Page 56 of Exit Strategy
I shook my head and sighed.
“It’s going to take more than just a couple of hours at this rate,” I declared and looked over at Kurt whose lips were pressed thin and whose knuckles were white and mottled where both hands now gripped the steering wheel.
“Aye, well, I can only go as fast as the arsehole in front of me.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Not your fault,” I said with a shrug, and it hit me.
Corporation.That was the word I had been looking for. I rested my temple against the cool window glass and stared at the concrete urban jungle crawling past it at a snail’s pace.
* * *
I startled awake.I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep.
“Aye, yeah. We’re approaching the bridge now,” Kurt was saying into his phone, and I perked up. Just who could he be talking with?
“You want I should just get a hotel tonight, sir? Meet in the am?”
A voice I couldn’t make out droned on the other end of the line and I cocked my head. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but whoever the voice belonged to, it was rich, deep, and decidedly British, just not quite the same British as Kurt’s. Like the difference between an American midwestern and southern accent.
“You’re certain?”
Another pause.
“Aye, Captain, see you in a bit.”
He ended the call and swore, hitting his turn signal and checking before skirting across two lanes and diving off the next exit.
“What happened?” I asked. “Who was that? Where are we?”
“Nothing’s happened, Love. That was an old commanding officer of mine, a friend now, and we’re in Maryland.”
“Oh.” I sat up and stretched, stiff from my nap and still tired, like I could just go right back to sleep. The sun had set outside the truck and Kurt had turned on his headlights, but I don’t know how long ago. There wasn’t a clock in the truck. It was old like that.
We took a winding path through tree-lined streets. The big old oaks lining either side in their manicured patches of grass between road and sidewalks were impressive, and the only reason oaks that big and that old remained where the roots could disrupt the street or sidewalks, yet neither appeared to be a problem? Well, that meant one thing and one thing only… that meantmoney.
We were in averyrich area and by God, we must have stuck out like sore thumbs in this truck in a place like this.
“Kurt,” I said a bit nervously. “I feel like we’re going to draw a lot of attention driving through an area like this.”
“We’re alright, Love. Just trust me.” He covered my hand with his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
My heart was practically in my throat when we pulled up to a set of fancy iron gates and Kurt leaned way forward, looking up through the windshield and waving at what I had to presume was a camera.
It did whatever trick because the gates started their slow mechanical swing inward.
I jumped slightly when the truck lurched forward to clear those gates, and staring out the back window, I watched them swing ominously shut behind us, the clatter they made as they closed making my mouth go a bit dry.
Kurt swept the truck around the drive and stopped it right in front of the mansion’s twin front doors, putting it into park and shutting off first the engine and then the lights. I stared at those doors for a long moment, and almost jumped when they opened, a small dark-haired woman in a silk dress standing with her arms crossed, waiting.
She didn’t look like the help. I mean, the help didn’t dress like that anyplace that I could remember. Kurt got out of the truck and shut his door and I remained frozen in my seat, staring up the broad front steps as a large, bearish man with a cane limped up behind the woman who looked up and back at him. She smiled and said something, crossing her arms over her chest, and rubbing up and down her arms with her hands, the large man behind her looking down at her and placing a hand on the back of her neck, fingers curling both protectively and possessively.
My view of the couple was cut off by Kurt appearing in front of my window, and I admit, I jumped. He gripped the handle on the outside of the truck’s door and pressed the button with his thumb, opening the door.
A rush of cooler air filled the cab, heavily scented with saltwater. I breathed deep, always having loved that smell, and let him help me down from my seat, my body groaning in protest, stiff with the ride and unyielding to the position change from sitting to standing at first.
“Take your time,” Kurt murmured, and I looked up at him.
I wanted to know who these people were, and where we were, but I was struck dumb, almost too afraid to ask.
