Chapter 30 – Grayson
Chapter Thirty
Grayson
Icut a deal with her to earn her brother’s freedom.
I know I shouldn’t have done something so reckless without Cody’s permission, but I figure it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
I let her brother go right at the border like I promised.
She says goodbye to him and he leaves her without a care in the world for what she just did to earn her freedom.
She didn’t have the upper hand despite what she might have thought with that gun.
I just saw an opportunity and I took it.
Like I said, I’ll worry about the fall out later.
I already called Cody to tell him that I let the bastard go over the border and I have my assurances that he won’t be coming back.
I might have exaggerated the trouble I’m in, but other than that, I did nothing wrong except look out for myself. It’s what anyone else would do in my position. The woman sitting next to me in the front seat tries to act like she’s totally calm with what she just did.
“Do you think your brother was worth it?” I ask her.
The past few hours have been a whirlwind.
She spent both bullets in her pistol and doesn’t have anymore, but in the end, we both got what we wanted.
She seems too competent for me to let her go.
I made a judgment call that might lose my spot in the club – unless I play it right.
Listen, I have the woman subdued and a promise from that bastard that he would never come back and bother Cody again. He’s not just afraid of Cody – there are immigration enforcement agents after him and his sister wants him over the border too.
I struck a deal – perhaps with the devil judging by the way this caramel-skinned creature glares at me.
She reminds me of a mountain lion. Cruel.
Quiet. Calculating. I’m glad she ran out of bullets, but it wouldn’t shock me if she procured a knife the second I turn my back on her.
I won’t be stupid enough to let that happen.
The sun spills through the windows onto her jeans, which cling to her petite thighs. She has a lot of attitude for a woman that small. I shouldn’t stare, but there isn’t much she can do to stop me.
She looks over at me with angry eyes that seem too light for a woman with skin that dark. They’re natural, to be sure, but unnerving if you’ve never seen a woman with dark skin and those grayish-green eyes.
“That’s not for you to decide,” she says.
I don’t know if I’m correct about her name. It’s not a common one, and I’m almost scared to ask her again, lest she call me a racist or something. I avert my gaze temporarily and make my request.
“Spell that name for me again.”
“Herleen.” She says tersely, then she spells it out. H-E-R-L-E-E-N.
I hear a slight accent, but it’s only slight, and I can’t place it.
She doesn’t look over at me, but I can’t stop taking her all in.
She couldn’t be more than a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet.
Considering that, she didn’t do too badly controlling either the bike or the gun.
Her brother seemed happy to see her, but she wasn’t happy to see him.
I negotiated with her because of how she looks, although she thinks that little pistol scared the crap out of me. She might have talked tough, but she clearly stole that bike and she didn’t have a plan for getting rid of it.
“Where are your things?” I ask her. “We can pick up your satchel or sleeping bag or whatever you brought out here.”
I want her to tell me more about where she came from and how long she planned to stay, but Herleen responds stiffly, guarding all the necessary information close..
“I don’t need my things.”
“So you stole a bike and stalked me with a gun to find your brother with no plans about what would happen next?”
I can’t imagine what situation would possess Herleen to do something like that. I just want her to look over at me. I know she already agreed to do so much more, but she’s making it clear to me that she doesn’t plan on liking it.
“I came to drag his ass back to Canada before ICE got him. You were just in the way.”
“Bad luck.”
“You’re right. It was.”
“Listen, I could have shot you both and left you for dead. Maybe I’m not a bad guy?”
Herleen looks over at me, her strange eyes scan my face. I feel a little flutter of awareness. It’s kinda hot having her hate me like this. She makes an unimpressed quiet scoff, just loud enough that I can hear but quiet enough that she has plausible deniability.
“It never occurred to me,” she says.
“What about clothes? A toothbrush. Money. A phone.”
She looks over at me with slightly flared nostrils.
“How hard is it to go to a Walmart?”
There’s nothing going to break her down, is there?
“Money?”
“I think you can afford to get me a few things from Walmart,” she says. “Especially considering the agreement we just made.”
Our eyes meet again. I feel the tiniest flicker of guilt and then suppress it.
“Fine. I’ll take you to Walmart.”