Page 87 of Forbidden Sins

We stay like that for several long minutes, until we reluctantly finally pull apart. “We need to get moving,” Sebastian says, regret coloring his tone. “I’ll help you get cleaned up, but we can’t stay much longer.”

There’s no bathroom in the cabin, just an outhouse outside. Sebastian follows me out, keeping guard while I go inside, and then we swap, before he helps me back into the cabin. He hands me bottles of water, and a cloth, and soap that he took from one of the motels, and I strip naked, doing my best to wash up while he makes us instant oatmeal from packets in one of the cupboards. It’s beyond rustic, but I honestly don’t care. I’m sure the novelty would wear off if we had to live like this for very long, but right now, all that matters to me is that I’m still alive, and we’re still together.

When I’m as clean as I’m going to get, I dry off with a towel that Sebastian took and change into clean clothes. We eat the plain oatmeal as quickly as we can, and then Sebastian packs up, handing me my gun and taking his before we make our way carefully out to the waiting car. There’s no sign of Vito or his men right now, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t be surprised at any moment.

We stop at another pharmacy in the next town. I go in with Sebastian this time, and I watch him make up a story about camping and a nasty knife cut while cleaning fish when the middle-aged woman behind the counter gets a little too curiousabout why we’re buying so many painkillers, bandages, and antiseptic creams.

“You’re quite the actor,” I tell him teasingly as we leave. “I think she totally bought your story.”

Sebastian chuckles as we get back into the car. “Well, maybe I’ll consider that for my next line of work.”

“Have you thought about what that might be?” I ask curiously. “What kind of job could you do across the border?”

Sebastian shrugs, putting the car in gear and pulling back out onto the road. “We’re set for a good long time, princess,” he assures me. “But eventually I might want to work again. Maybe I’ll do more protection work. Or security consulting.”

“Do you think I could open my art gallery somewhere?” I ask curiously. “Eventually?”

Sebastian looks over at me, smiling. “I think if we manage to get out of this and start a new life somewhere, we can manage anything.”

We drive for hours, stopping only for gas and food. I take as many painkillers as I can stomach, insisting that Sebastian take them too, even though he worries we might run out. “We have money,” I point out. “We can get painkillers like this anywhere.”

“As long as we’re not so on the run that we can’t stop,” Sebastian argues. But I can tell his shoulder is hurting him, and he eventually relents.

Late at night, we cross into another state, putting even more distance between us and Vito's men. Sebastian finds us a small motel off the highway, paying cash as usual. The room is basic but clean, with a queen-sized bed and a bathroom that actually has decent water pressure.

“We can make it to California in a week, I think,” Sebastian says as we settle in for the night. "Maybe a little less, if we press hard, and aren’t held up by Vito and his men catching up tous. Then we’ll head to Mexico after I get us new papers from a contact I have, and we’ll go from there."

I curl against his side, my head on his chest. "I don't care where we go, as long as we're together."

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "We will be. I promise."

The next few days pass in a blur of highways and motels, each one indistinguishable from the last. Our wounds begin to heal, and we end up tangled together naked in bed every night, cautious of all the ways we’re both hurt, but unable to keep our hands off each other. I see Sebastian relaxing slightly as we put more miles between us and New York, although he’s still constantly on guard. We’re both on edge, but there are moments of lightness too—Sebastian singing along to the radio, terribly off-key; stopping to watch a sunset that turns the sky into a canvas of orange and pink; coming up with names for a dog that we might own one day.

We’ve nearly made it to Colorado when it all falls apart.

We’re at a gas station when a black SUV peels into the parking lot. I hear the squeal of tires and look up just in time to see Sebastian drop the gas nozzle, cursing aloud as he runs for the driver’s side. A patter of bullets hits the pavement, and Sebastian curses again as he flings himself inside, screams erupting from the other customers.

“Are they trying to blow the whole goddamn place up?” he snarls, slamming his foot on the gas as he starts the car. A bullet hits the back windshield, and I scream, dropping down in the seat as Sebastian peels out onto the road.

“I don’t think he cares,” I gasp. “As long as he gets me back.”

He’s never going to stop.My heart is pounding against my ribs, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t realize just how much I’d started to believe that we were home free untilVito caught up to us again, and now I feel a sense of hopelessness threatening to wash over me.

“How did they find us?” I crouch down, tense as I wait for the sound of bullets hitting the car.

"Doesn't matter now." Sebastian's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "We need to lose them."

He makes a series of quick turns through a residential neighborhood, the SUV staying with us at every corner. Sebastian's face is a mask of concentration, his eyes constantly checking the mirrors.

"Hold on," he warns, before suddenly accelerating through a yellow light. The SUV blows through the red after us, narrowly missing a crossing car that honks angrily.

“We’re not going to be able to outrun them,” I whisper. “We can’t. They’re just going to keep coming…”

As if on cue, the SUV accelerates, ramming into our back bumper. The impact jolts us forward, and I cry out as my seatbelt cuts into my still-healing side.

"Fuck!" Sebastian swerves, trying to maintain control. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie, tasting blood where I've bitten my lip. "Just drive."

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