No Ordinary Day , Tate, Harley [best ereader for pdf and epub .TXT] 📗

beats sleeping on the floor.” She pecked him on the check before fluffing her pillow and laying down.

“If we go with Vince to his cabin, there won’t be a bed at all.”

“Then we better savor this one, right?” Gloria snuggled down deeper into the mattress and closed her eyes.

Raymond watched her, a host of thoughts percolating in his mind.

After a few minutes, his wife blinked her eyes open. “What is it?”

“How do you always know when I’m thinking through a problem?”

She smiled and sat up, waiting.

Raymond rubbed the stubble across his chin. “I’m not sure going with Vince is the right call.”

Gloria raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

He hesitated. “I think we might be better off on our own.”

“You mean away from John.”

“He’s a liability, hon. As long as he’s attached to Emma, then we’re at risk.”

“Even though he’s saved our lives?”

“He was hired to kill you.”

“Emma trusts him.”

“Do you?”

Gloria thought it over. “Not entirely. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Why?” Raymond reached for her hand. “Why can’t we just pack up the Explorer and take off? You said you’ve always wanted to see the Southwest. We could go there. Find a little spot in New Mexico or Arizona and get lost.”

Gloria squeezed his hand. “You’re forgetting why we’re in this mess to begin with.”

“CropForward.”

“Me.” She leaned closer. “I was the one who first brought the seeds to Emma’s attention. I was the one who roped Zach into it. If I hadn’t said anything, if I hadn’t set that all in motion, none of this would be happening.”

“You didn’t know how far it would go. You thought—”

“It doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is where we are.” She reached up and palmed his chest. “I love that you want to keep me safe. That you want to take us far away from here. But we can’t leave until Emma and Holly are safe, too. They didn’t ask to be hunted. I owe them my support.”

Raymond shook his head. “If you asked either one of them, they would tell you this is crazy.”

“Maybe so, but it’s how I feel. I’d never be able to live with myself if we left and something happened to them.”

“What about John? If you’re so convinced he’s going to protect them, can’t we leave them in his hands?”

Gloria shook her head with a smile. “You told me yourself he’s half-dead. He’s not going to be much good in the short term.”

Raymond stared at the woman he loved, conflicted and frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to drive a wedge between them, but he knew leaving was the right call. With the Explorer and a share of the food and water, they would be self-sufficient, mobile, and far away from John and his company’s threat.

Pringles rose up from his spot at the foot of the bed and eased his way between them, turning around twice before laying down smack in the middle.

Raymond reached out and gave the little dog a scratch. “What if we keep our options open?”

“How so?”

“Stay with the group, see Emma and Holly to Vince’s place, and then reassess. Would you consider leaving then?”

Gloria thought it over. “Possibly. If they seem safe, John is on the mend, and there’s no more attacks, then sure. We can talk about leaving.”

Raymond exhaled in relief. It might not be the resolution he wanted, but compromise in a marriage meant just that. He leaned across Pringles and kissed his wife. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “Anytime.” She snuggled back under the covers and within a minute her breath became regular and even. Raymond leaned back and closed his eyes. They would head to the cabin, give it a once over, and be on their way.

In the interim, if the situation changed...

Gloria might not like it, but Raymond would be ready to leave at any time. If they kept to their own vehicle, managed to keep a good supply of food with them at all times, they would be prepared. If something happened on the road, they could take off. Gloria wouldn’t like it, but if it meant a choice between saving her life or watching her die, he’d do whatever it took.

Whether she approved or not.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

John

John didn’t know where the pain ended and he began. From the swelling across the bridge of his nose, to the black eye, to the bullet wound that still hadn’t healed, to the monster gash sneaking down his calf, he was a bit worse for wear.

He took a swig from the vodka bottle and leaned into Tank, rubbing the German shepherd’s fur. “What the hell am I doing, huh, buddy?”

Tank grunted as if in agreement.

“I should be a thousand miles away from here, living the best hitman life. Cash, women, plenty of ammo. Enjoying the end of the world in style. Not sitting out here on the porch in the middle of Mississippi trying not to die.”

John took another swig of vodka. “At least I have the liquor.”

The hinges on the front door groaned and he cursed himself, hoping she hadn’t heard his words full of self-pity. That’s what I get for talking to a dog.

She eased down to sit beside him, and John leaned back. She’d showered, fiery hair turned auburn with water as it fell around her shoulders. She wore what he could only guess was Sandra’s castoff: some silky floral wrap with lace lining the hem. It wasn’t her style, but it suited her all the same.

Emma wasn’t cut out for this sort of life. The running. The danger. The thrill. She should be at home, curled up with a good book, thinking about how to create a better tomato. Not figuring out a strategy to survive another day.

She tucked the silky fabric around her knees and smiled. “I’m surprised you’re conscious.”

John shrugged and downed another glug of the clear, burning liquid before holding it out for her.

She shook her head. “Liquor is the last thing I need.”

He grunted in response.

They sat together in companionable silence,