Page 32 of Fire
His tear-filled eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d still been back in Chicago. They would have made sure they picked you up there. You were part of their blueprint for the assassination that was supposed to happen today. I’d bet money you were part of it for a while now, probably since you first started writing your articles about the Reivers.”
He's quiet as his sharp mind starts piecing this fucked up jigsaw puzzle together.
“We all assumed Patriots Now teaming up with the Reivers was just because they needed their muscle and outlaw connections, but they’ve been breeding Digger as the martyr for their cause for a long-ass time. Hell, that’s why they went to the trouble of getting Laslo in their pocket. His job has been to keep Digger on a leash and guide him where they wanted him to be. Back when Grave and I were in the club, Laslo was encouraging Digger’s whole grassroots ‘bring America back to its root’ shit he’s been thumping at every state fair and rally.”
“I always wondered why someone involved in so many illegal activities would court the media attention as he does.”
“Digger loves the spotlight, and Patriots Now have played the long game with him. Carefully marketing him to the press and the public so they could put him on the Freedom Fest stage to announce he’s running for governor and then be assassinated by you, a troubled left-wing journalist. Digger’s death and your guilt were always meant to be the rallying cry for their revolution.”
Evan takes that in for a moment, and I watch the anger spark in him. Because I know he desperately needs something to focus on, I purposely fan the flame. “So no, Barry’s death wasn’t your fault. Neither was Cash and Cyrus getting hurt or the long list of people they’ve killed to further their sicko agenda, but you could be the one to give Barry and all the others justice. To exposejust what they’d planned and ensure they can’t make their revolution a reality.”
The fire lights and a look of determination replaces the sadness in his eyes. He brings Delilah in for a kiss and then puts her in her carrying case, retrieves his computer from his backpack, and starts typing.
Chapter 12
Luca
We finally reach the cabin. Evan doesn’t even look up when I pull into the long driveway. He’s’ been busy typing non-stop through four states.
“Evan,” I call to him. He doesn’t look up. “Evan.” I shake his shoulder. He finally looks up at me, eyes blinking. “We’re at the cabin. Grab Delilah, and let’s get inside.”
He follows me through the cabin door and lets Delilah out, who suspiciously starts sniffing at her surroundings while he goes straight to the small table and chairs, sits down, and starts writing without even looking around.
Granted, there’s not much to look at. It’s an open-plan space with one wall almost entirely covered by a stone fireplace. A galley kitchen fits neatly in the corner, and the opposite corner is the door to the bathroom. The only furniture I have are the table and chairs Evan currently sits at and the large California King bed that takes most of the cabin’s square footage.
Fuck. One bed.
I don’t even have a couch. I never took other people up here, so I was never concerned about getting any other furniture. And I was so desperate to get Evan to the safety of my cabin that I hadn’t even thought about the sleeping situation.
Heat fills me as I Imagine laying Evan down on that bed,mybed, and?—
We can’t share the bed…. Can we?
One, I don’t even know if Evan would want that. Sure, we had sex, and for me, it was everything, but Evan seemed to be perfectly happy with his Grindr dates. Maybe I’m just another one of his hit-it and quit-it hookups.
And even if Evan would be willing to share my bed, the answer has got to be no. I’m not a prude. I’d done too many things—seentoo many things—ever to be considered that. But share the bed with Evan? I can’t do that.
I want it too much. I wanthimtoo much.
With the shit that went down in Lexington and the situation with Cash and Johnny being held by Digger, I don’t know what kind of trouble is coming for all of us. Add in the fact that Evan was being groomed as Patriots Now’s scapegoat in addition to still being targeted by the Reivers means I’m on code red fucking high alert. There’s no room for me to get distracted, and since I left Evan in Chicago because my attraction for him kept me from being able to protect him the way I needed to, I definitely can’t afford those same distractions now.
Especially since I figured out I love him. Yeah, there’s no more “pretty sure” anymore. I have never been more certain of anything in my life. The sun is in the sky, grass is green, and I love Evan Kelly.
Seeing him on his knees yesterday, about to end his life to keep the crowd safe from the sniper, was the worst moment of my life, and considering I’ve had some suck-ass moments as competition for that spot, it tells me something. Again—I freaking love Evan Kelly.
I’ll do anything, risk anything, sacrifice anything to make sure he never goes through another experience like he did yesterday. His safety is everything to me. So, no. I won’t besleeping in that bed with Evan. I can sleep out on the porch. If I clean them up, a few Adirondack chairs will make do as a serviceable enough place to sleep.
With Evan still obsessively typing at his computer, I bring in the supplies I picked up at a store in Beloit. Then I do a perimeter check on my property and make sure the surveillance cameras I put up after I’d left the Reivers are all working. They’re not as fancy as the equipment Eli gave me for Evan’s apartment, but after checking them out thoroughly, I’m sure they’ll get the job done.
Next, I set up what I call my “Reiver traps” that I use whenever I stay here. A fine wire coil set up around the property that’s not already backed up against the bluff to injure anyone human-sized who tries to get here by foot in the dark. I bury a few C4 caps that will cause small mini-explosions if I trigger them off. Finally, I gather up my guns and other weapons I keep in a hidden compartment in the cabin’s floorboards, take them out to the shed behind the cabin, clean them up, and make sure they are all in good working order. It may be overkill, but I always knew I needed to be prepared if Digger changed his mind and sent the Reivers after me, and I’m doubly glad I have that arsenal now that Evan is here.
Because if anybody comes after Evan, they’re gonna have to come through me first.
When I return to the cabin, Evan has miraculously stopped writing and is watching a video on his computer with a look of disgust on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
