Page 30 of The Hero
It had saved them at the checkpoint in Bangkok, and he hoped it would continue to be a good luck charm.
Without looking back, Bob eased the scooter out of the yard, started it up, and raced down the dark alley.
The closer they got to the border, the more tense things seemed. Neither spoke much as they rode along the dark back roads, trying to avoid heavier traffic. They only had one more stop in Thailand, a safe house less than a mile from the border. So far, everything had workedout according to plan. But Bob knew more than most people that the second he let down his guard, that’s when things could go awry. So the closer they got, the more on edge he became.
It was still dark when they neared another run-down house in yet another small village. Most of their safe houses had been little more than shacks ... but for some reason, just looking at this one made the hair on the back of Bob’s neck stand up.
He shut off the scooter, but didn’t attempt to dismount.
“Kendric?”
Bob would never tire of hearing Marlowe say his name. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine,” he said to reassure her. She sounded just as nervous as he felt. “This time tomorrow, we’ll be in Cambodia.”
He felt her nod against him. She was plastered to his back, her arms locked around him, as she had been for every second of the last few nights. The scooter might not be the fastest mode of transportation, but it got them where they needed to go, was able to travel on smaller roads and paths that a car couldn’t. And it gave him an excuse to keep Marlowe wrapped around him.
“Come on. Let’s greet our hosts and get some sleep.”
His lips twitched at the huff of annoyance that left Marlowe’s lips. “As if you’ll sleep,” she muttered.
She wasn’t wrong. He didn’t sleep much, the previous day notwithstanding. Definitely not deeply. And it was only partly because of the nightmares he couldn’t seem to shake. He wanted to make sure Marlowe was safe. That no one sneaked up on them. The thought of her being taken back to that prison—and treated even worse because she’d escaped—was unbearable. A lack of sleep was a small price to pay to ensure her freedom.
Bob believed her story about what had landed her in this unbelievable situation in the first place. He’d made a mental note to find this Ian West and make certain he couldn’t screw over anyone else ever again. He’d rue the day he decided to not only steal from the dig, but also set up one of the sweetest women Bob had ever met.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Hop off, Punky.”
She immediately swung a leg over the seat, and Bob couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d tried to stand after riding behind him. She’d definitely gotten the hang of the bike since then.
He climbed off himself, then reached for her hand. It was instinctive. Natural. Every day, as soon as they were done riding, they reached for each other. Held hands as long as they could. Neither had brought it up; they’d just fallen into the routine.
Pushing the scooter with one hand and holding on to Marlowe with the other, Bob headed for the back door of the dwelling owned by their latest contact.
It opened before he knocked, and a man stood there with a frown on his face. A woman peeked out from around him.
“In,” he said gruffly, opening the door farther.
For a moment, Bob hesitated. He wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made him so uneasy, but just like when he’d seen the small dwelling, his gut instinct flared to life.
He was about to turn away, to tell Marlowe they’d find somewhere else to hole up for the day, when she yawned.
Studying her for a moment, even in the dark he could see the deeper shadows under her eyes. She was exhausted. And while he had no doubt if he told her they were going to continue on, she’d not let one word of complaint cross her lips, he didn’t want to do that to her. She’d already been through so much.
“Hang on a little longer and you can get some sleep,” he said, trying to shove his unease aside.
“I’m good,” she said, lifting her chin as if to challenge him.
Bob simply smiled and squeezed her hand before following the man inside. He left the scooter propped against the house and prayed it would still be there later. This far from the city, and away from the possibility of better-paying jobs, it was obvious people were struggling.
The couple led them through a cold, dark kitchen and a room with a low table, two wooden chairs, and nothing else, and finally intoa bedroom at the front of the house. There was a pallet on the floor, a few threadbare blankets, a couple of broken crates that held what Bob thought were clothes, and some worn shoes against the wall.
The man nodded at them, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Bob sighed. It wasn’t as if he expected another hot meal and shower—the fact that they’d gotten both at the older woman’s house was a bonus, not an expectation—but he knew the people helping them get across the country were being paid generously to do so. Even a bit of rice would have been appreciated.
“It’s okay,” Marlowe said, as if she could read his mind. “I’m not hungry. Just tired.”
“We’ve got a few protein bars left,” Bob said. “You can eat one of those.”
She nodded, then looked at the bed with a small grimace.
