Page 29 of A Brighter Yellow
Ochre nodded. “Ah. Got it.”
“We should follow him when he leaves,” said Anna. She surveyed her resources. Then she turned to Steve. Technically he was Ochre’s human, but Charlie was counting on her; she didn’t have time to be polite. “We don’t have a vehicle,” she said.
“I’ve got a motorbike you can use,” offered Steve and Anna felt a wave of grateful relief. One step at a time, she could conquer this.
“I don’t know how to drive a motorcycle,” said Ochre.
“I do,” said Anna giving him a grin. She’d spent her teen years with a dirt bike as her primary mode of transportation. Anna finally felt in control of the situation. She had a quarry to hunt and a plan. She could do this.
“Great,” said Steve, “follow me.” She smiled at him as a thank you and then realized she might have overdone it because his pheromone levels picked up. She glanced over at Ochre, who looked pissed. She wanted to stick out her tongue at him. He wasn’t the only one who could have a fan club.
Steve showed them the motorbike—it was a beater 550cc Suzuki and perfect as far as she was concerned. Steve also made sure Anna took his number. Anna gave him hers, just in case he found out something about Elliot.
“I don’t have your number,” said Ochre, as Steve headed back to the picket line.
“You also don’t need to call me,” said Anna, programming Steve’s number into her phone. “I’m right here.” She looked up, caught Ochre’s expression, and realized that it had not been the time to be sarcastic. “Of course, you can have my number. I just meant…” His eyebrows went up as he waited for her to finish extracting her foot from her mouth. “We’re sticking together, so hopefully, you won’t need to call me.”
Ochre’s expression softened, but he still looked frustrated and pissed. He was the best thing to happen to her in at least a year, and she’d already managed to ruin it.
“Ochre,” she said, tucking her phone away. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she figured it had better be something good because guys like him didn’t come along every twenty minutes. “This isn’t what I thought was going to happen.”
“Whatdidyou think was going to happen?” he asked.
“Um.” Anna was stumped. She really hadn’t gotten that far.
Steve gave a whistle, and she and Ochre both turned to look. He pointed at the building. A forty-ish guy with brown hair, a 1940s haircut in pleat-fronted khaki pants, and a sad blue button-up came out of the building. He looked even worse than the photos from Charlie’s Instagram.
“Ew,” Anna exclaimed. “Why would that guy even think he could get near Charlie?”
“Scarlet sometimes says: Goddess, grant me the confidence of a mediocre white guy,” said Ochre.
Anna choked on a surprised laugh. “Yeah, maybe so,” she said, wishing she didn’t find Ochre’s sister funny. Anna was still a little pissed about Liam. She told herself she didn’t care, but damn it, her pride still stung. It was worse than having her man stolen by another woman. It was havingneverbeen his woman in the first place.
“Get on the bike,” she said. Ochre shouldered his pack and got on. She hoped that Elliot wasn’t going to go that fast or that far because the 550cc engine wasn’t going to get a lot of speed with both of them on it.
She didn’t need to have worried. Elliot Hoyer drove like a blind granny on Sunday. He swerved into on-coming traffic while obviously texting, turn signals were something for other people, and stop signs apparently only meantslow down. The only good thing about his driving was that he obviously wasn’t one to check the rearview mirror, so following him wasn’t a problem.
The only real problem was that Ochre’s large hands were on her hips, and his broad chest was against her back. She went over a speed hump and his fingers pressed into her hip bones, right where she would want them if they were naked. He held her down, keeping his legs tight to hers. She wanted him like that, taking her from behind. Would he be savage like a wolf? His strength made her stomach do little flip-flops. At the next stoplight, she tried to separate herself a little bit, but a separation of one area only ended up pressing another into him. She took a frustrated short breath as Ochre slid one hand up to her waist and leaned into her.
“This guy drives like an idiot,” he said, his voice was low, and he sounded torn between confusion and amusement.
“I know!” she exclaimed with a breathless laugh. Was he trying to torture her? If he slid his hand up just a little more, he could put his hand over her breast. She was contemplating doing something stupid like turning around and kissing Ochre when the light finally changed. At least when they were in motion, the smell of Ochre wasn’t teasing her nose.
Elliot meandered out of town and picked up speed, but Anna had a good lock on the smell of his car by then. She followed at what seemed like a safe distance, and thirty minutes later, Elliot’s Lexus turned into a dirt road with a gate. The Lexus bounced through puddles splashing mud onto the rims as he paused at a call box and swiped a card. The gate creaked open, and he drove through to what looked like nothing but grassy farmland. Anna slowed down, seeing the security cameras above the entrance and on the fence line. Now she knew where he was getting the muddy tires, but she was even more worried about Charlie.
“Keep driving!” Ochre yelled in her ear.
Reluctantly, she nodded and went on for another half-mile before pulling off the road.
“There were wards on that gate,” said Ochre.
“I didn’t see any buildings, did you?” Anna asked, and Ochre shook his head. “We need to do some recon. Figure out what the hell is out there.”
“Text Steve,” said Ochre. She tried to remember who Steve was.
“Oh, right. That guy. Why?”
“He’s ex-Blackpool Security. That’s what he meant when he said he could find out about Elliot. He’s also from around here. Maybe he’ll know about the property or at least how we find out what it is.”
