Chapter 26 - Dax
DAX
Six digits.
Six digits stand between me and freedom.
Between Reed and retribution.
Between us and a fortune. Us and a future.
Us. Fuck. I should not already be thinking in terms of that two-letter word, but here I am.
Reed sniffed out a bomb for god’s sake. If he weren’t here tonight, I’d have never spoken to Wendell Blitz and used his own words and tendencies to lead me to the safe.
I might’ve been blown to bits, a fate worse than facing Rawlins again.
Whatever is in this canister could change our lives for the better. It could give us a life together.
The Teton Range begins to glow. The first sliver of sun creeps up on the horizon. It would be a beautiful sight if it weren’t signaling our near demolition. We need to get out of the blast zone, or we’re as good as gone.
A hazy plan forms in my head. I check my watch. Just under forty minutes left before the bomb goes off. We have enough time if we hurry.
“Take this,” I say, handing Reed the canister. “I’m going back in.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Reed asks. His concern for me is palpable.
It’s been so long since someone has cared for me this way.
I’d gotten used to the idea that if I died, I’d have an empty funeral.
The strength with which Reed grips my arm and tries to hold me back fills my stomach with buzzing hope for a life with actual love in it.
I don’t think he realizes that for me, trusting him is a bigger risk than running back inside. But dammit, I’m going to do both.
“I am out of my mind. And I think you like me that way,” I say. Just to prove the point, I tip in and plant a hard kiss on his mouth. The kind of kiss that lays a claim. He’s mine. I’ve never been surer of it.
I push back toward the house with the taste of Reed lingering on my lips.
“I’m coming with you,” Reed says.
I hold up a halting hand without looking back. “Stay where you are, boy. I’ll only be a minute. Do as you’re told,” I say in my bossy Dom voice.
Whether it’s out of fear or obedience, Reed freezes, and I sigh with relief.
I rush back upstairs. I snatch my camping bag, my hunting knife, and every trace of me that I can think of.
I throw clothes back on in a rush. I leave Reed’s suitcase and toiletries as-is.
We can’t have his luggage weighing us down.
The plan won’t work if anyone suspects he knew what was about to happen.
If I’m right about what’s inside the canister, he can buy himself brand-new designer digs before long.
When I return to Reed, I grab his hand. We break for the trees and crash through the branches, heading straight toward the Teton Range, which towers over us.
“Where are we going?” Reed coughs out. Resistance tightens his arm as if he’s unsure whether he should follow.
Doesn’t he know he’s going to be beside me for all eternity now?
Our souls are entwined by our circumstances, our chemistry.
It’s a fusion so strong that nothing could break it. Not even a billionaire’s evil plots.
“Unless you want to be a pile of body parts, pick up the pace and trust me. I won’t steer us wrong,” I say, tugging him onward.
Just up ahead, there’s a bit of a valley between the property line and the tributary of the Snake River that brushes along the grassy land. Even in the murky blue of pre-dawn, I can see and hear the water swiftly flowing.
I slow us to a crawl, catching my breath.
The majesty of the vista versus the hell we ran from makes me feel like I’m straddling the border of the past and the present. The open sky, breathable air, and the heat of Reed’s hand still in mine ground me in the moment.
“What now?” Reed asks. His eyes dance over my face. I wonder if I look as magnificent as he does in the soft blue-purple light of not-yet morning.
“Let’s get this open before the house goes,” I say, taking the cylindrical safe from him.
“Shouldn’t we keep going? Get farther away?” Reed asks. Beside the river, there’s a trodden path, an offshoot of a marked trail from a park closer to town. It’s the route I plan to take back to civilization.
I shake my head. “We need to stay put for now.”
“Why?” Reed asks. Some of that trust from before leaks out of his expression. He utters my name with force. He’s clearly worried I’m going to do an about-face. I wish he could read my mind, so he knows that stabbing him in the back is the furthest thing from my thoughts right now.
“Once the blaze starts, you’ll have to go back into the yard. You need to be on the property when the fire department shows up,” I say, wishing it weren’t the case.
Reed gapes at me. “I’m not going back into that deathtrap. What if it collapses from the fire? What if I get hurt?”
I take one of Reed’s shaking hands in mine.
I wish I could take away his worry. Hell, I’d even take his place to make this easier for him.
But like he said earlier, there are lessons he needs to learn for himself.
Our plan is already tenuous. We can’t risk the police asking why the house sitter was suspiciously not home when the car exploded.
“I can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt, but you will survive if you listen to me and follow my instructions carefully,” I say.
“We’re back to that again, are we?” Reed asks, skepticism in his furrowed brow.
I swipe my thumb between his eyes and trace it down the slant of his nose.
A small, squiggly line of dirt appears, the shape of a lowercase S, like the body of a snake.
I realize there’s nothing cold about the blood pumping in my veins.
For this boy, I’m hot-blooded and fully human.
I’d risk life and limb to make sure he lives to see another day.
Lives to see a thousand more beautiful days.
He must understand how vulnerable I feel as I say, “I will never, ever let anything hurt you, Reed Thompson. There won’t be much, if any, evidence to suggest a bomb.
As you said, the car has already been recalled, and most police divisions, no matter how much they don’t like the person, won’t want to get on a billionaire’s bad side by investigating too closely.
With any luck, the deck will be destroyed and the broken-up hot tub will look like collateral from the blast. Once you see that the worst is over, approach, drop the safe back where we found it, and give the property a wide berth as you run up toward the driveway and down to the neighbor to call for help. Do you understand me?”
His eyes remain huge and frozen on my face. I can’t tell if he’s absorbing any of this or if the shock of all that’s happened tonight has sent his brain into hibernation.
“Nova,” I say, switching tactics, using a more formal tone. “That is your mission. The fate of the universe rests in your hands, or Dr. Nebula succeeds. Do you read me, Ranger?”
Life pours back into Reed’s face. Pink returns to his cheeks. He animates enough to give a quick, soldier-like nod.
“But first, we need to crack this safe,” I say, giving the top a quick twist in the hopes that maybe the lock was never set properly. No luck.
“What if we don’t get it open in time?” he asks.
I sigh. “We have to. There’s no other choice.”
I’m heartened and relieved when he grabs for the canister and starts spinning the dials.
We try the obvious combinations. One through six.
Six through one. Wendell’s birthday—which Reed had memorized from his book.
Wendell’s wedding anniversary—also memorized from the book.
The date Arrow Mart launched, and the date Arrow Mart went public on the stock exchange.
At a loss, we even try Reed’s birthday, knowing it’s a stretch, but needing to check to be sure.
As time ticks away, I grow more frustrated.
My big, slick fingers become clumsy. I roll through numbers, forgetting which combinations I already tried.
I pull a small notebook and pencil from my pack and hand them to Reed, asking him to keep track for us.
But I’m not speaking clearly, and he’s writing too slow, and the sun is rising higher in the sky as if being hoisted by a fisherman’s line.
“Fuck!” I shout, shaking the safe. A few hard-sounding small objects clank around inside. I wish I had super strength to crush the canister. “If I were a robot, I’d have cracked this already. Maybe Wendell Blitz is right. Humans just can’t compete.”
Defeat is a stench wafting off my skin. I’ve never been one to pity myself. Not even when I was in Rawlins. I kept my chin up because that’s the only way to look ahead.
But now? I’ve not only failed myself, but I’ve failed Reed, and that’s inexcusable. Too many other people have already failed this beautiful, intelligent man, and I don’t want to add my name to that awful list.
“Hey,” Reed says, reaching out a hand. “Hey.” He tenderly caresses the side of my face. I shut my eyes and lean into his hand. He pets my beard and moves in closer. His blue eyes flicker with acceptance before he inches in and kisses me. “Just by finding it, we’ve won. At least a little, right?”
I huff out a breath. Snake River rushes below, fast-moving rapids that I could fling myself into. Let them carry me away like I wanted people to think by sinking my ID in the Popo Agie.
Reed follows my eyes. “We could toss this in the river, and it’ll be gone. His insurance policy will be lost forever. That’s a sort of win.”
“A half-win,” I mutter. I wish my brain weren’t so all-or-nothing. Obsessive or disinterested. Now or not at all.
“Half is better than none,” he says, voice softer now.
Reed’s youthful optimism is a wedge to my chest. I hiss open for him.
I’ve lived too long in the tight skin of my own pessimism.
Even just for the next twenty minutes, if I can shed that and bask with Reed Thompson in the mounting morning sunlight, I will.
He makes me feel new, like I can be better. Maybe even good for him.