12 - Peyton
PEYTON
We didn’t stop. Not even once the sky started to lighten.
Colson drove like he was more machine, than man.
But damn, was he a man, too. Those broad shoulders guided hands that were steady on the wheel, connected by deliciously thick arms all corded with muscle.
I felt warmly reassured, watching him scan the windows and mirrors every few seconds.
He did it with a ruthless efficiency and military focus that allowed me to relax into my seat.
Beside him, Ripley rode shotgun. Hour by hour I watched the stubble grow on that square jaw, as he gazed stoically out the window.
His eyes were sharp, his big hands relaxed but ready for whatever came next.
I started to feel a little bad about nailing him in the family jewels, but reminded myself that I had little choice at the time.
Then there was Theo, sitting quietly alongside me.
We were close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, especially when, every so often, his thigh would brush against mine.
Constantly bent over his keyboard, there was a silent strength to him that I’d always admired.
The man who’d sipped wine and lost terribly at backgammon to me had an inner confidence that was more intellectual than physical.
Even though, physically, he was quite a specimen as well.
My head still ached, but it no longer swam with the dizziness I’d felt before. I couldn’t complain, though. I was still here. I was still alive.
All thanks to them.
The sun was just coming up when we pulled into the rest stop. Colson killed the engine, leaving us sitting there in silence for the first time since the chaos of our escape.
“Tracker still dead?”
Theo confirmed the good news with a nod. “I severed the power source. It’s useless now.”
Ripley got out and gassed us up, while Colson kept watch. In the meantime, Theo rummaged around in the Suburban’s rear hatch. He returned to the back seat with a blanket, then sat down and draped it over us.
“Thanks,” I smiled, grateful for the addition. With the rear window shot out, things got cold quickly.
“Don’t mention it,” Theo smiled back. He pointed to the bump on my head. “After that, it’s the least we can do.”
I pulled the blanket up around me, just as the others returned. For a moment, we all stared at each other.
“Donovan tried to kill me,” I murmured.
“Yes,” agreed Colson. “He did.”
“On my wedding day.”
Ripley chuckled gruffly. “Really? That’s your big take away, here?”
“No, I mean, he wanted me gone right away. No talking. No convincing. Just… dead.”
Colson nodded solemnly. “I believe the word he used was ‘eliminated.’”
“Yes, but why?”
Their eyes shifted to Theo this time. So did mine.
He closed the keyboard and pulled out the locket.
“See this?” he asked, letting it dangle. “It’s way more than just a tracker. It’s a military-grade micro-drive, specific to Donovan Prescott.” He swung his gaze my way. “Every dirty little secret your fiancé ever wanted to hide is right here, encrypted, within this tiny silver thing.”
“Ex-fiancé,” I corrected him. “And what kind of secrets?”
“Passkeys and decryption information for non-laundered crypto, and off-country bank accounts,” Theo began. “Shell corporation structures. Shadow conglomerates. Not to mention a shit-ton of evidence on his worst enemies, and closest friends.”
“So… blackmail.”
“Yes. Everyone’s dirty laundry,” Theo confirmed. “But also, Donovan’s own. Enough to destroy him ten times over.”
“And I almost smashed it.”
“You sure did.”
Anger flared again, somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach. But I also knew it was that anger that kept me from being afraid.
“If all this information was so important to him, why drape it around my neck?” I asked.
“Because when you’re as powerful as Donovan Prescott, you make powerful enemies,” Ripley answered.
“If his properties were raided, or his computers stolen, no one would find what isn’t there.
Even safe deposit boxes can be broken into, identities impersonated.
But hanging this information around the neck of his wife?
” He shrugged. “That’s the one way to ensure he always knew where it was.
That he would always have access to it.”
I stared at the locket again and frowned. I thought about Grace, the sister that never was. The picture perfect fiancé, who never truly loved me. I was nothing more than a pawn to him; a tool to be used. Another pretty jewel in Donovan Prescott’s crown.
“You have to give it back to him,” I murmured quietly.
“What?”
“He’s after me, not you. And he’ll never stop coming for this thing.”
“Peyton—”
“I’m serious!” I exclaimed. “Tell him the whole thing was a clusterfuck because he sent reinforcements prematurely. That somehow I slipped away, but you still managed to recover the drive.”
“That’s not going to work,” said Colson.
“Sure it will. He’ll have to believe it. And he’ll—”
“We already ditched our phones,” said Theo, patting the laptop. “Severed all electronic connections. The four of us are dark now. Totally off the grid.”
“Yes, but you can say—”
“Besides,” Colson went on, “Ripley and I already told him to fuck off.”
Ripley grinned, and his smile was strikingly seductive. He extended two big, tattooed arms, and cracked his knuckles.
“Y—You did?”
He whirled in his seat, to look directly at me. His expression was darkly serious.
“I told him that I ever saw him again, I would kill him,” he growled. “Slowly.”
The way his mouth moved was almost hypnotic. The grin faded, and darkness took hold. In that moment, I believed every word of what he said. Unequivocally. Without even a shadow of doubt.
“But you know what he can do, what he’s capable of,” I said breathlessly. “You work for him.”
Colson looked at the others for a moment, then at me.
“Not anymore.”
He started the engine and we were moving again, plunging on toward our grimly uncertain future. Whatever that future entailed, I knew we were in it together; the four of us inextricably tied, through fate and circumstance and a mutual hatred for Donovan Prescott.
And so I sat there, surging forward, warmed by the heated leather seats and the comfort of being surrounded by men who, quite literally, would kill to protect me.
As the landscape blurred by on either side, I realized it was the first time in forever that I wasn’t alone.
I was falling forward. Falling into danger.
My gaze shifted over them, one by one. It lingered upon shoulders and arms. On chiseled jawlines and bulging biceps and strong, capable hands.
And in that moment; a deliciously unsettling truth settled over me.
I might not just be falling into danger.
But also, into them.