Chapter 22 #3
I laugh softly and frame her face with my hands. With my thumbs, I wipe away the tears and lean in to kiss her pouty lips. “You’ll get a redo, my darling. When we do this for real.”
I bend forward again, giving a longer, tender kiss, and then rest my forehead on hers, keeping her close, reluctant to let her go. “I love you, Andrea.”
“I love you, Alexander. Sorry, Andrew.”
I shake my head, already regretting the names I picked. I should have known it would lead to far more teasing than I’m comfortable with. But as long as she’s enjoying herself, it doesn’t matter.
Lex’s plan leads to a small farm near the Canadian border.
The farm itself is of no consequence, but the five hundred acres that surround it are.
During the drive, Lex explained to me how the land sits halfway between the US and our northern neighbors, and how an unmonitored dirt road will allow us to cross the border without anyone ever knowing it.
This was part of his original plans to escape, something he’d carefully prepared in the event that he’d need to vanish.
About seven years ago, he bought the farm and its land during a foreclosure, only to return it to its owners.
In exchange, they would have to keep a car in an old, unused barn and allow him to cross their land, no questions asked.
They’d immediately accepted, thankful they could keep their family farm, which was passed down for six generations.
I watched, wondering how the fuck I ended up with a better-looking Ethan Hunt as Lex removed the thick cloth that protected the Jeep waiting for him, with Canadian plates.
Then he walked up to a rusty can with paintbrushes in it to take out the car’s key.
I felt bad for not helping as he loaded our luggage yet again, and then listened as he explained we needed to get rid of any potential evidence that could make anyone realize we’d smuggled ourselves to Canada.
And by that, to my dismay, meant my car.
The sight of it slowly disappearing into a large pond near the barn breaks my heart far more than it should.
It’s old, smells weird, and has been making a worrying noise that probably would have cost me thousands of dollars to fix.
But it was my valiant companion, and seeing it disappear like this hurts.
“Was this really necessary?” I lament.
He shrugs, and I swear to God there’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. “We could have put it under the cloth in the barn instead. It’s unlikely anyone would have discovered it.”
“What?! Then why are we drowning my car?!”
“Because it’s safer that way. And it feels amazing.”
“Speak for yourself,” I mumble.
We watch until the car disappears under the dark surface of the water, until the bubbles have stopped coming up.
“You owe me a car,” I say with a scowl.
“Does it also have to look like it’ll fall apart if we go above sixty miles per hour?”
The humor in his tone, as well as the underlying glee of finally getting rid of my car, has me struggling to hold back a grin. It was a very shitty car indeed.
“Come on, grumpy,” Lex encourages, resting a soft hand on my lower back. “We still have a long drive ahead of us.”
“How long?”
“About seven hours.”
“Jesus Christ, Lex. We could have been sipping margaritas in the Bahamas by then.”
“I promise you’ll like our destination, freckles.”
Still somewhat reluctant, I follow him to the Jeep. He helps me get in, adjusts the seat to my preference as he did before, and then hops into the driver’s seat. Before he can start the engine, his phone rings. A reminder of some sort.
He quickly checks it out and says, “Time for you to take another pill.”
“Oh … right.” The pain in my shoulder has been increasing insidiously for a moment now, and I know that if I don’t take my painkillers, it’ll become unbearable within the next hour. Lex twists around to find the pills, a bottle of water, and hands them to me one after the other.
“I also have pills that can help you sleep, if you want,” he says.
“Good idea. It’ll help make those seven hours more tolerable.
” He hands me a tablet, which I promptly swallow with a gulp of water.
I then watch as he returns the pills to the bag and sets the water in the holder between us, on my side.
“If you’re ever tired of programming, you’d make a fantastic nurse,” I tease.
“Wait until I’ve changed your bandage and say that again,” he says with a slight grimace.
“You’ll be the one doing it?”
“I’ve been … educating myself on the matter. Watching the nurses at the hospital do it, and online videos, as well as medical textbooks. We’ll be too remote to have a nurse come in and do it. Plus, I don’t want anyone to know we’re there. That way, there are fewer chances we get recognized.”
“Smart. What if it gets infected, though?”
“With your antibiotics, it shouldn’t. But of course, we’d seek professional help in that case.”
Lex starts the car and drives, soon arriving at the farm’s dirt road. We pass a couple of hundred yards from the farm, and I observe it with attention, wondering if they’re watching us.
“Aren’t you worried they’ll denounce you?” I wonder, suddenly anxious.
“They never met me. I acquired their farm through one of my shell companies, so they never knew my name. And all our communications have been via encrypted calls with my voice slightly altered.”
The small space is silent for a moment before I say, “You’ve thought this whole thing through, haven’t you?”
“Down to the most minute detail. Adding you to the plan required some adjustments, but nothing I couldn’t work out. Originally, I was meant to cross the border, lie low for a month or two, and then book a private jet to take me somewhere that doesn’t extradite to the US.”
“We can still do that,” I try. “I’m not sure if Belize extradites or not …”
“You’re relentless,” he chuckles.
“I thought I was getting a sandy and sunny vacation. I took a bullet for you, that’s the least you could do.”
This further teasing flops, and his expression turns grave, face closed off as he navigates through the road to avoid as many potholes as possible for my comfort.
Fuck, it’s too early for this kind of joke.
I wish I could take his hand on the console between us and squeeze it, but he’s on my injured side, and turning around would be too painful.
So, instead, I twist my face toward him with a gentle smile.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.”
“You’d do the same for me in a heartbeat, and I know that, baby.”
That’s not enough to appease his guilty conscience, his eyes still hard under his frown, focused on the road before us.
“Tell you what,” I start, forcing my voice to be as light as possible. “Next time there’s some saving to be done, I’ll let you do it. I promise I won’t interfere,” I say, drawing a cross over my heart with my good hand.
He gives me a brief side-eye glance but says nothing.
Determined to lighten up the mood, I say, “We should have a backstory.”
“For what?”
“Well, how we met, when we got married, all that. In case we encounter people and they ask questions, you know?”
“We won’t encounter anyone.”
“It’s just in case,” I insist.
Resigned, he nods. He might find it silly, but I can already tell he’ll secretly enjoy it.
“Hmm … Have you created fake identities for us yet?”
“I didn’t have time for it. But if we don’t come across anyone, there shouldn’t be a need for it.”
“I see … Okay, we met six years ago, at a bar. Dated for two years, then engaged for one, and we got married three years ago.”
“A bar?”
“I was on an evening out with some friends.”
“And what was I, of all people, doing at a bar?”
“You were celebrating signing a big client with your associates. You’re a successful architect.”
“That’s too easy to disprove.”
“Right. Hm … Stock trader? A man of the shadows.”
“That works.”
“Well then, you had a bad day and came to the bar to decompress, then you saw me from the other side of the room, and you had to have me.”
“Sticking close to reality, I see,” he answers with amusement.
“Except in this version, I dragged you to the bathroom after two hours, and we locked ourselves in a stall.”
“Why do we need this kind of information to explain our encounter to strangers?”
“It’s for authenticity. We didn’t fuck, though. You begged for a taste, and I let you have one. And you were so good at it that it earned you my number.”
“So we didn’t go back to my place that night?”
“I’m not easy like that. But you texted me the morning after, offering to buy me brunch.”
“And that worked, because it involves food.”
“It did. You picked me up and drove us to your favorite place. We ate, talked, and learned more about each other. Then we had the longest walk together, and after that, we went back to your car. You drove me home, walked me up to my front door, and that’s when we first kissed.”
“We hadn’t kissed before?”
“No, you hadn’t kissed my upper set of lips,” I explain with a twinkle in my eye.
“And then what happened?”
“We went out on a few more dates, and we took our time there, too. We texted a lot and even exchanged a few steamy pictures. Three weeks into it, we finally had sex.”
“I’m surprised we lasted three weeks.”
“We did. Then we fucked the entire weekend. It was explosive and amazing.”
“Again, good idea to stay close to reality,” he approves.
I giggle, shaking my head. “It was the easiest relationship ever. I moved in with you after five months of dating, and aside from a few cliché arguments here and there, not a single wave.”
“That’s a pleasant change. How did I propose?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
With his eyes on the road before us, he takes his time coming up with his answer. A small smirk stretches his lips as he envisions how his false persona would have done it. “Okay, for our second anniversary, I took you out to a fancy restaurant, the kind where people propose.”
“That’s anticlimactic.”
“I didn’t propose there. But you expected it, nervous the whole dinner, waiting for me to pop the question.
You were visibly gutted when we left and I still hadn’t asked.
But you said nothing as we strolled around for a moment before ending up walking by the bar we met in.
It looked random, but I’d meticulously planned our casual itinerary.
We headed inside for a beer, had three each, and you dragged me to our stall in the restroom for an encore—not part of my plan.
Anyhow, you got busy opening my pants, and I realized it might jeopardize everything if you found the ring in my pocket.
So, I got down on one knee as I took out the box.
But you didn’t realize what was happening, and you expected oral, so you hiked up your dress for it. ”
I groan. “Do I have to be a sex-obsessed goblin?” I complain.
“I’m merely sticking close to reality, Andrea.”
“Asshole,” I mumble.
“Anyhow, you eventually saw the ring and stared at me for a solid thirty seconds.”
“I wasn’t hesitating, though. I was tongue-tied, wondering how I got to be lucky enough to land you.”
“I know you were. I’m a great catch. Stock trader and everything.” He grimaces at that, showing how little he thinks of the profession I chose for him.
“And then, a year later, we had a beautiful summer wedding, and I became Mrs. Wilson,” I conclude for him. The fake scenario has me giddy with excitement. So much so that I can’t hold back from saying, “God, I can’t wait to become Mrs. Coleman.”
Lex frowns. “That’s never happening.”
My heart skips a beat. Or it drops, I’m not quite sure. He can’t mean that, can he?
“What?” I ask, perturbed.
“You’re not taking my father’s name. You deserve better than that, and his name isn’t worth going through the struggle of changing all your legal mentions.”
“His isn’t, but it’s also yours. You’re worth it. And I want us to share a name. I want our kids to share it, too.”
“Then we can share Walker.”
My worry turns into stupor. “You’d take mine?”
“Alexander Walker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
The way he says it is so casual, it almost sounds rehearsed, as if it ran through his head over and over, like a teenage girl in love. The image is so adorable that a smile stretches my lips.
“You really wouldn’t mind?” I insist.
“It’s just a name, Andrea. Not only do I like the symbolism of us sharing the same one, but I also think it would be wise to change mine. Because of what happened, too many people are familiar with my name. Changing it would bring us some anonymity.”
I nod mindlessly, staring at the trees passing by us. He’s right, of course. And Alexander Walker does sound nice. If it can help us get a more normal life, we should definitely do it.
This false life we’re building as Andrew and Alexandra is very enticing.
Something in me wishes things could have been this easy between us, but I also know the insane bond that ties us together is so strong because of everything we’ve been through.
So, strangely enough, I wish we’d met in such an easy and uncomplicated fashion, but at the same time, I don’t.
What we have is unique, a one-of-a-kind love story. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Still, I hope we’ll eventually get our happily ever after. Preferably soon.
“Baby?”
“Hm?”
“Once all of this is over, if we find out who wants Nammota dead, if we sort everything, and get our life back … Do you think we can really have such a simple and easy life together?”
There is a flicker of doubt in his steely eyes, but I can’t tell if it’s about getting our lives back or getting a peaceful one together.
“I’m convinced we could be disgustingly happy together, yes.
And if we never find out who wants us dead, we can always remain Andrew and Alexandra, and be happy that way. ”
I nod silently, turning my attention back to the nature outside.
I don’t want that. I want to be us. I want our real lives, not a lie.
I want us to build a family, and neither of us would bring a child into this world as long as there’s a threat out there.
Beyond that, I refuse to spend the rest of my life on the run, hiding from everyone and everything.
With Lex’s brain and mine put together, I’m confident we can find out who put that bounty out.
And then we’ll deal with them and break free of their invisible hold.
Those are the thoughts that run through my mind as I doze off, the pill Lex gave me kicking in. That, and the fact that I still can’t believe we’re in fucking Canada …