Page 51 of Seaside Strangers
Then it hit him.
His eyes snapped open, his body going still as the realization slammed into place.
No.
No, no, no.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, lifting her head, her voice soft but edged with concern.
“Um…” He cleared his throat before forcing the words out. “We… didn’t use a condom.”
“Oh, no!” she gasped, scrambling away to the other side of the bed, eyes wide. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking.”
He let out a wry chuckle. “That makes two of us. And don’t apologize for my stupidity. I’m the one who’s supposed to wear the damn thing, so it’s my responsibility.” Pulling her into his arms, he coaxed her into lying beside him, then touched his lips to the top of her head. “I’m clean, sweetheart. I had my routine blood work for the military a few weeks ago, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve been with anyone else.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve always used protection, and it’s been a very long time for me too. But what happens if... if...”
He knew exactly where her thoughts had gone. His fingers lifted her chin until she met his gaze. “If I got you pregnant, we’ll deal with it. I promise. I would never run from my responsibilities.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to think I did this on purpose.”
“I don’t.” A faint, tired smile touched his mouth. “If anyone wasn’t thinking clearly, it was me.”
He turned onto his side again and drew her in, tucking her against him, one arm wrapped around her in a steady hold.
“Think you can get some sleep now without another nightmare?” he asked.
She nodded, her hair brushing his jaw. “I think so.”
“Good.”
He stayed there, listening as her breathing evened out again, his mind still turning over everything they’d just added to an already complicated situation. For now, though, there was nothing more he could do about it.
With her warm against him, he finally let himself drift.
Chapter Twenty
Leo Simmons shiftedin the back of the stolen black Ford Explorer, his knee bouncing as the miles dragged on. He preferred the Escalade, but this would have to do. They’d grabbed the vehicle from one of Hernandez’s chop shops before leaving Chicago. New plates, altered VIN—enough to pass a glance, maybe even a routine stop, as long as no one looked too closely. To anyone else, they were just three guys on a road trip, heading south for a few days off, maybe a little fishing along the Outer Banks.
He almost snorted at the thought. A vacation. Right.
He stared out the window at the dark stretch of highway, jaw working. If they came back withanything, it wouldn’t be fish. It would be the girl—and the bag she’d taken. That was all that mattered. Get the money. Get the gun. Get back in Hernandez’s good graces.
None of this would’ve happened if Susan’s sister hadn’t run off with what didn’t belong to her. He could still hear Susan, frantic and shaking, explaining about the bag and begging him to spare her, the kid, and her mother. As if he would after all the trouble she’d caused him.
After that, everything had unraveled fast. Too fast. He’d handled it, but not cleanly. In the rush, he’d forgotten to get the one detail that mattered—where the sister worked—and now he was paying for it.
Kellerman had made sure of that.
Leo shifted again, his nose still tender if he pressed the wrong way. His ribs were even worse. One mistake—one detail missed—and Kellerman had made his opinion clear. The memory left a bitter edge he couldn’t shake. He didn’t like being on the receiving end of that kind of lesson, and he had no intention of staying there. He wanted to move up in the organization, but mistakes like that would only hold him back.
Tossing an empty bottle of Mountain Dew intothe rear of the SUV, he kicked the back of the front passenger seat. “How much longer?”
Goon Two, as Leo thought of him, threw a folded-up newspaper in his direction. “About eight more hours. Read the paper—that is, if you know how to read.”
The two jerks in front shared a quiet laugh. Leo stared at the back of their heads, irritation simmering, but he didn’t push it. They were bigger, heavier, and worked directly for Hernandez. Picking a fight in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t do him any favors.
It was after three o’clock in the morning when they finally arrived in Elizabeth City and found a local no-tell motel. They got their requested rooms at the office—two adjoining, ground-floor units around the back of the bi-level establishment. Goons One and Two took the end room, leaving Leo the other, which was fine with him.
