by Treva Harte
His fellow inmate and tormentor had been wrong about one thing though. Wynn had figured out how to make his escape. Anyone could escape if they were desperate enough. After all, if you failed and died—well, at a certain point death could be considered just another way to get out.
* * * * *
Wynn brought himself back from that bad time. He stared blankly at the motel where he had just pulled up. Maybe he'd been driving too long. For just a moment he wasn't sure where he was, he'd been so lost in where he had been before.
But that time was over. Things were grim but he didn't feel quite that desperate yet. He didn't need to. He wasn't physically confined anywhere and so far he'd avoided the people he wanted to avoid.
Of course in some ways things were worse. Before he'd only needed to get himself out. There had been a time when he hadn't cared how. There was some freedom in that desperation. But that rather bleak freedom was gone now.
This time he was bound, somehow or another, to another person. Cassie had a hold on him. Wynn couldn't even explain how.
There was the possibility of sex, of course. Wynn shifted. Just remembering the start of their lovemaking could excite him. That ought to be enough to keep him interested in her safety. He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted anyone this much.
But there was more. Wynn knew he couldn't leave her alone right now and not just sexually. He needed to make sure she was safe.
He couldn't let her be harmed or made afraid. Not the way he had been. She was too important to him. Maybe more important than he'd ever been to himself.
Chapter Nine
*Must call Ned.*
Wynn woke up with a start, completely disoriented. He rarely slept so heavily, but after driving until one in the morning he had stumbled into the nearest motel and fallen face down on one of the beds.
He pushed himself up and sat, swaying a little, on the edge of the bed. Bloody hell, he felt almost hung-over.
Somewhere in the night he had a vague memory of Cassie curling up next to him in the bed. He'd liked that. He wished the memory was clearer.
Wynn could almost remember the dreams that disturbed him all night, too. A woman's body had been next to him and he'd been aroused, even while he slept like he'd been drugged. How could he help but imagine that body doing more than lying near him? He could almost taste how sweet her breast was in his mouth, how warm and clinging that pussy of hers was as he sleepily thrust into her.
Call Ned.
Ned?
Why the hell would he want to call that worthless druggie—? Oh, shit. That hadn't been the echoes of his own mind talking. That had been Cassie. And she wasn't next to him in bed now.
Wynn jumped to his feet fast.
"Damn it, woman!" He was vaguely grateful he hadn't stripped off his clothes as he ran barefoot out the door. "No!"
He reached her as she hung up the pay phone outside the lobby of the motel. He gripped the arm that was replacing the receiver but, of course, it was too late then.
"Cassie, we didn't drive all over creation last night so you could trot over to the telephone and tell everyone where the hell we are!" Wynn glared.
He had trusted her, by God. He thought she had understood what was going on.
She had run straight to the telephone without getting properly dressed. Her hair was still unbrushed and sticking up straight and she was wearing the same clothes she had last night, but she stared at him as if he was the thoughtless one.
"But I had to have someone feed Pandora. And then I thought that Ned could go and get my BMW out of the parking garage and drive it home. I decided this was a real emergency. Because if he does, when all this is over I won't have to get it out of the impound lot somewhere in D.C.—"
"No. That's not an emergency. I'll tell you what the emergency is right now. All this may be over with one of us being dead. Bloody hell, Cassie! We can't be found. That means no one can know where we are. No one."
"But, like I've told you before, Ned is harmless."
"Ned can be used, just like anyone can be used."
"I didn't tell him where we were." Cassie's voice sounded very uncertain.
She hadn't done it deliberately. She just wasn't used to this. Wynn forced himself to calm down. Then he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. The stubble scratched his hand.
He hated looking unshaven. He hated the dazed confusion still in his mind.
Bloody hell, he was tired. More tired than he remembered being in years.
"Get in the car. We haven't unpacked, so this should be easy. We need to drive some more."
"Wynn—"
Cassie felt awful. Wynn looked more exhausted and bewildered than she had ever seen him appear before. She saw him, as if by rote, pull his keys out of his jeans pocket. He was obviously sure that they had to do this. Damn, they had both gotten maybe four hours of sleep at best in the motel.
Of course she had napped in the car so she was feeling better than he did.
"We have to move."
"Wynn, let me drive. You'll get us killed."
Cassie bit her tongue. How many times had she said that to Ned, for different reasons? How many times had she then had to argue with his outraged pride?
"I can do it—" Wynn led them to the car and stared at the door a little blankly. "Hell. Maybe not. All right. Get us out of here."
"Where?"
"Surprise us. Just away from D.C." His voice already sounded a little slurred. "But when I wake up, I need to get to a decent-sized public library."
Cassie wanted to ask why, but he shut his eyes as he slumped into the car. As Wynn fell asleep in the passenger's seat, Cassie carefully started the engine. Guilt made her bite her lower lip as she began to figure out the unfamiliar controls on the rental car.
Whatever had possessed her to call Ned? It had seemed like such a brilliant idea when she woke up. Why hadn't she at least checked with Wynn first? Of course he had been sleeping like a dead man—no, she didn't like that image—he had been sleeping so soundly that she hated to disturb him...but still.
Cassie swallowed. What if it wasn't that she had been stupid and careless in calling Ned? What if Emmanuel had made her call?
"Now I'm getting almost as paranoid as Wynn," she said out loud.
Of course Wynn appeared to have good reason for his wariness. No. She hadn't been under any mind control. She had just been impulsive. How many years would it take her to realize that her impulsiveness could get her into a lot of trouble?
Cassie glanced over at Wynn. He really was sleeping. Another thought made her feel better. Despite everything, he trusted her enough to drive them out of here.
She wasn't going to abuse that trust. Cassie knew that Wynn didn't give it lightly. She wasn't sure he had ever given that trust to anyone before.
And Cassie began to remember what they had been doing back in the Bide A Wee. She wished they had managed to finish what they'd started.
Oh well. Imagining how things could and should have ended ought to keep her awake for another hundred miles or so. That would be good, since she knew she wasn't going to turn the radio on to help keep herself awake. She couldn't do that while Wynn was asleep.
Cassie shook her head. She'd never felt this weird mix of emotions before. How was it possible to feel like you wanted to crawl into bed with someone to do everything but sleep and tuck him in for a long rest all at the same time?
* * * * *
"She didn't suspect anything did she?" Carter kept his voice threatening.
"Hey man, you ever heard of asking someone a question nicely?" The man acted as if he didn't know what was going on, but Carter saw the sweat beginning on his face.
This one threatened real easy. Carter knew he was going to really enjoy himself for the next few minutes.
"I don't have to ask nicely. Did she?"
"No. Nothing. She didn't suspect a thing." Ned's face shone with sweat now. "Honest to God, man!"
"Did you get a trace on the c
all?" Carter turned to Ullmann and thought about having to explain not knowing where the call came from when he spoke to Rauss. That made him feel a little sweaty himself.
"Pay phone in...Uniontown, Pennsylvania."
"Where the hell is that? Never mind, we'll find it," Carter said, hastily.
"Damn right."
"Now. What should we do with this little man?" Carter turned his attention to the twitching, fearful body in front of him.
"Rauss doesn't want people to know what's up." Ullmann looked dispassionate.
"Killing is easiest unless it makes the news."
"Why don't we have someone stay here with him? Maybe he'll get another phone call."
"Hmmm."
"At least for a while. He can go get that damned car, too, just like the woman asked. Of course we'll go along. Maybe there's something useful in the thing. And we can deal with him later."
Ned squeaked wordlessly. Carter almost laughed. This one was plenty cowed already. He wouldn't be much of a chore to keep an eye on.
"Ned? Is that you after all this time?"
The voice at the door was loud and overly cheerful. All three men jumped.
Ned blinked at the person speaking.
Everyone could see him pulling something out of his brain and puzzling over it. Finally he said, "Emily?"
Emily nodded encouragingly.
"Emily Logan."
"Don't push your luck, Ned. It used to be Lewis. I got married and changed my name to something without even an L in it. That doesn't matter anyhow since it will be Lewis again soon enough." Emily pushed her way into the kitchen, barely glancing at the other two. "Since Cass isn't here, why don't we go somewhere else and talk over old times?"
Ned blinked again.
"Huh?"
"We have so much to talk about, Ned. You know it's been years. And Cassie was always with us. We've never had the chance to be alone together, you know?" Emily tucked her arm under Ned's elbow as she urged him out.
"Hey!" Carter said.
He looked at his partner, confused.
"We know where you live, Ned. We'll come calling," Ullman made his tone genial. "Or maybe you better come back and visit us here some more. When you're done with the lady."
Ned flinched again.
Emily almost shoved him out the door. Ned followed after her, clearly under the influence of a higher intelligence.
"Hey, thanks. Those guys were—"
"I know they're bad news. I'm not the idiot here, Ned. Let's go before they decide we both need to stay," Emily said through her teeth.
"Sure."
"Ned, where the hell is Cassie and what the hell is going on?"
Emily glanced at the man ambling along beside her. She had a feeling she knew what his answer would be. Ned hadn't changed much.
"So like you were interested in me back in the old days? Coulda fooled me."
Emily dropped her hold on Ned's elbow.
"No, Ned. No, I was never interested. Not then and not now. I never will be interested. I said that to get you away from those guys who looked like they wanted to kill you. Understand?"
"I always thought you were sorta cute, too. Not that I'd run around on Cassie or anything."
Emily sighed.
* * * * *
Cassie was just at the spot where she unzipped Wynn's jeans very slowly after she stopped the car on the side of the road when she realized that Wynn's eyes were open.
She hastily moved hers back to looking at the road. So much for fantasies.
*Go on. Don't stop now.*
"That's the problem with having someone read your mind. He can find out everything you think." Cassie hoped she wasn't blushing. "Of course a gentleman doesn't have to comment on everything."
"Why not? I liked those thoughts. If you want, I'll help you with some."
Cassie began to think of warm hands stroking cool breasts, a warm mouth on—
"Hey, I'm driving here!" Cassie yelped.
"You started it. Hey, Cassie, where are we going?"
"I know a really, really good public library," Cassie told him, trying to keep thoughts of a mouth on her thighs far away. Damn him. "In New York City."
"The City?"
"It's easy to spot strangers in small towns like where we are now. It's harder when you're with millions of strangers."
"And New Yorkers get stranger every minute," Wynn muttered.
"That's not a nice attitude for someone with telepathy," Cassie pointed out. "People probably would find that strange even in New York."
"All right. Fine. New York City it is." But he didn't look happy. "Why do you want to be in the City anyhow?"
"Well, I know it pretty well. Mom went to live there when she got married so I hung out there some. Hey, maybe we could stay with my stepdad!"
"Cassie."
"All right, bad idea. They know everything about both of us, including where Tim lives. Besides, Tim isn't the most reliable guy in the world."
"What does he do?"
"Do? Hmmm. Do. Well, he's an artist. He doesn't sell a lot of stuff and that means he sort of drifts from job to job...He doesn't do much of anything, I guess. Doing isn't what Tim is about. Being. That's what he likes."
No, Tim Borges was not exactly the solid father figure every girl longed for. Or much of any solid figure at all.
*Sounds like Ned.*
"Naw. Ned is—" Cassie stopped.
He's exactly like Ned. What did that mean? Cassie'd met Ned just about the time Mom died. She was sure she could go back to the shrink with that and get hours of conversation out of her new insight.
In a way that was a relief, Cassie admitted to herself. She'd thought she stayed with Ned because of low self-esteem. But now it was Mom's fault.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cassie finished in as dignified manner as she could.
"Cassie, you seem to forget who you're talking to," Wynn reminded her.
"Oh. Well, shut up. And stay out of my thoughts."
Suddenly Cassie got an image of snowflakes drifting down from the sky. Millions of snow. .. Flakes.
*Not funny, Wynn.*
Wynn began to laugh.
"It's nice to know you only hung out with Ned because your mom would have wanted you to," he said. "That's so—dutiful—of you."
That was a nicer word than any that Emily had ever come up with for Cassie and Ned's togetherness. It was better than anything Tash or her Dad has said, either. But it irritated Cassie even more than Em's ruder terms or the parental lectures on poor choices.
Since he was definitely awake now, Cassie turned on the radio, pushed the volume up and then put her foot on the accelerator.
"I'm not talking to you. I'm driving." She paused for a while and then said, a little belligerently, "What's wrong with New York City?"
"Never liked the place. Besides that means we have several hours to drive."
"And driving now bothers you?"
"Waiting several hours to get you in bed bothers me. It's starting to bother me a lot."
Hands unbuttoning her shirt. Long dark hair trailing over her body as he moved his head down from her breasts to her belly button and then to her thighs. Going further down yet with that flickering, relentless tongue of his. His teeth bit, then his mouth sucked. Then she felt his tongue reaching her pubic curls. Cassie was sweating. Wynn's hair was damp. They'd been at this for hours and hours. They'd be at this for hours more.
This time Cassie knew she did blush. There was no doubt about it. That was a wonderful fantasy but not hers. She just wouldn't—Even if she hadn't felt the heat going up her face, she would have known by the satisfied smirk on Wynn's face. They were sharing his ideas this time.
Fine. Let him smirk. They were still in for a long trip. She could create plenty more sex scenarios in her head.
Cassie wondered when she had learned to switch from sharing just words in her mind to mental images. That seemed like she was getting better at linking.
Obviously Wynn was well able to see her mental images too. Only too well. Oh God. That was embarrassing. Exciting but still embarrassing.
* * * * *
Wynn watched, almost asleep, as Cassie switched the radio channel, avoiding looking over at him.
That was all right. He hadn't been entirely kidding her when he said he didn't want to wait. If she started to look at him again like she wanted to stop the car and crawl in the back with him—or if she started with those fantasies again...It was better if she didn't look at him. But his mind started to drift back to them anyhow. Somehow Cassie and self-control didn't go together well.
"...the results of the primaries in the Super Tuesday contest are coming in. Senator Arthur Hornsby appears to hold a commanding lead and, if so, will have a virtual lock on his party's nomination..."
Cassie switched off the radio.
Wynn let out the air he had sucked in at Art's name.
He had almost forgotten his responsibility to Art.
He'd been busy, of course. Being chased all over the East Coast could make a man forget his responsibilities sometimes. But maybe that was why he was being chased—to be kept out of the way right now. What the hell did Lida and Emmanuel have planned next?
Wynn wondered how he could reassure Cassie. While he thought about what to say, Cassie broke the silence.
"I'd really hoped this was going to be over with. Well, so much for all this just going away by itself. I bet your buddies Emmanuel and Lida are really excited now," Cassie observed, her voice very even.
Chapter Ten
"Stop here."
"But we're in Harrisburg!"
"You have a problem with Harrisburg?"
"I'm sure it's a lovely city, Wynn, but the goal was New York City by nightfall, remember?"
"Later. Tomorrow. I just spotted a likely looking library. It's past time to send that message to Art."
"But—"Cassie gave up. Wynn usually had reasons for what he did. Or if they weren't reasons, they were gut instincts that he had learned to obey. He wouldn't change his mind. Besides, why should she argue? So far he was right.