by Giulia Skye
But Evie’s distaste was instantly cut short by what she saw next. Stashed under the seat, partially wrapped in newspaper, were several knives: large, small, flat, wide, and narrow. What would someone need with so many? Her eyes flicked to the dark stains she’d noticed on the seat, now inches away from her nose. She focused, narrowing her eyes. Coffee or blood?
Her breath hitched. She was being silly—really silly—but doubt set in her mind and engulfed her, a million questions arising. Had there really been a kangaroo? How did the tire get punctured and was the jack really missing? Why hadn’t he offered her a lift at the campground? Was it really a coincidence that he’d seen her in the café? Had he wanted everyone to think he’d left Broome alone?
Gripped with the urge to search for more information about him, she yanked the stow box open and rummaged past old food wrappers and papers, hoping to find a driving license or passport, but she came across a soft dark package instead. Tea leaves? she thought optimistically, but her heart pounded, and she knew it was cannabis. Knives, drugs, women. She felt sick, and when she found a large wad of cash and a heavy silver watch she felt a whole lot sicker.
With trembling fingers, Evie flipped the watch over and saw that it was inscribed to someone called Michael. Her hands started to shake even more. Knives, drugs, women. She added theft to the list.
Shit.
She’d gotten into a car with a stranger, blindsided by the bulge of his muscles, and thoughts of adventure. She wasn’t savvy at all. She was stupid, stupid, stupid.
Adam zipped up and strolled back to the highway. He should have listened to Shane. He should have gotten the truck checked over sooner, and now he was stuck here for the night with a woman who asked too many questions.
He hadn’t meant to snap at her, but that habit of hers of repeating everything he said was annoying. Couldn’t she understand him? He spoke English, too, didn’t he? But as she’d stared at him with those wide chocolate eyes, he could see his dithering and head-scratching had made her anxious. Adam thought about trying to ease that anxiety by telling her the history of how and why he acquired the truck, but that would just lead to more questions he couldn’t answer. He’d like to offer a solution and a plan of action so that he at least looked like he was taking some control—but he had no frickin’ idea what to do.
He’d fucked up and there was no easy way to cover up what a fool he’d been, driving around the desert without checking his tools, or his tire pressure, or anything else that would ensure he didn’t break down in the middle of absolute nowhere. Had he thought he could just call up roadside assistance, or have his driver pick him up?
EX-OLYMPIAN STRANDED BY TOTAL INCOMPETENCE
It was time he woke up. With the growing dread that he’d be made a laughingstock—on top of everything else—he saw his plans for the next few weeks, no matter how loosely made, all turn to shit.
Of course, he could risk driving painfully slow on the flat tire, but that would take all night and most likely cause damage to Ted’s truck, which in turn would be a bigger headache to fix. It would involve replacement parts, the use of credit cards, and a few days without wheels. Sure, he’d do it if that were his only option, a matter of life or death, but it wasn’t. They had plenty of water and some food, and for sure, someone would drive by tomorrow.
But how humiliating.
Whoever stopped would have a good old laugh at the stupid Canadian who’d set off across a harsh, remote environment without the most fundamental tool required to change a simple tire. And they’d laugh harder still when they found out the identity of said stupid Canadian. He’d be used as an example in government issued leaflets of what not to do in the outback. The story would make the newspapers—of that he could be damn sure—which would give the hungry press something else to attribute to his so-called mental breakdown.
And of course, he’d be found. Saskia would have a ball slapping the defamation suit on him, he’d have to go back to face all the crap he’d left behind, and he’d miss out on seeing Shane and Krista.
Adam ambled back across the highway under a dark cloud of impending doom. It was bad enough owning up to Evie that he’d been a total idiot—how on earth was he going to face the world?
But he forgot all about the world when he saw that Evie had her hands in the glove box. He caught a glimpse of the bribe money on the dashboard—and was that his watch in her hand? He angled his head. “What are you doing?”
In a flash, she bolted through the truck and out the other side. On top of the open stow box he saw a packet of what looked like marijuana and knowing Ted, probably was.
“I … I was looking for something to eat.”
“You hungry?”
She didn’t look hungry. In fact, she looked shocked. As Evie’s chest heaved, drawing in panicked breaths, Adam went on high alert. Had she found out who he was? He was pretty sure his passport was tucked right at the bottom of his gym bag and his driving license remained in his wallet, which was currently in his pocket pressed against his thigh. So what had given the game away? He took a step toward her. “Did you … find something?”
She nodded slowly and he thought, oh shit.
“Knives, money, cannabis”—her voice was shaking—“pink underwear.”
Ah. Ted’s stuff.
Adam felt somehow relieved. The volume of knives had been disconcerting to him too at first. They’d been scattered in the truck, in every pocket and recess. At least now the ones he hadn’t managed to dump were kept tidy and out of sight under the seat. But the underwear … He’d hoped he’d found all the panties. He’d thrown out seven already. Lucky Ted. He gave Evie a wry smile, hoping she didn’t think they were his.
“Look, the truck belongs to a friend of mine. He’s this guy—”
“What about the watch?” She was edging farther away from him. “Does that belong to your friend too?”
“Yes. His cousin. Another friend.”
“What’s this other friend’s name, then?”
He kept his eyes steady on hers. He could make up any name but only one came to mind. “Shane.”
“Liar,” she whispered. “It says Michael on the back.”
Evie heard the thumping of her own heart, her whole body vibrating with its beat. Her fingers ached from gripping the watch, the metal digging into her palm. She told him the name that was engraved at the back of the watch and had taken him by surprise. The flicker of his eyes, the flare of his nostrils. That’s when she’d seen it, the exact moment that he knew she’d caught him in the lie.
She edged farther behind the truck, desperate to keep a few tons of metal between them. For what seemed like an age, neither of them moved. So he really was a thief—possibly a serial killer—and was she his next victim? Evie tried to swallow back her fear knowing this was no time to fall apart.
And yet …
No one knew where she was. Where would they begin to look for her? If she screamed, no one would hear. If she ran, no one would see.
Fuck.
What the fuck had she done?
CHAPTER 8
Seriously?
Adam had forgotten about the inscription on the watch, but so what? It wasn’t as if he’d stolen it even though she clearly believed he had. Sweat was rolling down her face and she stood like a coiled spring ready to launch. But where would she go?
If they had phone reception, he’d be tempted to google himself so she could see who he really was and explain what he was doing out here—anything to calm her down because the way she was looking at him now was just absurd.
“Look, Evie,” he said, stepping toward her. “It’s not what you think.”
But before he could explain further, she bolted into the wilderness.
Shit.
He took off after her into the scrubland before she could lose herself in it, the PR disaster of reporting her missing
the very last thing he needed.
“Evie! Come back!”
She was quick but he was quicker, and his long legs soon closed the distance between them. He threw his arms around her waist bringing her down into the dirt. She screamed but he muffled it, then pressed his hot face against her ear. “What the hell are you doing?”
She flailed beneath him, pushing her buttocks into his groin as he pinned her down. “I—I can’t breathe.”
Good, he thought, not easing off in case she tried to run again. “Is it the heat or are you always this crazy?”
She gulped for air. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you?” He pulled back. “What the fuck?”
“The knives.” She sobbed. “The drugs—”
“The truck isn’t mine! I borrowed it from a friend’s cousin in Perth. He was some weird guy called Ted who grows fruit and that’s what those knives are for.” He caught his breath, waiting for his words to reach her. “I’ve never hurt anyone in my life!” He felt her go still beneath him. “And you shouldn’t run out like that here. You don’t know what’s out there in the dark. Snakes, spiders. No water. You could get disoriented in minutes. Where the hell did you think you were going?”
“Anywhere. I was too frightened.”
“Of me?”
“Yes, of you. What else was I to think?”
What else? Adam bit back his exasperation. Surely there were a million other things to think. If he were a woman stranded alone with a virtual stranger on a deserted highway and came across knives and cannabis in his truck, he’d think … that … that … He frowned. He considered the cash, the underwear and the watch, and then recalled his poor attempt to cover up his incompetence with a no-big-deal attitude …
“Okay.” He supposed he could see how she’d come to her silly, misguided conclusions. “I’m sorry.”
She twisted herself to face him. Her lips, plump and parted, were only inches away from his chin, and he could see the thick dark line of her long eyelashes framing her big eyes—eyes that he’d at first found unnerving, though he couldn’t think why. They were actually very pretty.
“I don’t know you,” she whispered.
And then he became acutely aware of how they were lying on the ground, his body pressed to hers, their bare legs touching, and she was watching him like he was watching her, both waiting for the other to move.
His eyes skimmed her mouth, the tip of her tongue slid out to moisten her lips. All he had to do was dip his head …
Adam let go of her and sat up, annoyed, confused and disconcertingly aroused—what the hell had just happened there?
He cleared his throat. “You might not know me, but I’ve just saved your frickin’ life.”
She sat up too, and for a moment looked just as stunned as he did until she waved his statement off like it was some sort of exaggeration. Which it probably was. Maybe. “But still, you could be anyone.”
“Well, I’m someone,” he said. “How about having these doubts before you accepted a ride from me?”
“Hey, don’t blame me! That’s such a man-thing to do.”
“Well, I am a man. A man who’s just saved your life.”
She pursed her lips then pulled her knees in for a hug. Her legs, like his, were covered in red dust. “I found the watch and the money, and the drugs. The knives and the knickers and put two and two together.”
“And made fifty-six.”
She nodded, but then her bravado dissipated. She was left looking small and fragile, and very unhappy—the wobble of her downturned mouth telling him tears were close. He puffed out his cheeks, feeling the tug of exhaustion.
Adam wasn’t in the mood for female weeping. Growing up, he’d seen plenty of women cry. Usually his father’s girlfriends walking out of the apartment after being told it was over. Most had simply left but some had stopped by his room to say goodbye, like he ever cared or had the power to change his father’s mind. Gee, Dad, l liked that one—could you keep her?
“Tell me more about your friend Shane,” Evie said. Her hair fuzzed at the edges and her face was wet. She wiped her eyes with a dirty hand which left streaks on her cheek.
“Shane? Well, um … he’s married to Krista and they have a baby called Stefan.”
“Where does he live?”
“Darwin. But he’s currently working away in Sydney.”
“For how long?”
“They’ll be back in six weeks.”
“And the watch?”
“What about it?”
“You said it belongs to Shane, but it’s inscribed to someone called Michael.”
Yeah. Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “It belonged to Shane’s father who passed away recently.” He sat back, surprised the lies were rolling off his tongue with such ease. White lies, he thought. He wouldn’t be seeing her again after Darwin, so what did it matter what he told her now as long as it calmed her down enough to trust him? “I picked it up from his mother in Perth.”
“Along with the truck?”
“No. I’m renting the truck from Nutjob Ted.”
“So why the rush to get to Darwin if your friends aren’t back for another six weeks?”
She was testing him now, he thought. She no longer looked afraid, but she wasn’t ready to give up on the idea that he was a strange one up to no good.
“Well, um …” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “You see …” And then inspiration struck. “My wallet got stolen in … in Monkey Mia.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. So all I have left is the cash you’ve seen in the truck, which out here isn’t going to get me far, not with these fuel prices.” He was careful not to look too pleased with himself. “I figured as you were wanting to share costs, that would tide me over until Shane’s return. I’ll be staying with him until … Christmas and New Year’s.”
Evie was quiet for several seconds, her scrutinizing gaze giving him the impression that she wished she could read minds. Finally, she let out a long breath.
“So, you’re really Adam from Edmonton.”
“Yes.”
What else could he say? If he explained who he was and what he was doing, there was a chance that his real name wouldn’t be familiar to her anyway. He wasn’t some global Hollywood megastar. And besides, wouldn’t Evie rather be stuck with a down-on-his-luck traveler than a feckless, retired sportsman, rumored to be mentally unstable, and on the run from his volatile wife? The truth was too random a thing to tell her. Where would he even begin? It would just sound so false, so far-fetched, and what guarantee did he have that she wouldn’t sell him out for Saskia’s $50,000 as soon as they got to Derby?
It was far better to keep quiet.
And yet, she looked so sad. He felt bad being the cause of it, but when she squeezed her eyes shut and a tear escaped, he recalled the way she’d been frowning at her phone in the café earlier that afternoon. It dawned on him that there could be more to her misery than just misguided panic.
“Evie,” he said gently. “What’s up?”
For a moment he thought she wouldn’t speak. She was looking to the darkening sky as if she’d find some comfort there. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly swiped at it like she hoped he hadn’t seen.
“He’s had a baby!” she blurted out at last.
“A baby? Who?”
“My ex … He’s had a baby with someone else. Someone I knew nothing about.” Her voice wobbled. “I used to know everything about him. We used to tell each other everything,” she cried. “And now he’s a father.”
Oh, Christ.
Adam rubbed his temples. He wasn’t in the mood for this kind of girl crap. In view of her tears, he had to show some compassion but, seriously, boyfriend trouble? Was this all about some guy?
But the tears
were streaming down her face. “We only broke up ten months ago,” she sobbed.
That was nearly a whole year! Why the hell was she still upset?
“Your ex had an affair?” he asked, trying to make sense of her extreme emotions.
Her horrified gasp made him jump. “Do you really think he did?”
Adam didn’t think anything. But her eyes blazed at him wide-open, like he had all the answers when really, he didn’t have a clue.
“Do you think he slept with her before we broke up?”
“Er …” It was obvious that the idea, for some reason, hadn’t entered Evie’s head and he’d rather not put any new ones in there. “Well … um …” But before he could think of anything else to say, she burst into tears again. He scratched his head wondering what would stop the crying. If he were a hugger, he’d pull her in, but the thought of it in this heat didn’t appeal, and after their bizarre embrace thing just now, he’d rather not touch her again. And besides, no matter if—or how—he comforted her, it wouldn’t change the fact that her dickhead ex had slept with someone else and had a baby.
All Adam could do was sit awkwardly next to her as she cried it out. He looked to the sky flecked with pale stars, heard birds squawk and chatter somewhere in the distance. Insects chirped and the tall grasses around them rustled in the breeze with a soft hush hush hush. A nice sound to fall asleep to, he thought, if only it wasn’t accompanied by a woman sobbing.
Eventually, she hiccupped, swallowed the gunk that came with heavy tears, and then sniffed and lifted the bottom of her vest to wipe her eyes and … blew her nose on it.
Adam winced, patting his pockets in the hope of coming up with a tissue or some sort of cloth to give her, but he only had his own shirt, which he supposed he might have offered—maybe—if she hadn’t just used her own.
“All better now?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She pulled her snot-stained vest off over her head revealing a gray strappy crop top underneath. “God, I’m a mess.” She finished wiping her face with her top and smoothed back the fuzz of her hair. “You must think I’m a complete head case.”