Page 52 of Too Cursed To Kiss
He pulled off onto the ramp just outside Barstow, California.
“Why are we stopping?” I asked, as he maneuvered to a parking spot at a diner.
“I’m hungry. Aren’t you?” he asked, reaching over to me and sending the butterflies into a dither. But instead of touching me, he opened the glove compartment and handed me a burner flip phone.
“Not really.” I sullenly took it and slid down in the seat. I wanted water and something crunchy to allay my sexual frustration, but even though I hadn’t said it out loud, I sure as hell didn’t care if he knew it. “You didn’t tell meyourfavorite food?” I stared at the phone.
“A succulent lamb curry.”
I laughed. “I didn’t see that coming. You’re full of surprises.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” His voice was sand over silk, sending tingles through me. “I’ll be right back. Try not to be seen. If there’s an issue, I’m the first number,” he said, nodding at the phone while opening the door.
“Gotcha.” I locked the door but scanned the parking lot.It seemed safe enough. The ring wasn’t with us, so who knew if the agents could even find us. I stared at the phone. It was a burner, but who would I even call?
Calling my boss, Meredith, was dicey. If the cops were looking for me, she’d be the one they’d go after, but when I got out of this, I still needed that fucking job. Meredith didn’t bother to answer her phone, so I left a message using my very bestI’m dyingvoice. “Hey, Meredith, it’s Harlan.” I sniffled and hacked a cough. “I’m so deathly sick. I’m not coming today and maybe not this week. I’ll let you know.” I added two more coughs that sounded like a lung was coming up. “I’m really sorry. Thanks for understanding,” I said and hung up. I chuckled. She might not believe that, but it was an Academy Award-level sick performance.
I glanced around the parking lot, and there was still no Wald. The phone was burning in my hand. One more call to who? Goddamn the obvious choice. I’d have to keep it under a minute.
“Harlan, where the hell are you?” Tyre asked, his voice lowering. “Wait, don’t tell me. You okay?”
“Yeah.” I thought about that. I was sort of okay as long as the hunters didn’t find us or the police. It was nice of Tyre to ask. Maybe he did care a little.
Papers shuffled, and a door closed. “Why the hell are you calling? You know what I know, right?”
“Yeah, I do. Just checking to see the heat level there.”
“Scorching. I don’t want to know anything more, but the Feds have your phone.”
Ouch. “Was hoping for tepid. You know I didn’t do it. Any of it.”
“Yeah, others would like that info firsthand.”
“Aware. Any other news?”
“Nada.”
“I think things will work themselves out. Say hi to Jules.”
“Will do. Lose this number, ‘k?”
“Gotcha,” I said bitterly, hanging up. Fuck Tyre to make me feel like an earthworm about to be crushed. Wald was right about the body count getting tied to me. Fucking hell.
Wald was sauntering back to the car with bags and cups, every step toward me sucking another ounce of air from my lungs. No one had ever had the effect on me that this man had.
A linger of clove smoke wafted into the car as Wald settled a cup in the holder and dropped a bag in my lap. I inhaled the delicious gooey greasiness of a grilled cheese sandwich, and my heart did backflips. Alongside it was a package of black pepper chips. My favorite.
“Sorry, the shake machine was broken.” He grinned, taking an orange out of his bag.
“You like oranges?” I shifted in the seat and unwrapped the grilled cheese.
“I like things with a good balance of acid and sweetness.” His smirk said he wasn’t talking entirely about oranges. The burst of orange with traces of clove cigarette smoke was startlingly sexy. I scarfed the grilled cheese, licking grease off my fingers while riveted to how he sectioned the orange, finger movements firm and delicate. The orange segments disappeared between his lips, and I turned my attention to the cup holder. A giant cup of water with perfect-pelleted ice.
“Um, we might need to ditch this burner?”
He raised an eyebrow above the sunglasses but held his hand out for the phone. I gave it to him, noting he was a no-questions-needed kinda guy. He popped out the sim card and crushed it between his gloved fingers. The act of turning a SIM card to literal dust was beyond wild. I knew he was strong but,wow.
Still quiet, Wald punched an address into the car’s navigation, then put the car into gear and headed back to the highway.
