Page 48 of Rogue Mission
I’m awaiting his answer, my fingers itching to squeeze that airway shut, when the world detonates and an airbag punches me in the face.
NINETEEN
En Route to The New Safe House
The SUV’s leather seat is cold against my back, even through the borrowed jacket someone draped over my shoulders. Camile sits beside me, silent and tense.
Allison next to me, is gnawing her thumbnail, staring out the tinted window at nothing.
There are cracks in my resolve, and they’re spreading with every minute that passes.
“Can you give me the time?” I ask Camile.
“It’s been forty-four minutes since they left.”
That’s all?
The silence returns. Heavier this time.
The combined concern between the three of us is thick enough to suffocate. We’re not the only ones who are keyed up.
Evan drives with the kind of focused intensity that makes conversation impossible. His eyes constantly flick to the mirrors, scanning, assessing.
Every few minutes, his hand moves to touch something at his hip. A weapon check? A trained habit.
Each time it makes my stomach a little tighter.
Something bad has happened. I don’t know what the briefing was about that took place while I was in the bathroom, but the playing field has changed.
Everyone is on high alert.
“Sorry, I’m just wound tight,” I tell Camile.
Plus, my ribs throb with each breath.
I’ve been holding back from saying anything, but the pain medication they gave me at the hospital has officially worn off.
“Does anyone have an aspirin?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the worry gnawing at me.
Allison startles into motion, unbuckling herself, earning a growl from Evan. But she doesn’t heed his order to buckle up; instead, she leans over the back seat to rummage through gear.
“There’s a first-aid kit right here,” she says, her voice muffled as she stretches over the third-row seat.
Does she have anything in that first-aid kit for heartache? Because in addition to my bones being sore, there’s something else going on inside my rib cage.
Evan says, “Copy, go ahead.”
“He’s talking on his radio,” Camile whispers. “It took me a long time to get used to them just hearing things inside their head.”
I nod, trying to cue into what his facial expression is saying.
There’s a very subtle shift in his stony façade. Without thought, I lean forward trying to hear something, barely aware that Allison’s back in her seat.
“Here you go. This is Motrin; it will be even better.”
I absently take it from her hand as Evan curses. “Goddammit. No.”
Camile, Allison and I all go still in the seat.
