and she wouldn’t be there for it. Failing to appear in court was a criminal offense. It was a risk she had known she was taking when she climbed into Cait’s Jeep, and now she had to make that count.
She had come so far already. If she didn’t make it to Albuquerque, she would be sacrificing all of it.
She didn’t owe the girl anything. Cait had made the choices that led her to this point, just like Rebecca had made her own. It was Cait who knew the man in the truck, it was Cait he was after. It was her fault, not Rebecca’s.
Even as she thought this, she knew it was wrong. Cait was no more at fault than Rebecca was. Wasn’t living under the constant threat of danger just a part of being a woman in this world? Keys clutched between fingers, earphones out when walking home at night, always waiting for a hand to reach out and grab you, always waiting for the moment that would end it all. Always wondering who it would be: a man you already knew or a man you didn’t. Hadn’t she been certain up until the moment the man wrenched open the door of the Jeep that he had come to kill her, not Cait? Hadn’t she been convinced that it was all her own fault and that somehow she deserved it?
Who could possibly deserve this kind of life?
No more apologies. No more blame. From now on, only action.
There wasn’t much time.
The seats of the Jeep were covered in glass and stained dark with blood; she carefully brushed the glass off the upholstery and pressed a scarf she’d kept in her bag across the seat before sliding in. Shards still crunched under her weight.
She turned the key in the ignition. That same cough-stutter.
“Shit.”
What had Cait been trying to tell her? Rebecca’s eyes went to the gauge. It was showing nearly a full tank, so that wasn’t the issue. There was a good chance that the Jeep was just broken. It had flipped over twice: it would be a miracle if it was still drivable. Most likely, it had given up the ghost.
She turned the key again. Nothing. Just a sad cough and then silence.
She was about to give up hope when she remembered something. The gas. Hadn’t Cait said something about the gas pedal?
Rebecca pressed down gently on the gas pedal and tried again. The engine still stuttered but sounded a little more robust. She floored the gas and turned the key, and after a few tentative, spluttering seconds, the engine roared to life.
Rebecca shifted the Jeep into drive and pulled back onto Highway 40. Heading east, following the taillights that had disappeared from sight.
Clines Corners, New Mexico—58 Miles to Albuquerque
First Cait tried bargaining.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “If you just stop the truck right now and let me out, I promise I won’t say anything about what happened.”
His face twisted in anger. “Don’t tell me what I need to do.”
Wrong move. Time to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. Don’t pretend like you don’t think you can control me. That’s what all you women think, isn’t it?”
Cait silently recalibrated her approach. She thought about how Rebecca had handled Scott back in the eighteen-wheeler, stroking his ego, letting him talk. Appeasing him.
“I would never tell you what to do,” she said, making her voice soft and gentle. “I don’t want to control you. I just want to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Shit. Wrong move again. “I know you don’t need my help. I just want to make things right between us. I thought we were friends.”
He laughed bitterly. “We were never friends.”
“Okay, well, I want to be your friend now. Just tell me what I’ve done wrong and I’ll try to make it right. Is it about money? I don’t have much, but—”
“Of course you would think it’s about money. That’s all you women think about, isn’t it? Well, Cait, some things can’t be bought. Things like respect, and dignity, and honor. You know what women like you are? You’re leeches. You suck the blood out of everything around you.”
“Adam, please, if you’ll just tell me—”
“Stop telling me what to do!” He squeezed his eyes shut. The truck veered across the road. “I told you,” he said through clenched teeth, “to shut your mouth.” He raised his hand from the steering wheel and slapped her, hard, with the back of his hand. Her head snapped