Something to Die For by Kaye Blue
Twenty-Six
Angel
“Spit it out,”Lucas said the next afternoon.
We hadn’t spoken of anything serious since that talk in the kitchen, instead seeming to decide by silent but mutual agreement, to rest. But it looked like that rest was over.
“Spit what out?” I asked.
I tried to sound nonchalant, but the way I nervously smoothed the tablecloth gave me away.
Lucas lifted the corner of his mouth in that half smile that had become familiar—and one of my favorite things in the world. “I wish I’d known you back when. I would have taken all your money.”
“What?” I asked, smiling though I was confused.
“Poker. You can’t bluff for shit, Doc.”
I laughed. “Guilty.”
He sobered. “So what is it?”
I twisted my hands together, nerves flaring up. I’d practiced what I wanted to say, but saying the words, knowing that they meant this time would be over, was harder than I’d expected. But I wasn’t a wimp. So I breathed out and then started.
“I’m sure you’ve seen my father’s four-by-four in the shed.”
He nodded, so I continued.
“It’s in pristine condition. And has a full tank of gas.” I kept my eyes on his, didn’t blink. “And it’s yours.”
“What’s the catch?” he asked.
“What makes you think there’s a catch?” I responded.
“Because there’s always a catch. What’s yours?”
“I know you have a plan, one that doesn’t involve me. But if you could get me to that government camp—”
“No way in hell,” he said.
“You can have the truck, supplies from the house, the shotgun,” I pushed on, refusing to be deterred by his thunderous expression.
“What makes you think I won’t just take it?”
He was trying to provoke me, push me away, but I didn’t let him.
“You could,” I admitted, shrugging and refusing to be intimidated or dissuaded by his power play.
“So why would I take you anywhere?”
“Out of the goodness of your heart,” I said.
He smiled, laughed, then laughed louder.
I didn’t join him.
I didn’t have a leg to stand on, had no leverage, but I couldn’t stay here. The camp was my only option, and he was the best way to make that happen.
When he saw that I wasn’t laughing, he shook his head, his disgust palpable. At me, himself, I couldn’t tell.
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“In this situation, all I have is hope, so I’m hoping.”
There, I had said it. Had told him in so many words that I knew I was at his mercy, had sacrificed a little bit of my pride in the process.
“What supplies are there?”
The question threw me off, but after a moment, I recovered. He’d taken a cursory look around but hadn’t examined the entire place.
I nodded toward the back porch.
“The pantry is back there, and my mother keeps it stocked. So, water and canned goods. We have a top-notch first aid kit, put together by yours truly. Coffee.” I smiled. “The shotgun and ammunition, and my father’s handgun if I can find it.”
He didn’t look impressed. “That’s it?”
“That and the truck with the full tank of gas. That’s all I have to offer,” I said.
“You sure?” he asked, his eyes narrowing, something like levity in them as his gaze swept my body.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh on jump on his lap, so I didn’t do either. Instead, I extended my hand.
“Do we have a deal, Mr. Crowe?”
He chuckled, then took my hand. “We have a deal, Dr. Albert.”