Page 68 of Taking Care of the Target

Way to take it to the scarier level,she thought as she climbed in. Vince grunted as he tossed the duffel into the backseat and climbed into the passenger side.

The engine growled to life, and Cassie slammed the pedal so hard it threw her back against the seat. They lurched out of the parking lot, and she took a hard right.

Vince wadded the bottom of his shirt and used his forearm to press it to his wound. “Are you going to drive me to the police station and tell them to arrest me?” he asked, but he didn’t sound very concerned.

She eyed the sign that guided them to Route 1. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” At least with her memories back, she knew the city again, as well as the freeways and which states they led to. Driving also gave her a sense of control she desperately needed right now.

Vince pulled out his phone, and she tensed as he made a call. Yes, he’d saved her tonight. No, that didn’t mean she automatically trusted him.

“Bobby? You do what I asked you to?” Vince let out a relieved sigh. “Just stay gone. Dump your phone. Remember what I told you.” He glanced at Cassie. “Yeah. Pissed as hell and I’m pretty sure I can consider my ass dumped, but she’s okay, which is all that really matters…You, too.” He lowered the phone, broke it apart, and dug out the battery.

“How much does Bobby know?”

“Obviously he knows about our uncle’s business, but I was scared to tell him much about the whole situation with you. He just knows I think you’re in danger, that I was going to do something crazy and risky to keep you safe, and that I needed him to get as far away from New Jersey as fast as possible.” Vince rolled down his window and tossed his phone out of the Jeep. He waited several seconds before throwing the battery. “You don’t have your phone on you, do you?”

“If I had my phone, I’d have called the police already.” She bit her lip. “You sure that’s not the right move?”

“Carlo’s got too many contacts. I don’t trust them.”

“I trust Tom. I can call him and—”

“Please, Cassie. Just trust me.” He reached for her thigh and then seemed to remember he didn’t get to touch her like that anymore and rested his hand on the console instead. “The farther you get from New Jersey, the better.”

“Trust you?”she asked, unable to help herself.

“I suppose I deserve that.” Vince ran a hand through his hair. “Does it matter that I lied to keep you safe? I hoped you’d never remember that shooting. I wish I didn’t.”

Cassie shuddered as the image of that man dying in the back alley of Rossi’s hit her again.

Vince reached over and took her hand, apparently deciding it was safer territory than the thigh. She thought about jerking it away and trying to stay mad, but it felt so damn good and provided the comfort she craved right now. So she slipped her fingers between his and held on tight.

A passing truck’s headlights lit up the Jeep’s interior for a moment, and Cassie noticed how pale Vince was. “The next town, we’ll get you to a hospital and they can stitch up the knife wound,” she said.

“It’s nothing. Much easier to live through than a bullet wound.”

“Still, I feel horrible. You just dove right on me, even though you had to know it’d get you.”

He curled his fingers tighter around her hand. “It was that or watch you die, and that wasn’t an option.”

A lump rose in her throat. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back.”

“It didn’t go that deep, and if it’ll soften you up to the point that you might eventually forgive me one day, I’ll call it a win.”

She gave a half-laugh, half-cry and then clenched her jaw, because if she allowed any crying, she might never stop.

Chapter Thirty-One

Vince checked the rearview and side mirrors. In the dark, it was nearly impossible to tell one set of headlights from another, but they hadn’t been followed out of Jersey. He had Cassie take a few random freeways, skimming north of Philadelphia and heading that way for a while before turning south and ending up in the Appalachians.

The strain showed in Cassie’s posture, and she kept shaking herself and readjusting in her seat, stress and fatigue taking their toll. He’d take a turn at the wheel, but he was exhausted as well and figured they could both use time to catch their breaths.

“Let’s get off at this exit,” he said. “We’ll find a little town, check into a motel, and catch a few hours of sleep.”

A couple of miles down the road, a small strip motel came into view. “There. Pull over and we’ll get a room.”

When Cassie raised an eyebrow at him, he added a “please,” and she turned into the parking lot and eased the Jeep into a space near the office. After hours of non-stop driving, just being in one place was a welcome relief.

A sharp pain shot through his side as he reached for his duffel, but he ignored it and hefted the bag onto his lap. Then he pulled on his jacket, zipped it all the way up so it’d cover his bloody T-shirt, and climbed out of the Jeep.

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