Kiss Me If You Dare

3

Denton nodded his approval. “Wise choice.”

The car accelerated.

I glared his way. “You said I didn’t have a choice.”

“Then see what a good decision you made? Now you don’t have to be angry with me for making you do something you didn’t want to do.”

My jaw wiggled back and forth. With a course of action set, I thought ahead to my admissions meeting. “I take it I should clean up a little before my interview.”

“Another good decision.”

I flicked a wrist toward my stale clothing. “I don’t have anything to wear. And I’m going to need a shower.”

He looked over at me as if waiting for something, then went back to driving.

I studied his profile as we drove past homes converted into law firms and dentist offices. Without his chunky glasses, Denton was actually quite handsome. He’d trimmed his moustache to a slim white line. A few errant curls above his ears added a dash of mystery. His shoulders were pulled back in proud posture, completely opposite the slouchy sag he’d carried on the drive from Minnesota. If the guy hadn’t been in his sixties, I’d have sworn I was attracted to him.

“I suggest you take a shower and change your clothes if that’s what you need to do,” he finally answered, taking a left past the McDonald’s at the Welcome to Del Gloria sign.

The road widened into a highway, and a minute later we left the town behind and drove along a flat, open stretch. At a road marked Del Gloria International AI-PORT, the doc turned right.

I twiddled my thumbs. “If there’s an airport nearby, how come we drove all the way from Minnesota?”

“Two reasons. First, you had no identification. Only false documents would have allowed us to fly without giving away the whereabouts of Patricia Louise Amble.”

That made sense. “And second?” I asked.

“Second, it gave me time to analyze you and design your course of study.” He pulled into the rent-a-car lot and stopped the car. “So what have you decided?”

I fidgeted under his stare. “Decided about what?”

“About how you’re going to obtain the shower and change of clothing you mentioned.”

Oh, the humility of it all. I swallowed my pride. “I guess I was hoping you’d help me out with that for today. I have no money. No checkbook. And you cut up my debit card.”

“For your own safety.” He gave me an inquiring look. “So exactly what do you need?”

I grunted in frustration. “Money. For clothes and things.” I wasn’t about to give him a shopping list that included personal items.

“Do you remember what I told you that first night at the hotel?”

I nodded.

“Just ask and anything you need will be provided. Anything at all,” he said.

The rent-a-car attendant stood outside, writing on a clipboard as he waited for us to get out of the vehicle.

I blinked back tears and cleared my throat. A muscle in the side of my face twitched. Then my chin launched into a stubborn quiver. Right under Denton’s probing gaze, I felt my whole face collapse into a wrinkled ball. My gasping sobs filled the car. Tears landed in puddles on my jeans.

How had my life come to this? Thirty-three years old and I was begging for my bread. Me, the woman who’d broken free of that pit I’d called home in Walled Lake. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d done it through my own hard work. And later, after sinking into the mire those three years behind bars, I’d grabbed myself by the bootstraps, given them a mighty yank, and gotten back on my feet. Then I’d saved and slaved and bought my first home to renovate. And today I had stocks in my name. Bonds about to mature. Certificates of Deposit ready to be cashed.

I sniffled and raised my head. I wasn’t desperate and destitute. I was just temporarily barred from accessing my funds. This layman’s witness protection program might be humbling, but I could survive it. It wasn’t what I’d expected, but Brad meant the best when he’d set me up with Denton.

Brad. The name gave my already-raw heart another twist. He’d rescued me from the clutches of a scam artist in Rawlings and saved me from death at the hands of slimeball drug dealers in Port Silvan. He’d been eight hours away from making me his official bride-to-be when- The sound of a gunshot cracked through my mind. A stab of pain gripped my arm. The momentary burst of memory launched a migraine across my forehead.

Candice LeJeune’s face swirled red before my eyes. She’d ruined everything. My life had been coming together for the first time. Then she’d lured me into her illegal activities. All the thanks I’d gotten was a bullet in the arm. I rubbed my bandage, trying to wrangle up the details of that crazy morning. In the end, all that mattered was I’d done what Brad had told me to do: get to Del Gloria and Denton Braddock.

Now, sitting under the disapproving glare of Sir Grump-a-lot, I wish I’d argued with Brad a little more. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Feel better?” Denton asked. He said it without condemnation. The softened response came as a surprise, and I let my guard down. “Yeah. I guess I needed that.”

“It was overdue.” He unfolded a tissue from his pocket and passed it to me.

“Thanks.” I dried my tears. I’d held myself together pretty good over the past several days, despite the events in Michigan. Today, it felt good to have a moment of relief.

We exited the rental car, Denton signed the clipboard, and we headed toward the parking lot.

“Thank you,” the attendant said with a cheery wave, as if the extra ten minutes I’d needed to pull myself together were no big deal.

Denton jangled a set of keys. “I’ll have you drop me at the college. Then you can take my car to do your shopping and go back to the house to get ready. Your appointment is at two o’clock at Walters Hall.”

Walters. The same as Brad’s last name. It seemed I couldn’t avoid reminders of him today.

Denton pressed the security button on his key chain. A bleep sounded to the left. He walked to the passenger side door of a sleek, black Jaguar and threw me the keys.

I stared at the vehicle. “Your real car is a Jag?”

“Surprised?” he asked, getting in.

I settled myself in the soft leather behind the steering wheel. It smelled as good as Brad’s hunky SUV, which was probably sitting in a Minnesota body shop.

I glanced at the distinguished-looking man beside me. “Today nothing surprises me. Yesterday, I would have been shocked.”

“Oh, you mean because of your mistaken first impressions?” I listened to the purr of the engine before putting the car in reverse. “Exactly. What was that all about anyway?”

“It was necessary in order to ascertain your level of spiritual growth. At Del Gloria College, we want to know if a prospective student takes the world at face value, or if they look deeper, past the exterior, to discover a person’s core. Now that I’ve observed your behavior, I can assign you to the appropriate classes.”

I pulled to the end of the row. My arm only hurt a little. “Excuse me? You had to act like a dweeb so you could tell where I’m at spiritually? You could have just asked.”

“Words mean nothing. Only actions.”

I’d been tolerant of his whole geek show all the way to California. Of course I’d passed his simple test.

He pointed. “Get back on the main road and take it to the other end of town.”

I pressed on the gas. A tumbleweed, blown loose from the open field, cut across the road in front of me. “So you’re not the Nutty Professor, you’re really some richer-than-thou instructor at a Christian college. And I should have been open-minded enough to guess the truth.” I gave a disgruntled humph. “If it’s all about actions, then I fail to see how I’m supposed to feel good about living under your roof the next few months.”

“That’s too optimistic,” he said. “You’ll be here longer than a few months. Much longer.”

The flat expanse turned into a residential zone as we crossed town. Then the route became tunnel-like as we passed beneath a canopy of trees. Birds fluttered from branch to branch seeking cover from the hot sun.

“You know,” I said to Denton, “Brad is going to tie up the loose ends of that whole drug-deal thing and then contact me to come home. I’ll be here six months at the most.”

He sighed deep and heavy, as if the entire matter were beyond my understanding and he didn’t have time to explain. “It’s a complex situation. You’ll have to be patient.”

I heaved a sigh of my own. Seven days since my world fell apart. It had only been seven days. I tapped my foot on the gas pedal, surging past the foreign landscape. I did some math as I pulled onto College Boulevard. The median burst with the stunning pink blooms of some exotic bush, the perfect color for bridesmaids’ dresses. I pictured the delicate shade on Brad’s sister Samantha and wrinkled my nose. She’d look like a swirl of cotton candy.

I swung my mind back around to my calculations. About a hundred eighty more days before I could be with Brad again. Then I’d be back in Port Silvan and I’d finish the renovations on my log cabin in the woods. And somehow Brad and I would find a way to be together. Only a hundred eighty more days.

I already suffered being away this long. My lungs couldn’t seem to fill with air. My stomach churned more than usual, leaving an acid trail in my throat. And an ache hovered at the front of my neck, as if I might launch into another round of tears at any moment. Somehow being near Brad put my body, mind, and spirit in proper alignment. As long as I was with him, I was feeling no pain. “Turn right,” Denton said.

The Jag responded to my one-armed commands as I angled around a corner toward a low glass building at the end of a circle drive. I pulled up to the curb.

“Here.” Denton opened his wallet and counted out a thousand in crisp hundreds. He held the stack toward me.

I gasped and put up a palm to stop him. “Oh my. That’s overkill. One of those should be enough.”

“Get what you need today so you don’t have to think about it anymore. You’ll be glad you did.”

I studied his face for hidden meaning. He seemed sincere, but something screamed “Warning, warning!” Really, what kind of person carried a thousand dollars’ cash in his wallet on a daily basis?

He nudged the bills into my hand.

The kind of guy that owned a Jaguar, I supposed.

“Thank you.” My voice was barely a whisper.

“You’re welcome. I’ll meet you after your interview, there,” he pointed across campus to a domed building that could pass for a state capitol, “at Walters Hall.” He got out of the car. “Oh,” he added, “driving without a license is illegal in all fifty states. So don’t get pulled over until we can get your new identity set up.”

The door slammed shut with the discreet hush of a luxury vehicle.

I stayed for a moment and watched my guardian ogre enter the building, disappearing behind silver glass that reflected a black Jaguar parked at the curb out front.

My fingers rubbed at the stack of hundred-dollar bills. A thousand bucks, a luxury car for the day-life wasn’t so bad. The woman in the reflection smiled at me, waving the money in her hand.

I put the car in gear and drove toward town, caught up in the thrill of the hunt.