but she looked like hell.

Freya’s eyes got big as we drove off the road, lurching and jolting over the frozen creek bed in order to give the bridge and its grisly load a wide berth.

We lurched back up onto the road. She stared back at the burned-out vehicle, the black smoke rising, the bodies, hanging out of the open doors, and didn’t speak for several miles. She let out a sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath the whole time.

“Jed,” she said. “I…I…um…thank you.”

“Don’t.” It came out savagely loud.

Freya winced. “But I—”

“I would’ve had him.” It was pouring out of me now, like a fire hose. “I could have gone after him and fucking nailed the bastard. But no. Because there you were, hanging off the edge of a cliff. A target for the sniper. I should’ve just left you there and gone after him. But like an asshole, I didn’t. I just couldn’t do it.”

“You saved me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I did. So now, instead of him, I’ve got you. Useless, lying, whacked-out you. Hanging on me like a ball and chain.”

“Jed, that’s not fair. I didn’t—”

“Hah. Shut up. Sandee. Freya. Whoever the hell you are. You fucked me up either way.” I looked back at her face, trying to reconcile my memories of Shane and Ethan’s little sister with the woman beside me. “I can’t believe you’re Freya Masters.”

She snorted. “Because the last time you saw me, I was chubby, and geeky, with zits and a mouth full of metal? Classic.”

“But your hair,” I said. “It wasn’t…”

“Yeah, you’re right. It wasn’t,” she agreed. “I’m ash blonde, not white blond. I bleached it. I’ll have dark roots soon enough. So it’s just the hair that fooled you?”

“It’s the vibe,” I said. “I wouldn’t have expected Freya Masters to be using her tits like a set of nunchucks. That’s a brand new personality trait.”

“You knew diddly-squat about my personality, Jed. You never saw me as a person. I only existed for you because I was attached to Shane and Ethan.”

“Yes! You were a child!”

“Well, I’m not a child anymore,” she said.

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