angry. At her? She wasn’t sure, but he was no longer treating her with kid gloves. She greeted that fact with relief.
Hatred, anger she could take. She wasn’t used to softness. Gentleness. Caring. She had no idea how to respond to kindness. Maybe now she could stop being a watering pot every time he looked at her.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She had to get away from Manny before he died because of her. The men who had tried to kill them were from the NFR. Under Northstar’s direction, she was sure. No matter how much Manny thought he could protect her, he had no idea what he was up against.
In her duffle bag were passports, money, weapons. Everything she needed to get out of the country and draw attention away from Manny. Normally she would be patient, but she didn’t have time to wait until an opportunity presented itself. She would have to make her own.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, I can assure you I won’t like it.”
She turned to look at him as his voice filled the car. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“It’s not that hard to figure out,” he said with a sideways glance at her. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, especially not with a bunch of machine gun-wielding maniacs on the loose.”
He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and let out his breath. “Know who those jokers were?”
“I have an idea.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
She looked down at her hands. “They’re from an organization called the New French Revolution.”
“Christ. Nothing like having a bunch of terrorists wanting to kill you.”
“You know who they are?” she asked with a frown in his direction. “The NFR is a pretty low-key organization. They never publicly take credit for their hits like so many of the Middle Eastern terrorist cells.”
“I think the more important question is why you know who they are and why they want to kill you.”
“It’s complicated.” More complicated than he could possibly know. She wasn’t even sure she understood her role. Drifting between two worlds, neither good.
“So tell me, Jules, when is a good time? Maybe after I’ve taken a bullet in the ass?”
“You’re angry.”
“No, I’m pissed ,” he corrected. “I tend to get that way when I’ve been shot at.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you shot at often?”
“Don’t change the subject. Why is the NFR after you?”
“They’re pissed off at me.”
“So am I, but I’m not trying to kill you.”
“But they’re really pissed.”
“And why are they pissed, Jules? Terrorist groups don’t usually single out an individual. They’re much more interested in large masses of people.”
“They aren’t technically terrorists,” she muttered.
He nearly veered off the road. Slowing drastically, he turned to her, his mouth agape. “Jules, why the hell are you defending a terrorist organization?”
“I’m not defending them,” she protested. And she wasn’t. Shit. She should have just kept her mouth shut and let him think what he wanted. “A terrorist and a revolutionary aren’t the same thing. A terrorist is, well, a terrorist. They operate on fear. No real or realistic agenda. A revolutionary acts to effect change. They have realistic goals.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” he said in a strained voice. “Call them what you want. They’re goddamn criminals, and they’ve killed a lot of Americans.”
“So has the American government,” she said bitterly.
He shook his head, his face reddening. So he was obviously a patriot. She had been one too, in the beginning. Now she just wanted to move to some remote jungle. Away from patriotic duty and the bullshit that was honor.
Another long moment of silence settled over them. She twisted her hands in front of her and took a deep breath. “Manny?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened to Mom and Pop?” Her voice wavered more than she wanted it to, but her parents had died and there hadn’t even been so much as a
Hatred, anger she could take. She wasn’t used to softness. Gentleness. Caring. She had no idea how to respond to kindness. Maybe now she could stop being a watering pot every time he looked at her.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She had to get away from Manny before he died because of her. The men who had tried to kill them were from the NFR. Under Northstar’s direction, she was sure. No matter how much Manny thought he could protect her, he had no idea what he was up against.
In her duffle bag were passports, money, weapons. Everything she needed to get out of the country and draw attention away from Manny. Normally she would be patient, but she didn’t have time to wait until an opportunity presented itself. She would have to make her own.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, I can assure you I won’t like it.”
She turned to look at him as his voice filled the car. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“It’s not that hard to figure out,” he said with a sideways glance at her. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, especially not with a bunch of machine gun-wielding maniacs on the loose.”
He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and let out his breath. “Know who those jokers were?”
“I have an idea.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
She looked down at her hands. “They’re from an organization called the New French Revolution.”
“Christ. Nothing like having a bunch of terrorists wanting to kill you.”
“You know who they are?” she asked with a frown in his direction. “The NFR is a pretty low-key organization. They never publicly take credit for their hits like so many of the Middle Eastern terrorist cells.”
“I think the more important question is why you know who they are and why they want to kill you.”
“It’s complicated.” More complicated than he could possibly know. She wasn’t even sure she understood her role. Drifting between two worlds, neither good.
“So tell me, Jules, when is a good time? Maybe after I’ve taken a bullet in the ass?”
“You’re angry.”
“No, I’m pissed ,” he corrected. “I tend to get that way when I’ve been shot at.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you shot at often?”
“Don’t change the subject. Why is the NFR after you?”
“They’re pissed off at me.”
“So am I, but I’m not trying to kill you.”
“But they’re really pissed.”
“And why are they pissed, Jules? Terrorist groups don’t usually single out an individual. They’re much more interested in large masses of people.”
“They aren’t technically terrorists,” she muttered.
He nearly veered off the road. Slowing drastically, he turned to her, his mouth agape. “Jules, why the hell are you defending a terrorist organization?”
“I’m not defending them,” she protested. And she wasn’t. Shit. She should have just kept her mouth shut and let him think what he wanted. “A terrorist and a revolutionary aren’t the same thing. A terrorist is, well, a terrorist. They operate on fear. No real or realistic agenda. A revolutionary acts to effect change. They have realistic goals.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” he said in a strained voice. “Call them what you want. They’re goddamn criminals, and they’ve killed a lot of Americans.”
“So has the American government,” she said bitterly.
He shook his head, his face reddening. So he was obviously a patriot. She had been one too, in the beginning. Now she just wanted to move to some remote jungle. Away from patriotic duty and the bullshit that was honor.
Another long moment of silence settled over them. She twisted her hands in front of her and took a deep breath. “Manny?”
“Yeah?”
“What happened to Mom and Pop?” Her voice wavered more than she wanted it to, but her parents had died and there hadn’t even been so much as a
Similar Books
