Chapter 5

5

Hank

"She tried what?"

Garrison couldn't disguise the laughter in his voice.

"She climbed the gate and got electrocuted."

"Jesus. Is she all right?"

"Listen, man, this is tough shit you left me with."

"So your answer is to take her out of LA? How is that logical?"

I glanced over at the woman beside me staring out the window. Yeah, I must have lost my fucking mind. In what universe did it sound logical to drag her six hours with me to Northern California? But the princess defied logic, bled guilt like I was caging in a wild, beautiful creature. Besides, I wouldn't put it past her to attempt another escape. She might just figure out how to deactivate the security, stab me in my sleep, and steal my keys and Jeep.

Despite what I told her she owed me, neither G nor I had the right to keep her prisoner. G wasn't even telling me the whole story, which pissed me off. I understood his concern for a former operative, but what stake did he have in all this? The princess had a point. There were geopolitical repercussions involved.

So, if she wanted to escape into a jungle, I'd give her better scenery.

We were on our way to Sonoma Valley. I had family there, although "family" was pushing it.

"You're on speaker. Need I remind you, she can hear you," I warned.

"Hello, friend of Hank," the princess said.

"She has a sense of humor," Garrison said.

"Far from it," I said.

"Have you cleared it with the detectives?"

"Yes. The pilot and driver are still being kept from agencies who want to get their hands on them. I suggest getting there quickly."

"I have no jurisdiction."

"You'll find a way."

"You're making a mistake, B."

"I'll call you when I get there," I told him. "There's a baked lasagna on the counter. Send someone to do cleanup."

"I'll get on it," he said and continued in a no-nonsense tone. "But let me remind you about who you have in custody. "

" Trust me, she's not likely to let me forget."

Garrison ended the call.

"So that's the guy I was talking to earlier." I looked in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. "And you're not far off the mark that he thinks you're hiding something. This whole scenario with the bomb on the plane might be staged to implicate Ramsay."

She looked out the window.

"And he's right. We probably shouldn't leave the city," I said. "But it's utter chaos at the Hollywood bureau and a jurisdiction nightmare. The police chief refuses to release them to agents of your brother or the FBI and ATF. This happened in LA, and they're keeping it an LA matter."

My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. We were sneaking out of LA at one in the morning.

"Listen, I'm hungry. I'm going to make a stop and pick something up." After our back-and-forth about her demanding the phone or she was marching out of there, it took me less than forty-five minutes to pack up and leave.

Thala still said nothing. Exasperated, I said, "You can give me the silent treatment, but it's going to suck since it's six hours to Sonoma."

She glanced at me. "Why there?"

"I've got family matters I need to take care of."

Before the on-ramp to the I-5, I pulled into a twenty-four-hour burger joint. "Will you eat a burger?"

"And milkshake."

Surprised, I bit back a smile. "Fries?"

"Sure."

Huh, maybe she was pissy because she was hungry since we didn't touch the lasagna. We had been too irritated with each other to eat then. The Jeep pulled into the drive-through, where I stopped by the menu board. "What flavor do you want for your milkshake?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Cookies and cream?"

"That's fine."

Her quick acquiescence sounded suspicious. After we received our food and the Jeep crawled through, I said, "If you plan to jump out of the car, I don't recommend it."

"What? And leave my milkshake?"

I couldn't help chuckling, and glanced at her. "Are you showing a sense of humor, Princess?"

"Just resigned to this. And since we're going on this road trip, you can call me Thala."

I grinned. "Progress."

"But what's your last name? I'm assuming it starts with a B?"

I took a bite of my burger, a sip of the soda, and pulled back into traffic. "It's Bristow."

"Hmm, like Sydney Bristow of Alias ."

I barked a laugh. "Yeah, trust you to watch shows with badass women."

"So, is it an alias?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah."

"Am I going to find out your real name?"

The Jeep joined the traffic on the I-5. "Sorry. I don't think we'll reach that point." And that was the truth. I'd been Hank Bristow for so long, I didn't know how to be anyone else. Not anyone on the team, or anyone I'd met after, knew my real name. Well, except Garrison, because he had access to every level of intel. He had the Director of National Intelligence on speed dial.

Thala said nothing after that, but I assumed it was because she was busy slurping the milkshake. The events of the day must have caught up with her, and soon after consuming the french fries and shake, she dozed off. She didn't touch the burger.

We needed to get her more clothes and pick up groceries and other basics for the cabin. Her face would be all over the news, especially the local channels. I'd just have to guess her size or something.

We were outside of Fresno when the sun started to rise. What I would give to stop at a diner and have some flapjacks, but it would be too risky. Thala, with her height and regal bearing, would call too much attention to herself.

The glare of the sun's rays must have woken her up. She yawned and stretched. "Where are we?"

"We're about halfway to Sonoma," I told her. "Need a stop?"

"Yes. I could use the facilities."

"You'll have to wear a baseball cap. Think you can do that?"

"Are you not afraid I'll call for help?"

I ignored her gibe and added, "Keep your head down, all right?" I took the exit for food and gas. Might as well fuel up for both vehicle and human. It was another three hours to Sonoma, and I wasn't as prepared as I usually was. I had fully intended to shop for supplies today, but a royal problem landed in my lap. Literally. Handing Thala over to Garrison didn't feel right. My feelings changed sometime between shooting that guy at the tarmac and her crashlanding onto me after her failed attempt to scale the gate. Princess Thala had rooted into my sense of responsibility. I wasn't ready to relinquish her to our esteemed leader, and that was why I took her out of LA.

"This is not a very comfortable ride," she muttered.

I might live to regret it if she turned out to be a pain in the ass, but her complaint was valid.

So was mine. "Sorry. Short notice."

She massaged the back of her neck.

"How are you feeling otherwise? Headache? Wooziness?"

She gave me a tight-lipped smile. "I'm good. Just feeling stiff."

When I pulled next to a pump, I turned off the engine and reached in the back, rummaged through my backpack, and unearthed a cap. "Put this on."

She hesitated for a beat before agreeing with my request. It was obvious she wasn't used to taking orders. I took the keys from the ignition and popped the gas tank. "You can get out and stretch. Don't go too far, and keep your head down."

I didn't wait for her to acknowledge. She didn't. I couldn't determine if Thala's grumpiness was a blessing or a curse.

Women liked me, dammit.

She was giving me a complex. It took a second or two before she got out of the Jeep. She stretched again, raised her arms, and bent from side to side. It reminded me of how that body had fallen on top of me. How my hand cupped her tits and how her ass landed against my crotch. After that tough landing on concrete, I just lay there a while to catch my breath. Her weight wasn't the cause of my oxygen depletion. It might have been my anxiety that she'd gotten electrocuted on my watch. At that point, my arms tightened around her with a combination of guilt and protectiveness. I tried to ignore how soft she felt on top of me. It had taken extreme willpower for my cock not to react. Concern for her took over, and I carried her inside.

The pump clicked, and the sound focused my attention on the next task. Provisions. A convenience store was not ideal, but this was one of the larger ones with enough variety. It would have to do.

Thala

I'd been to convenience stores in Europe, but it was always with an entourage of security which was aggravating because I considered myself the country's security.

Now this—this was something liberating. And exciting. Which was why I was going to behave myself and not give Hank a hard time. From what I could tell from his conversations with this G guy and the detectives, he'd already gone out on a limb for me several times.

He killed the guy who tried to shoot me. He was right. I owed him my life.

The milkshake and french fries put me in a relaxed mood. Still, I had misgivings if I was doing the right thing. But this feeling of freedom? The sun rising to a new day while on the road. Pretending to be dead. Maybe I could pretend to be dead longer and experience life not being a princess.

"Come on." He held out his hand.

I stared at it. "What are we doing?"

He gestured a "come-on" with that hand. "We're pretending to be a couple. They won't stare at you too long if we're a couple."

When he clasped my fingers, he tugged me close. The feeling was unsettling, but it didn't make my skin crawl. Just alien. Too intimate, but I didn't want to pull away. In my twenty-nine years, I'd never held hands with a man before. My sister and I always went solo when we attended events. And when it was all three siblings, we approached the table reserved for us in a staggered line.

Amadea ahead, I'm on her right slightly behind, and Petros on her left a smidge behind me. I always thought that custom was stupid.

Hank and I walked side by side. My eyes were still adjusting to the size of the convenience store. "It's…big. This is a convenience store?"

Hank chuckled. "You forget, everything is bigger in the U.S."

"Not necessarily better."

"Verdict's out on that." Amusement seeped into his tone. We walked through the sliding doors and I was thankful now that Hank was holding my hand. I let my curiosity investigate this new feeling under the mantle that I wasn't existing as Princess Thala but as a regular citizen of the United States, doing regular things like going to a convenience store. Having a fake relationship with a man was an unexpected detour in my life's plan.

The garish glare of fluorescent lights made my eyes squint. A sleepy clerk at the counter greeted us before returning his attention to his phone.

Hank continued to pull me past a series of aisles until we reached an opening with the label "Restrooms" above it.

He let go of my hand. "You can use the facilities and freshen up. I'll do the same." He nudged me to the ladies' room. "I'll wait for you out here."

When I hesitated, a corner of his mouth tipped up. "I'm sure there's no bomb threat there and I'm more worried about you trying to climb out a window, but I'm trusting you not to try anything foolish."

"None of those things crossed my mind."

"Then why the hesitation? You've never used a public restroom?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I have. It's just…I'm not sure of the right term…normal?"

"I can't wait to show you more normal things."

I found my cheek muscles moving into an unfamiliar smile and heat rushed to my cheeks. Before Hank could tell he made me blush, I turned away and pushed the door to the ladies' room open. There were a couple of stalls. All of them were empty. Beige tiles, black grouting. A small window that was too small for me to escape through, anyway. After I did my business, washed my hands, and splashed water on my face, I realized I hadn't rolled my eyes that way in a long time.

I thought about his last statement. What did he mean? And why was I looking forward to it, and why in Hela's hell was my stomach tied up in knots?

This was crazy.

This was not giddiness.

Hank Bristow, with that infuriating grin, did not make me giddy. But what was this incessant fluttering in my belly? I was probably hungry again.

When I opened the door, Hank was already waiting for me.

"I thought I would have had to come in and get ya," he said. He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the store.

"We're going to get snacks and canned food for now," he told me. "We have water in the Jeep, so we're good there."

We reached a row of coolers. "You have any allergies? I haven't checked your file yet."

I glanced at him sharply. "You mean my medical records?"

He sighed and dropped his hand from my back to move away, not looking at me.

I stepped toward him. "You have access to my medical records?"

"I could access them," he said, still not giving me his eyes. He opened a cooler. "Dairy allergy?"

"No. I don't have allergies, nor am I on any medication."

"Cool." He took out a carton of milk and a couple of tubs of yogurt. He also picked up two trays of eggs.

"Hank."

He finally gave me his attention, but his eyes were guarded, and his face so bland, it was conspicuous that he had made a faux pas hinting of this invasion of privacy. "Yeah?"

"I know you have access to classified information at the tips of your fingers, but I hope you'll grant me the courtesy of asking me first."

"Which is what I did."

"But you said it's because you didn't have the time to look into it yet."

"This is not a discussion for here," he said in a low voice. "Priorities first."

"Food?" I arched a brow just as my stomach grumbled.

"Breakfast."

After loading up with beef jerky, gum, and a couple of canned goods, we made our way to the counter. Beside it, the hot bar was getting loaded up and people were strolling in. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee reached my nose.

"Why don't you pick what you want?"

"I'm good. I still have the burger from a few hours ago."

"You sure? The burritos here are pretty good," Hank said. "Pick up what you want, sweetheart." Before I could fully absorb that he'd called me an endearment, he planted a kiss on my cheek, then he walked over to the cashier. He knew how to pretend very well. He was definitely a secret agent of some sort.

I inspected the foil-covered burritos and picked one egg and sausage, and another with cheese and eggs and peppers.

I heard the cashier ask Hank something.

"I'm trying to convince my girlfriend to move to California."

I glanced over my shoulder.

Hank was facing my way, but he was exchanging good-natured conversation with the cashier. His eyes were on me as I approached.

"What did you pick?" he asked.

"I hope you like eggs and sausage."

"You got two of those?"

"No. Mine is egg and cheese."

"Baby, that's boring."

I swallowed, but my cheeks were burning. I wasn't used to being a pretend girlfriend. "No, it's not. Doesn't mean I'll not have a taste of your egg and sausage."

The cashier choked on suppressed laugher. Hank turned away and muttered, "Add two large coffees to that."

Delayed realization singed my ears with mortification. I wasn't na?ve. What I said could be misconstrued as sexual. Keeping my mouth shut while in public seemed to be the best idea.

When the cashier finished ringing us up, I couldn't wait to get out of there and walked ahead of Hank. I couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Why are you running?" he drawled, catching up with me.

I glared at him.

His mouth twitched at the corners and then he tipped his chin toward the row of thermoses. "Grab the coffee, sweetheart. I take mine black." He winked. "But of course you know that."