Chapter 21
Twenty-One
I'm sitting across from Naomi in a worn vinyl booth, watching her stir cream into her coffee.
The morning light streams through the diner's dusty windows, casting a golden glow across her face. She was, of course, still awake when I got back from preparing for today. But I ordered her to sleep while I sat in the chair. I told her I wasn’t going to let anyone get the drop on us when we were so close to completing our mission.
Which was true enough. But we were both clearly clamoring for round two. And I didn’t trust myself to lie next to her.
And staying up all night watching her sleep hasn’t helped matters. As I sit across from her, she’s wearing jeans and a simple gray tank top, another from the multipack. She is steak in front of a starving dog.
"More coffee, hon?" Maude appears beside our table, coffeepot in hand, a well-worn but genuine smile in place
"Please," Naomi says, flashing that disarming smile of hers. "It's life-giving this morning."
Maude laughs and tops off our cups. "Breakfast will be out in just a minute. Y'all enjoy now."
As she walks away, I scan the diner for the hundredth time. Three truckers at the counter, baseball caps pulled low. Cook visible through the service window.
Under normal circumstances, this would be simple. I could clear this room in seconds if needed. But circumstances aren't normal. Not with Naomi sitting across from me, vulnerable despite the weapon hidden in her purse.
"You look tense," Naomi says quietly, reaching across to touch my hand. I am tense. Some of it is the mission. Some of it is wanting to lick her creamy skin, turned yellow honey by the morning light.
"Just thinking about the drive ahead," I reply, forcing my shoulders to relax.
Maude returns with our plates. "Here you go. Get it while it's hot." There are eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns. Enough food for four people. Giving us all the time we want to slowly eat this. And watch.
"This looks amazing," Naomi gushes, playing her part perfectly. "Doesn't it, honey?"
"Sure does," I agree. Maude leaves us to it, still without revealing any hint that she’s part of something nefarious or that she suspects we’re not who we say we are.
“Sunrises or sunsets?” Naomi asks as she cuts into her pancakes.
We have a long breakfast ahead of us, to give truckers some time to pay and for receipts to be produced before our plan can work.
I’m glad Naomi can think of things to talk about.
Whatever part of my brain that isn’t tracking the possible threats around us is taken up entirely with picturing stripping Naomi naked again and taking her from behind
I take a sip of my coffee, considering. “I really don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Naomi smiles. “I think I like sunrises better. I like the beginning of things better than the end.” She takes a big, cheeky bite of pancake and chews, clearly pleased with herself. I think she can read the effect she is having on me. I suppose it’s a nice distraction for her, too.
I smile at her answer and the pleased look on her face. I never considered it. I probably liked the end of things. Yearned for it. Because I just wanted to get away. I just wanted my life to be over.
But I don’t feel that way anymore, looking at the beautiful woman in front of me. I don’t exactly know what could be if we’re able to pull this off. But if we do, I’m not going to deny myself any longer.
“Sunrises,” I say.
We talk through our meal. It’s easy despite the circumstances. Watching her talk animatedly about things she likes or hates certainly doesn’t dampen my lust for her. But I do treasure any new information I can glean about her.
But as we near clearing our plates, a truck engine roars to life outside as if an alarm went off. It's almost time.
"Ready for the check?" I ask, and she knows what I mean by that. Are you ready to do what we planned?
Her eyes meet mine, all traces of playfulness gone. "More than ready. Let's hit the road."
Let us. Together.
My rock steady heartbeat is a metronome marking time.
The tension coils tight in my gut as I watch Maude punch numbers into the register.
My eyes keep darting between her fingers and the receipt spike next to the machine.
The last trucker just left, his heavy boots scuffing across the linoleum floor.
The diner is empty now. It's time to move.
"Check, please, ma'am," I say, keeping my voice casual.
Maude glances up, coffee pot still in hand. "You sure you don't want another cup, hon?"
Naomi places her hand on mine across the table. "Why not, Walker? We're not in any rush. I need to use the restroom anyway. Enjoy your coffee." She squeezes my shoulder as she stands, I affectionately squeeze her thigh, a silent signal passing between us that we have each other's backs.
I watch her walk away, moving with purpose toward the back hallway. "Maude!" Naomi's voice calls out from the bathroom. "I think there's something wrong with the toilet!"
Maude sighs, setting down the coffee pot. "Let me see, honey," she calls back, disappearing down the hallway.
I move the instant she's out of sight. Three long strides bring me behind the counter. The cook is out back having a smoke— a habit I clocked yesterday.
I try to pick up the card reader.
It's bolted down. Something I didn’t anticipate.
Shit.
I slow my breathing and my heart rate even more as I find the bolts underneath the counter to unscrew. Through the window, I see a semi pulling into the lot. The hiss of air brakes outside tells me the truck has come to a full stop.
My fingers are strong enough to work the bolts loose. When I’m done with those, I start on the power cord and the data connection to the register. The driver climbs down from the cab, adjusting his hat.
I finally get the machine free. The trucker is walking toward the entrance now, keys jingling in his hand. I duck lower behind the counter.
Just as his shadow falls across the doorway, he pats his pockets and turns back toward his truck. Good. Now I just need to get Naomi and get out of here.
"You're fucking dead."
The voice behind me is low and venomous. The cook stands there, cigarette still dangling from his lips, eyes wide with fury.
I move without thinking. My hand strikes his throat, cutting off any sound he might make. In the same fluid motion, I slip behind him, arm locking around his neck in a precise chokehold. He struggles briefly before his body goes limp.
"Let him go."
My blood freezes at the sound. I look up to see Maude standing in the hallway, one arm wrapped around Naomi's waist, the other pressing a small revolver against her temple.
I release the unconscious cook immediately, raising my hands. "I'm sorry, Walker," Naomi says, her eyes meeting mine. There's fear there, but also determination.
I've never been this terrified in my life. Not in combat, not on missions, not even when I was staring down the barrel of her gun in the Montana woods. Back then I had nothing to lose.
Now I do.
"Maude, listen, we're not here to rob you. This place isn't what you think it is."
Maude's face twists into an ugly sneer. "You dumb fuck. I know exactly what this place is." Her grip on Naomi tightens. "And I know exactly who you two are."
My stomach drops as I look past her to the window. Outside, the truckers are converging on the diner, moving with military precision. The sheriff and one of his deputies steps out of his cruiser. They're surrounding us.
"Why didn't you just capture us, then?" I ask, mind racing for a way out.
"We were ordered to wait. To stall you," Maude says, her eyes flicking toward the door.
"Why?"
She doesn't need to answer. The bell above the door chimes as it opens, and I know before I look. I can feel him.
"Logan," I whisper.
"Hello, Walk. Long time," Logan says.
The voice is like a bomb going off, making my ears ring.
I've heard it in my nightmares for years, but never thought I'd hear it again in the waking world.
Logan Black stands in the doorway, silhouetted against the morning light, looking exactly as I remember him: large, powerful, and dangerous, with eyes like empty wells.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady. My mind races through escape scenarios, ways to neutralize Logan, and execute my backup plan. But with Naomi held at gunpoint, none of the math works.
"I was tasked with finding your girl here. A job I do on occasion since I came back to the States. But it was the man helping her who caught my attention. The way he moved. The way he operated. It was familiar. He moved like the man who used to be my team leader. He moved like the man who betrayed me. He moved like the man I’ve thought about hunting and killing every moment of every day. ”
Logan’s large frame moves with that unnatural grace we both share, circling behind the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to spring, but Maude presses the gun harder against Naomi's head.
"That’s what helped me survive, you know, Walk.
Surviving so I could one day hurt you like you hurt me.
After you left me, the enemy captured me.
Locked me away and tortured me. They didn’t even want information.
They just wanted revenge. I understood that desire very well.
I took my time with each of them when I was able to escape. ”
Logan takes a slow sip of the coffee, his eyes locked on mine, a hate I’ve never seen directed at me.
“But it was always you. You were my main mission. My true calling. But now that I’ve found you, I realize torturing and killing you isn’t the best way to hurt you." Logan isn't looking at me when he says that last part. He's looking at Naomi. My heart turns to ice.
"You can’t," I say, the words scraping out of my throat. "Your bosses want her alive." They have to. They’ve had opportunities to kill her, and they haven’t.
Logan smiles, setting down the mug. "Yes, well. We’re strong enough to accomplish the things they ask us to do. But we’re also strong enough to ignore those orders, aren’t we, Walk?”
I know he’s right. And that means nothing is holding him back from hurting her. To torture me.
Naomi's eyes find mine across the room, full of questions I never wanted to answer. Not like this. I see her breathing change, becoming more controlled. She's preparing herself for whatever comes next. God, she's brave.
"Logan," I say quietly, "this is between us. It always has been."
"No," he replies, his voice suddenly harsh. "It could have been. We were teammates. But you left me to be ripped apart by the enemy. Because of your bleeding heart. Your weak stomach for what we did and who we are. Because you care.” He spits that last word out like it’s covered in poison.
“Now I'm going to use that against you." He glances at Maude.
"Take her to the back. I need to get my tools before I can start operating on her. "
Maude hesitates for a moment. I can see she doesn’t like what she’s hearing, but she’d be foolish to go against Logan.
I have to wait. If there’s no opening, there’s no hope.
Time slows as my hand reaches for the remote detonator in my pocket—the contingency plan I set up last night.
My thumb hovers over the button. It’ll only be a split second.
And then it happens, Maude gives in and pulls at Naomi—the gun lifting from her head.
Logan's eyes narrow as he reads my intent a fraction of a second too late.
I press the button.
The kitchen erupts behind him with a deafening roar.
The blast hurls Logan forward across the counter, plates and coffee mugs shattering around him.
The concussion wave slams into my chest, but I'm braced for it.
Maude's grip on Naomi loosens in the shock.
Naomi doesn't hesitate. She drives her elbow hard into Maude's stomach, then twists away as the woman doubles over.
I'm already moving, snatching the receipt spike from the counter. The cook starts to recover, lurching toward me with murder in his eyes. I swing the spike at his neck and it enters with ease, and hot blood sprays across my hand. I don't watch him fall but instead go to Naomi.
Outside, secondary explosions rock the quiet town as the charges I planted on the trucks detonate in sequence. Thick black smoke billows into the morning sky, and panicked shouts fill the air. I grab Naomi's hand, her skin cool against my blood-slicked palm.
"You okay?" I ask, pulling her toward the door.
She nods, eyes wide.
I peek outside. The smoke provides decent cover, but men are scrambling everywhere, some with weapons drawn.
My truck is too far, and even if we reached it, we'd be easy targets on these flat, open roads. Logan won't stay down for long, and when he comes to, he'll be out for blood.
A gunshot cracks through the air, the bullet splintering the doorframe inches from my head. I pull Naomi back inside.
"Come on!" I shout, leading her through the kitchen, past the flames still licking at the walls. We burst through the back door into an alley between buildings.
More explosions rock the town as fuel tanks catch fire. The chaos buys us precious seconds. I scan our surroundings, mapping escape routes. The smoke is thickening, stinging my eyes, but through it I spot one of the abandoned houses I'd explored yesterday.
"This way," I say, pulling Naomi close to my side as we sprint across open ground. We stay low, using vehicles and debris for cover. Another shot rings out, but the shooter's aim is compromised by the smoke.
We reach the house, and I kick in the door. Inside, I head straight for the garage, Naomi right behind me.
"What are you looking for?" she asks, breathless.
"This." I shove aside a heavy storage cabinet, revealing the tunnel entrance I'd discovered yesterday. A dark hole leads straight down, with metal rungs embedded in the concrete wall.
Naomi peers down into the darkness. "Where does it lead?"
"Mexico. I think." I check behind us. No immediate pursuit, but shouts are getting closer. The cartel’s entire army could be waiting for us on the other side, but it's better than staying here.
She doesn’t hesitate and moves toward the ladder. I help her onto it, then follow her down, pulling the cabinet partially back over the entrance to buy us time.
My eyes adjust and I see the narrow and damp tunnel is lit by sparse emergency bulbs casting sickly yellow light every twenty feet or so. The air is thick with the smell of earth and mold. We move as quickly as we can, the sounds of chaos above fading behind us.
I grip her hand tightly as I lead her down the tunnel. I don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other end. But whatever it is, I’ll protect her from it.
Whatever happens, I’m never letting her out of my sight again.