Page 53 of Pen Me

“Where are we?” She studied the big green sign.

“Centralia is the next exit.”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged, rubbing at my jaw.

“I could go into Walmart and get some stuff.”

“No.” I instantly dismissed the idea. “Too many cameras.”

She sucked air through her teeth in a thoughtful way, “They have a strip mall, but it’s so early…”

She glanced back at me, and her gaze dropped to my chin, “You need to clean that, bandage it.”

My attention shot to the rearview mirror, and I tipped my chin. It had a half inch laceration, but it wasn’t the worst injury I’d ever ended a rumble with.

“Be fine,” I mumbled.

She nodded and seemed to melt against the passenger door.

“Hey,” I whispered, reaching abruptly for her hand.

She flinched and I paused before settling my own atop it on her thigh.

“It’s okay. You can trust me.”

“I don’t know you.”

I snorted and side-eyed her.

“What?”

“Do you always send pictures of your ass to incarcerated men that you — don’t know?”

Her face fell and a hint of blush crept onto her cheeks. I slid my fingers between hers and brought her hand up to my mouth. Shestared at me while I planted a kiss on her knuckles and checked the traffic in front of us.

“You’re scared, and that’s okay. You don’t have to be, but you are, and I don’t fault you for it… I just want you to know, you don’t have to be scared when you’re with me or be afraid of me. Ever.”

“Are you crazy?” She shifted to give me her full attention, placing her back to the door again, though she didn’t try to draw her hand away. “Because there are federal agents, and U.S. Marshals hunting you right now, and— and you think– we’re safe? I’m an accomplice to your escape right now, Lennox.”

I bit my lip. The sound of my government name on her lips– All full of concern. Fuck. No chick had ever called me that before. I liked it. A lot.

“Why the fuck are you staring at me like that? Say something,” she demanded.

“You’re not an accomplice. As far as they know, you’re my hostage.”

“Hostage.” Her face fell flat, the way that Ziggy’s did when a prospect said some really dumb shit.

I laughed, unable to keep from snorting.

“What?”

“You look like your dad sometimes, you know that?”

That empty slate expression soured in slow motion until it settled into a bitter frown, and I lost it.

“Oh shit,” I laughed, glancing between her and the road as I tried to compose myself.

All that laughing was killing my ribs.

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