Ian rotated back around and reached for the heater, but stopped himself. He’d been about to turn it down, but he knew that Noah would be half-frozen when he returned to the truck after running around outside. The snow and ice were gone, but temperatures had been drifting back below freezing recently. Noah would need to warm up. Yes, he’d keep the heater on high because Noah was coming back.
3:17.
Ian’s heart jumped in his chest as he reached for the gearshift. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the knob, but he couldn’t will himself to put the truck into drive. Maybe another minute. Noah would be there.
A flash of something dark caught his attention in the side mirror and Ian released the gearshift as he jerked around. Through the rear window, he caught sight of Noah running at full speed down the street as if the all the demons in hell were racing after him. At the same time, he was waving his arm at Ian, shouting for him to drive.
Twisting forward again, Ian slammed the truck into drive and pulled out of the parking spot, wincing a bit at the sound of metal scraping on metal as the truck’s front bumper scraped the car in front of it. Just as Ian got straightened on the street, a loud thump sounded from the bed of the truck. Ian glanced over his shoulder long enough to spot Noah flattened out in the bed.
Relief rushed through Ian, but it lasted only until he reached the end of the block and he spotted Mick’s car turning the corner and starting down the street behind him. Fuck. Had Mick seen Noah dropping into the truck? Did he suspect that Ian was a getaway car? Every instinct demanded that he slam his foot down on the gas and scream down the street, but he couldn’t. Most of the streets in Covington were residential. These old blocks typically had cars parked on either side, barely leaving room for one car to get down the block. Racing ahead at full speed was going to end only one way—with Ian plowing into another car.
He had to bluff. Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, he stuck to the speed limit as he wove his way through the various blocks, desperately searching for some sign of a main road or even the interstate, but every block he traveled was taking him closer and closer to the river and Rowe had been adamant that they stay away from downtown.
But Mick followed his every turn. Ian couldn’t be sure that Mick knew he held Noah or if he was merely suspicious.
After several blocks, Ian finally spotted a sign for the interstate and followed it. But that meant getting onto a main road that had several lanes. At the first opportunity, Ian spotted Mick changing lanes to pull up alongside him. Ian pulled his beanie down lower, careful to cover his hair before snagging down a pair of sunglasses that were tucked in the visor. The sun was starting to set, but there was still enough as they faced west to warrant them. Rowe’s large aviator frames covered a big chunk of his face. Ian prayed it was enough to obscure his features from Mick should he look at him. Ian didn’t dare glance over as they waited for the light to change to green.
With barely a movement of his head, Ian looked into the rearview mirror to find that Noah was now hidden under a large blue tarp. Both shielded from the wind and from sight, Ian prayed that he was secure enough for him to get on the highway because with Mick still so close, Ian couldn’t risk pulling over in Covington and letting Noah into the cab. They had to keep going.
The light changed and Ian grabbed the on-ramp to the expressway. And so did Mick. He racked his brain for a good place to stop that Mick would be reluctant to follow. He skimmed the signs of approaching exits when an idea hit him as they approached the Fort Mitchell exit.
Pressing on the gas, he glanced over his shoulder, terrified that he was going to crush some little old lady’s tiny Prius or Fiat in Rowe’s monster truck as he changed lanes. He grabbed the Fort Mitchell exit and nearly wept when the light stayed green long enough for him to cut straight through. Mick was still following him, but that lasted for only another few blocks when he suddenly turned left, cutting across two lanes of traffic to pull into the Fort Mitchell fire department. He kept going, directing the truck to a parking spot behind the building and throwing it into park.
He allowed himself a second to suck in two deep breaths and pry his trembling fingers loose from the wheel. His knuckles ached from the death grip he’d kept as he drove, but a quick glance in the mirror showed that Mick had not followed them behind the fire department building.