The Enforcer - Kelli Callahan Page 0,19

seatbelt, “how are we going to figure out who’s after me? How are we going to have a plan of attack?” I ask.

“I’ll figure that out as I go on. One thing at a time. But for right now, let’s just focus on getting somewhere safe and not revealing ourselves to anyone.

“Okay.” I nod, looking out the window. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“North Dakota,” he says.

“North Dakota?” I demand. “Why the hell would I go to North Dakota?”

“Exactly,” Jake says, smiling at me.

“Have you ever been to North Dakota, before?” I wonder.

“I’ve been there a time or two. You know; quiet place, rugged terrain. Most people forget about it. Kind of like Idaho, that way,” he says with a shrug.

“So why not go to Idaho?” I ask.

“Because I have connections in North Dakota.”

“Of course you do,” I say, shaking my head. “I feel like you have connections everywhere.”

“Not everywhere, but I’m working on it,” he says sparing me a small smile.

“I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t know that it would put us at risk. I would never be able to forgive myself if I thought that I was responsible for the deaths of all those people.”

“I know,” he says with a nod. “We’ll keep an eye out for it. It’s possible that they all escaped,” Jake says, his jaw setting in hard lines.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see like everyone else,” I whisper.

“I guess so,” he says.

I nod and I say, trailing off: “I passed out. I froze up, and you carried me out of there. That’s twice you carried me out of a burning building,” I say, feeling pathetic.

“You’re welcome,” he nods. “Now get some sleep,” Jake orders. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

Chapter Seven

Jake

I told her that I had connections in North Dakota and it wasn’t entirely true. I know people, but I don’t know any all the way out here who would help us, which is part of why I chose it too. Why would either of us go to this desolate state? Don’t get me wrong, North Dakota can be nice in its own right. The rugged landscapes always gives me the impression of cattle ranchers riding into the sunset in rural Wyoming. But I never actually went there before, so this is going to be as much of a surprise for her as it is for me. Before we get there, though, I’m going to make a pit stop and pick up an emergency bag that’s on the border; call it old habits.

I’ve learned in every area of life, you need a backup plan, and escape route. So, I systematically placed escape kits and storage lockers on each side of Wyoming’s border which is exactly where we are right now.

Pulling the car off at the exit, I head for the hole-in-the-wall-town of Greensboro, optimistically named after this horrid climate. Parking the car in front of Easy Storage, I take one look at Diana, who is curled up in a ball with her head resting against the car window. Hopefully, she sleeps through my absence. All the same, though, I remove the key from the ignition, confirming she can’t take the car. I tuck my jacket tightly around me and walk through the darkness. It’s probably about five in the morning, but I’m grateful that we got here.

At this time, Easy Storage has a habit of discretion, something I admire about them. However, it’s better to be safe than sorry and have minimal witnesses as possible. Typing in the PIN code, I open the metal gate and walk to locker fifty-six. They’re all outdoor lockers, and are similar to storage units, just smaller, and stacked big enough to hold a duffel bag.

I swing open the locker and smile at the duffel bag in front of me; black, heavy-duty, and made for record terrains. I place it over my shoulder, locking the box behind me. She’s still asleep, but I know she’s going to need different clothes later. Closing the car door and turning the ignition, I looked behind me as I backed out.

There’s probably a Walmart a couple of miles from here. We can pay cash and get her a couple of basic items. I can’t remember the last time I went into a shop anywhere as common as a Walmart.

“What are you doing?” she asks, suddenly scaring me. I jerk the wheel.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,” I say, frowning at her.

“Yes,” she says. “Pretending to sleep