Chapter 36
CERTIFIED PRE-OWNED
SEVEN
Ipark in the vacant space right in front of Aurora's walk-up and quickly tighten the light scarf and pull down the hat, checking if the dirty-blond-and-copper beard is askew in the mirror.
When I'm satisfied I look at least semi-passable as a dude in his fifties who spends his weekends playing board games and shopping at Costco, I exit the car.
The Blundstone boots and cargo pants were a step too far, in my opinion, but apparently, Melvin Christopher Davis doesn't go anywhere without either, and Atty is nothing if he isn't fucking thorough.
Clearing my throat, I rap on her door seven times in a little jingle, like I always do. I'm rewarded with several loud barks from Ellie, and I can hear Ro on the other side telling her to calm down.
It opens a second later, and Ro staggers back a step from the vision of me in her doorway that must be damn near cinema quality because it takes her a minute to recover.
Ellie tackles me, jumping up for pets, almost dragging the scarf from my neck.
I grimace and lift her paws from my chest, fixing the fucking plaid monstrosity around my neck before it can slip enough to reveal my triple seven tattoo.
"I missed you, too, Ellie," I laugh, modulating my voice so it doesn't sound quite like my own.
Ro glances past me, to her foster father's car in the drive, and the surprise on her face turns sour.
"Hey, kiddo," I say in my best dad impression, and open my arms nice and wide. I think I've done a fucking phenomenal job, but the way she looks like she wants to kill me, I'm second-guessing myself.
I see the moment she remembers she needs to play along and begrudgingly paints a smile on her face. "Hey, Chris."
Ro steps into my embrace, and I squeeze her, lifting her feet right off the ground. "There's my girl."
When I set her down, I stalk past her into the apartment. "Where are your things? We need to hit the road if we expect to make it back before it gets too late. Grace wants to stay up to see you when we get in."
"It's just this," she says, indicating the bag by the door while Ellie trails me into the apartment. There's concern knotted between her shoulders, but there's no need for that.
Once I'm out of sight of the eyes outside, I curl my fingers beneath the edge of Ro's sweater and pull her to me, capturing her face in my hand, but she stops me firmly.
"Absolutely not," she whispers, giving me a hard look.
I hold back a laugh. Remembering who I look like.
Not exactly a fun role-play scenario. "Oops."
When I pull away, she shakes her head.
I wink as I collect her bag from the front door and hustle to the car, tossing it into the trunk while she locks up and calls for Ellie to get into the back seat.
When I start the car, my music—well, Chris's music—starts to play. Atty's intel said he only listens to this soft rock station on Sirius radio, so guess who now has a subscription? Yep, Atty does.
I turn it up a few notches louder as we pull out of the driveway and onto the road.
This is the part that could fuck us, and honestly, I was surprised Atticus even allowed this level of risk, but he does have contingencies in place if this doesn't go how we want it to.
My gaze flits to the rearview, and a growl leaves my throat when I see one of the SUVs pull out onto the road behind us to follow.
Fuck.
Aurora notices, too. She's sitting up stiffer than a corpse in the passenger seat.
I slide a gloved hand onto her thigh.
"We can talk now," I tell Ro. "Quietly. They won't be able to discern conversation over the engine and music, even if they try to listen."
"What is this?" she whispers. "Please tell me you did not steal my foster dad's car and raid his closet?"
I smirk. "Do you really think we'd do all that to be able to bring you home for a week?"
She bites her lower lip.
"Yeah, no, we definitely would, but don't worry, this isn't Chris's car." I give the dash a little pat. "She's certified pre-owned. Same make and model. Same year."
"But the plates—"
"Cloned. And these threads, although tragic, can be purchased at any sporting goods store in the state."
"So you didn't—"
"No, Ro, we didn't fuck with your foster parents' shit.
If Atty had even suggested that, I'd have his head.
This, though—" I squeeze the wheel. "This made sense.
You haven't been to see them in a while, and you mentioned you've been texting back and forth about a visit, so the groundwork was already laid.
He logged a ten-minute call from Chris to you a few days ago, where you could've conceivably made these plans, and voila, we've got a week of freedom. "
Why isn't she smiling?
She looks pointedly in the rearview.
"Did you not see the tail?"
"Oh that. Yeah, we'll deal with that if needed."
"How?"
"Patience, Ro. And a little trust. It'll work out."
She falls silent, and Ellie tries to wiggle up between the seats, looking for pets.
"Ellie, sit nice," Ro tells her, but I give her a little rub on the head before she goes. She'll have to wait for a proper scratch until it's safe for me to get these gloves off.
"Want to talk about yesterday?" I ask. "How did it go at lunch?"
Her throat bobs as she stares out the passenger window. "Can we do the debrief later? So I only have to do it once."
"That bad, huh?"
She shakes her head. "No, it was fine, just… I hate breathing the same air as him."
Is she lying?
I must be misreading her.
She has to know by now that she can tell me anything.
"I get it."
She sighs.
"You had Atticus worried there for a minute, though, when you didn't call as soon as you got back to the apartment."
"Can a girl not use the bathroom?"
I hold my hands up before setting them back on the wheel. "Didn't say that."
Fuck, she's wound tight. And I know what she needs to help herself relax. That was the whole point of this week, after all. A break from the pretense. From the stress and having to wear the mask.
Ro shifts in her seat, still keeping an eye on the SUV in our rearview every few minutes as we leave Boone and get on the highway. We fall into a tense silence for a solid twenty miles before I start to worry our little friend thirty yards back may not back off.
But when the next exit comes up, our tail takes it, and we both sigh in relief.
"Fuck." I laugh. "Didn't think it would take them that long to run the plates. Another ten miles and we'd have missed the drop point for the car."
"The what?"
I shake my head, shedding the beard, scarf, and gloves, then the hat. I run tatted fingers through my hair and tuck the shit behind my seat.
Ro takes me in as I fiddle with the stations until I find something a little more to our taste.
"Better?" I ask with an arched brow, rubbing a palm over my jaw where it still itches from the beard.
"Much. Don't ever dress up as my foster dad again. And definitely don't try to kiss me while dressed as him, either."
She makes a face and turns to continue staring out the window. As the last bit of light leaves the sky, the hollows beneath her eyes darken, and I have to wonder if she's slept at all since I spent the night. Judging by those dark circles, if she has, it's definitely not been enough.
No wonder she's so wound up.
"Hey," I say, pulling her attention back to me with a finger hooked beneath her chin. "Are you okay?"
Her jaw tenses, but she nods. Then something in her eyes breaks. "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"I'm just—" She motions with her hands. "Ugh, I don't know, I'm frustrated, but not at you, and I know it's coming out that way, and I can't seem to stop it, and I'm really…really…like—"
She makes a sound of frustration in the back of her throat and presses her hands to her eyes, rubbing them a little too hard.
I brush the pad of my thumb over her cheek, drawing her attention back to me. "Hey, come here, Ro."
She leans in against me and sighs as I wrap an arm around her back, holding her close while I steer one-handed. "What do you say when this is all done, we spend a few months someplace warm? No work. No stress. Just palm trees and ocean waves."
"Sounds like heaven," she sighs.
"How about Bali? Or maybe the Maldives?"
"Yes, please."
"Done. And, Ro?"
"Mm?"
"No one expects you to be perfect all the time."
She leans into me more fully, and I feel the moment she lets herself completely relax.
After a few more minutes, we arrive at the rest stop, where our resident mechanic—and the guy who gets rid of vehicles for us on occasion—is already waiting. He's parked by the motel, and I pull up in the vacant spot beside him.
He's out of the car he came in before we've even parked, pulling his jacket tight to himself against the harsh chill of the evening.
"Hey, Seven," he says, keeping his distance as I step out. I'll never get why he's so fucking scared of me. The guy sees me covered in blood one time, and he thinks I'm the devil. Unless he has sins that need confessing or intends to betray us, we're cool.
"Jack," I say. "Thanks for doing this."
He nods several times. "Of course, of course. You know, Atticus calls, and I answer. Whatever you guys need, I'm your guy."
I'm sure the exorbitant payments help, but I don't say as much.
"Hi," Ro says, shivering as she comes around the car to stand next to me.
"This the girl? Wow, she's real pretty."
"Careful, Jack."
He pales, and Ro elbows me.
"Thank you," Aurora tells Jack with a smile, and I think we're done here.
"Okay. That's enough of that. Ro, give me your phone."
That little knot forms between her brows again, but she reaches into her pocket and hands me her cell phone, which I then hand to Jack. "You have the address?"
He nods. "Yep, yep. All set."
"And Atticus already gave you instructions?"
"Yep. Got it. The phone is to stay at the address for the week, aside from taking it on a few outings around town. He gave me a whole schedule."
Of course he did.
Jack's eyes flit back to Ro, lingering for a second too long.
I clap a hand on his shoulder and steer him back to his vehicle. "Better get going, Jack."
He clears his throat. "Got it. Yep. I'm gone."
Ro watches him go with a mix of emotions on her face, and I wonder what she's thinking.
"Don't worry," I offer. "Atty already got you another phone."
She sighs, and her breath clouds the air in front of her face.
"Let's get you home."