by S. Poirier
“Catch,” I reply. A small smirk forms on his lips as I look down to see he is holding a box of hair color. My eyes widen and I throw my hands up. “Oh no! That crap better be for you.” I love my red hair, and promised myself at a very young age that I would never color it.
Catch takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out. “Max, your picture is out there. The damage is done, and your hair is the most noticeable feature you have. I picked out an auburn/brownish color.” He holds the box out to me. “Please, don’t make this difficult. It’s just hair, and when this is all over I will personally pay for you to have it corrected.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Are you trying to make me to hate you?”
“No, Max, believe it or not, I’m not trying to make you hate me. Maybe at first I was, but not now,” he answers sincerely.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I grab two fistfuls of my hair at the scalp and give it a harsh tug. “You are so frustrating.” Stomping over to him I rip the box out of his hand. “Who are they, Catch? And what do you have to do with them?”
His eyes narrow and the muscle in his jaw feathers. “Go color your hair. I want to leave within the hour.” I open my mouth to argue, but he turns and hightails it out of the room.
Catch doesn’t return until I’m done coloring and blow drying my hair. I’m sitting on the vanity next to the coffee pot waiting for him to come through the door. When he walks in he stops and stares, one hand on the knob, the other on the door frame.
“It’s hideous isn’t it?” I ask as I twirl a piece of my dark auburn hair between my fingers.
He gives me a smile. “No, it’s just different.” He shoulders our bags and jerks his head towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Awesome. When someone uses the word ‘different’ in that context it never means anything good. My red hair is part of what gave me my unwavering confidence. Now it’s gone taking a piece of that confidence with it.
Sounds shallow, I know, but it’s the truth.
I hop off the counter and start towards the door. As I take a step out into the open Catch hands me a pair of solid black, cateye sunglasses. “I didn’t know…they grabbed my attention…”
“They’re fine,” I say nonchalantly as I slip them on. Truth be told they were cheap but I loved them. They were a lot like the sunglasses in my old beat up car that is probably a heap of twisted metal by now.
“Also, I’m going to need you put this on.” He hands me a baseball cap.
“The Yankee’s? Seriously?” I say with a sneer.
“Not a fan?” He asks in a teasing tone.
“You are?”
“Why else would I have a worn Yankee’s cap, Max?” I open my mouth to give him my opinion on the franchise but he cuts me off. “We’ll argue about this later. Now put this on and tuck your hair under it.” I do as he says and twist my hair up to fit under the cap. A few strands fall free and he surprises me by helping me tuck them back in place.
As we approach the parking lot Catch pulls a baseball cap out of the waistband of his jeans and places it low on his head. Next he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tucks me close against him.
I try to push against his side but he holds firm. “There’s a car in the back corner of the parking lot. We’re being watched. That’s what I was checking on when you were coloring you hair.” With those words I instinctively curl closer to his side.
“How the hell?” I mumble.
“Timer isn’t an idiot, and now he probably knows I’m on my way to see Snitch. I made you wear the hat so they won’t know you colored your hair.” He guides me to the jeep and opens the driver side door. I get in and continue to climb over the center console to the passenger seat.
Catch jumps in, rips the hat off, and starts the vehicle. “Buckle up, Max. Now.” I look out the back glass to see the car inching towards us as the jeeps tires spin against the pavement, and then surges forward. Catch takes a sharp turn out of the parking lot and I’m thrown into him. One arm is pinned between the two of us and my other hand lands on his thigh, embarrassingly close to his junk. He turns his head slightly and brushes his lips over my cheek. “Seatbelt, beautiful.” The feel of his soft lips moving over my skin as he says those two words sends a shiver of excitement down my spine.
Jesus! Get a hold of yourself. You’re in the middle of running for your life.
I push off of him and settle back into my seat securing the seatbelt across my chest. Catch takes a tight right and then another left. He glances in the rearview mirror and releases a string of curses. I turn to see the car hot on our asses.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. My forehead is starting to sweat under the cap.
“Backseat. Get the vest and put it on. Under the seat get the Glock and take the safety off.” I turn in the seat, keeping my head down, and drag the vest into my lap. “If that bastard starts firing on us you return the favor.” After pulling the vest over my head I reach under the seat and find the gun. I release the magazine, look to see it’s loaded and push it back into place before removing the safety. Catch studies me out the corner of his eye with an amused smirk plastered on his face.
“What? I know it’s loaded, it’s just a habit,” I say with a shrug. The jeep takes another sharp left.
“It’s a good habit,” He replies. “Now hold on.”
I brace myself as he takes another right and points the front end of the jeep towards the interstate. He makes his way for the merging ramp but bypasses it, jumps the median, and gets onto the interstate heading in the direction we just came from.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say as I turn around to see if we lost the car.
“They couldn’t get through that median in that car, so we get a head start,” he replies as he reaches speeds of almost one hundred miles per hour.
“But we’re going the wrong way,” I say pointedly. “Has the plans changed? Are we not going to New Orleans to see Snitch?”
“Shut up, Blaze. I have a plan. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
I put the gun’s safety back on and lay the weapon in my lap. A few times I glance over my shoulder but don’t see the car. After only a few minutes I hear Catch mumble, “Perfect”.
“What?” I ask sounding a little panicked. My hand instinctively tightens around the gun.
“Hold on,” he says and then jerks the wheel to the left. Next we are bounding through the grassy median that separates the different sides of the interstate. I grunt as we bump over the uneven ground. Acting purely in the moment I reach out and grab Catches’ thigh digging my nails into his jeans.
He spins the jeep to point in the other direction and then bounces back onto the road right behind an eighteen wheeler riding in the passing lane. Gunning the engine he cuts off the car in the slow lane and eases the jeep right next to the massive truck. We are hidden, and would probably successfully pass whoever it was that is tailing us without being caught.
We travel next to the truck for a couple of miles. I’m certain the trucker is ready to run us off the road by this point, but thankfully he only flips us the finger as we pass him and then cut over into the left lane.
“Did we lose them?” I ask while watching out the back window.
“Even if we didn’t there was no way they could get over that wet median. They’ll have to wait till the next exit.” I bring my hand up and snatch a piece of hair out from under the cap and start twisting it. Catch grabs my wrist and pulls it away from my head. “Stop. We’re fine. Okay?” I take a deep breath and nod. “Good girl.” He reaches over and runs his thumb over my top lip and every nerve in my body responds to the touch. I inhale sharply and fight the urge to suck his thumb into my mouth. “Take that vest and hat off, and drink some water. You’re starting to sweat.”
As I start to pull the vest up over my head I see Catch stick the thumb he used to wipe the sweat from lip into his mouth. My heart rate instantly doubles
and I swallow thickly. You would think that would be gross, but honestly, it’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen a man do.
9
Max
I toss the vest in the back and put the gun back under the seat. Catch hands me his water and I greedily drain the whole bottle. Between that car chase, the heavy bullet proof vest, and the incredibly hot man that just tasted my sweat, all the moisture in my mouth and throat has drained south.
I can’t believe that whole situation has me horny.
Without taking his eyes off the road Catch says, “We have a long drive ahead, and I’m going to get off the interstate to take back roads. I want to know what you know about Fiddle.”
“Catch…” I start, but he cuts me off.
“No, you need to tell me. No more games, Max. What is it that you’re hiding?”
I take a deep breath, and closing my eyes, I allow my head to fall back against the headrest. “I don’t know.”
“You do,” he growls.
My eyes spring open and I turn to face him. I whip the flash drive out of my pocket and hold it up for him to see. “It’s on here. Whatever I possess that has James Kelly’s panties in a bunch is on this flash drive. I don’t know because I haven’t had the chance to look at it yet.”
“Boba Fett?” he arches his brow.
“Yeah, Boba Fett, you ass, and seriously, I have no idea what’s on here.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you have no clue why they are chasing you—us—?” He looks pissed. “Dammit, Max. We need to see what’s on Boba Fett. I need to know what we’re up against.”
“Well, what do we need to do?” I ask. I know how to use a computer but I don’t know where a safe place to use one would be. Catch takes the exit that leads us back into Roanoke. “Whoa, have you lost your mind? I mean were you mentally absent fifteen minutes ago?” I start twirling my hair and glancing out the back window.
Catch ignores my doubt about coming back to where they already tracked us. “We’re going to Best Buy and I’m going to buy the cheapest laptop they have. And then we are going to the library. We’ll print whatever we need there, and then donate the laptop to the nearest domestic violence shelter.”
“Do you think we’ll have enough time to do all of that?”
He shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“This is crazy,” I mumble.
We park in the Best Buy parking lot. Catch goes in alone with his baseball cap pulled down. Ten minutes later he’s climbing back into the jeep and tossing a small already opened laptop into my lap.
“I talked them into letting me buy the display. Now we don’t have to wait for the initial setup to be able to use the damn thing.”
“Good thinking,” I say as I power it up.
By the time we get to the library I have the information transferred to the laptop and ready to print. Catch talks to the lady at the desk and gives her one of his many fake ID’s before coming to find me in a back corner.
“Don’t you have to have a library card to be able to use the printer?” I ask when he approaches.
“Not when you have this face, smile, and charm,” he replies with a grin.
“Oh, wow, that’s incredibly arrogant of you. Get the hell away from me and go stand by the printer,” I tease. “There are a lot of pages and the last thing I want is for anyone else to see what’s on them.”
“Have you looked at any of it yet?” I set my lips into a grim line and nod. He doesn’t ask for any details just walks over to the printer to wait. As he passes the desk he flashes the cute little glasses clad Librarian an adorable smile. In return she takes her glasses off, puts one of the arms in her mouth and winks at him. Then as he walks away she tilts her head slightly and takes a good look at his jean clad rear.
Every muscle in my body tenses and I feel the sting of jealousy. I want to punch her in the eye she used to wink with, and stomp on those damn glasses.
Five minutes later hot stuff Librarian was paid and we are out the door. Catch stops at a gas station on the corner next to the library to fill up and I go in to find out where the local domestic violence shelter is located. Fifteen minutes after leaving the gas station we were done in Roanoke Virginia and on our way to New Orleans, without the drama of being chased.
“Are we going straight into New Orleans?” I ask as I stare down at one of the pages studying the information.
“No, we’re going to make another stop. At some point I’m going to get off the interstate and take the back roads. So, we have a long drive ahead of us.” He nods towards the pages I’m holding. “Plan on sharing?”
I sigh. The little that I have learned in the last thirty minutes is slightly confusing, but I haven’t been able to read everything yet. I have a feeling all these pages are one huge puzzle that I’ll have to take time to put together.
“Right now I can see that Fiddle has been receiving money from overseas. I’m not sure where from exactly, but it’s very large sums, and it’s sporadic.” I flip through a few more pages scanning them quickly, but not picking anything up that will answer any of my questions.
“Do you think it’s money laundering?”
“Probably, but there has to be more to it. They wouldn’t want me killed because of money laundering evidence. There’s something more,” I reply while squeezing the bridge of my nose. “It has to be something that would totally destroy James Kelly and Fiddle.”
Catch senses my sudden stress. He reaches over and pushes the hair off my neck before rubbing it. His strong calloused hands feel amazing against my skin and sore muscles. And I would totally slap his hand away if I didn’t enjoy his skin against mine so much.
“Will you be able to figure it out?” he asks.
“Those asshats want me dead. I’ll figure it out,” I say with strong determination.
Catch keeps working his magic on the back of my neck as I drop my head forward giving him better access. Soon the papers slip from my fingers and land in my lap. My eyelids grow heavy and I know that I’m in no position to fight what my body wants. Sleep.
****
The jeep coming to a stop is what rouses me from the deep sleep I was enjoying. The seat is leaned back and I’m staring at the hard top ceiling. I roll on my side and tuck my hands under my cheek.
“How long have I been sleeping?” I yawn.
“About three and half hours,” He replies. “Do you want something to eat?” I sit up a little to see that we’re at a fast food restaurant. I nod and tell him what I want before laying back down in the seat. He places the order, pays and then gets back onto some back road. I close my eyes and start drifting off again. I don’t normally sleep this much. I guess all the stress and sexual tension between the two of us was getting to me.
Catch says my name and kills my doze. “Hmmm,” I reply.
“Max, I need you to look at me,” he says softly. I open my eyes and look over at him. He glances down at me through his thick lashes and smiles. Damn he is hot when he smiles like that. “We have to make a stop. I need to ditch the jeep and there is only one place that I know of to get a car that doesn’t require us stealing or leaving some kind of paper trail. We’ll be there in about two hours, okay?”
I nod. “Are we going to be staying there for the night?”
Catch sighs heavily, clearly stressed. “Yeah, probably.”
I reach down and pull the lever on the seat sending it bolting into the upright position. “Where are we going?”
Without taking his eyes off the road he says, “Lookout Mountain, Georgia.”
I furrow my brow. “I’ve never heard of Lookout Mountain. What’s there?”
Catch swallows loudly. “It’s where I grew up. My mom lives there.”
I don’t say anything to that. He’s obviously not happy about bringing me to his childhood home, but neither am I. I don’t want to meet his mom. I know nothing about Catch and he knows very little about me. I guess you could say that we are friends. But did being forced
into a friendship even count? I can’t answer that question, and I can’t tell Catch that I thought meeting his mom was a bad idea. So, instead I shove a handful of fries in my mouth to avoid any more conversation.
We drive almost the whole two hours to Lookout Mountain in silence. When we pass the welcome sign Catch takes a deep breath. He slows the jeep and pulls over to the side of the road.
I look around at all the trees that surround us and then back over at Catch. He’s regarding me with a tight look on his face.
“I’m going to need you to do me a favor.” He says and licks his lips before continuing. “My mom doesn’t know what my job entails. Actually, she thinks I’m an electrician that works contract work. It was the only thing I could come up with that could explain why I travel so much.”
“So, what does your job entail, Catch?” I asks cutting into his favor asking.
His jaw tightens. “Not now, Max.” Out of pure frustration I reach over and punch him in his right bicep. The muscle flexes and I can see he is schooling his expression.
Yeah you felt that big boy.
“Trust me you don’t want to know. What I need you to do for me is pretend to be my girlfriend.” My eyes widen and I toss my hands up. “We’ll only be there for the night and we can sleep in separate rooms.”
He pulls the jeep back onto the road. I growl in frustration. “Fine. I guess it’s the least I can do.”
Lookout Mountain is small with few stores, winding roads, and lots of green trees. After a quick ten minute drive through town we turn onto a long, gravel driveway. Passing through a grouping of trees we emerge into an opening that is occupied by a medium sized country style house with a large wraparound porch complete with a screen door, swing, and rocking chairs. In the back of the house is a red barn and empty pasture.
“Wow, this is where you grew up?” I pictured him more as a hard core teen that grew up in some rough part of a major city. Not Little House on the Prairie.