Page 63 of Nicole's Shelter

He made a show of pocketing the keys. “No thanks.”

She watched him walk away to pre-pay with cash. Better that than risking a trace on a credit or debit charges, she supposed. Digging some money out of her purse, she hopped out of the truck and rushed to catch up.

He glanced around, reminding her to look for cameras. “Do I need to buy another hat?”

“How close are we?”

“Maybe another hour, two at most.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” He opened the door and motioned her through. “Even if they pick us up here,” he said under his breath, “they don’t know where we’re going. There’s a case to be made that I’m taking you to the Cypress Security office.”

Her resulting questions had to wait as he headed for the counter and she headed toward the coolers in the back. Grabbing two bottles of soda, she headed for the counter.

Instinctively, she kept her gaze down, but the chattering anchor on the television behind the cashier caught her attention.

“Police still aren’t clear as to why the bikers attacked the driver of the sedan, but the assumption is a drug exchange gone bad.”

Clifton.

She barely contained the burst of profanity burning on her tongue as she paid for the sodas and a couple of candy bars she’d added on impulse. The slimy bastard was trying to smear Bart’s reputation. Talk about predictable!

Thanking the cashier, she tossed a brittle smile up at the security camera over the door and rolled her shoulders back. Let Clifton find her. She’d be ready this time and armed with evidence he couldn’t possibly twist out of.

She rushed back to where Rick was coaxing the aging gas pump to cooperate.

“What’s wrong?”

“Clifton is trying to smear Bart’s rep in another media mis-management.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the store. “It was on the television. The reporter is calling the incident with the bikers a drug exchange gone bad.”

Rick laughed. “That’ll be an epic fail.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

His easy confidence gave her a boost. “I hoped so. But well… I really appreciate you.”

His smile faded and his eyes narrowed. “You appreciate me?”

“Definitely.” The gas pump chimed as it reached the pre-paid limit. She hurried around to the other side, suddenly eager to get to the beach and get on with Rick’s plan.

It was an exhilarating thought that Rick might be able to liberate her from this limbo in a legal way. A way that let her have a real life. She wasn’t particularly eager to return to a name and life she’d left behind, but it would be such a relief to live without hyper-analyzing every moment for a potential threat.

The giddy sensation buzzing in her blood made her realize the true price of living with an axe hanging over her head. It was always there in the back of her mind, the constant wondering when she’d be found again—or worse, caught—by the bad guy.

But now the vicious bad guy who’d killed Mr. Chan had a name. She smiled as she thought about it. Not for Clifton and definitely not for what he cost her. No, the smile was all for Rick, who’d given her that first step toward real freedom.

“You look pleased with yourself,” he said when she settled back into the passenger seat.

“Not with myself. With you. Well, maybe with both of us.”

“Pardon?”

She knew what he must be thinking. “I know the happy is a turnaround. You don’t have to look so shocked.”

He kept his eyes on the road as they continued toward the beach. “I figured it’s either the bump on your head or ah, maybe last night.”

“Hmm.” She pretended to think about it. “Probably the bump.”

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