Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
She huffed out a laugh. “If you want me to keep this photo a secret, you’re going to take me with you.”
Stunned, he gaped at her. He was completely unaccustomed to being on this side of a negotiation, and honestly, it sucked. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a sleep attack.”
Whatever he was going to say next evaporated from his thoughts. “A sleep attack?”
“When one gets an uncontrollable urge to sleep. A common symptom of narcolepsy.”
“Why not just say ‘serious as a heart attack’?”
“Because heart attacks kill people! I don’t want to make light of that!”
“But if someone has a sleep attack while driving,” he argued, “couldn’t that also be leth—”
“Fitz! Listen to what I’m telling you! If you want to keep this a secret, you’re taking me with you. Yes or no?”
A flush of vulnerability passed over her face, and he felt a subtle shift in power. It wasn’t quite enough to get the ball back in his court; he needed to leverage everything he could. “I think you need to tell me what had you breaking into the lab at midnight on a Sunday.”
“No way,” she said, resolutely shaking her head.
“Then go ahead and show Audran the photo. I’ll just tell him I was changing things back after busting you fixing your score in here.”
She gasped, long and horrified. “You wouldn’t dare.”
This made him laugh. “Of course I would. If you’re going to take me down, I’m taking you down with me.”
“Audran wouldn’t believe it. And…” She looked around, desperately searching for something, before setting her steely gaze back on him. “Listen, mister. Everyone else here might be fooled by your charm and looks and voice, but not me.”
He leaned in, giving her his best, teasing smile. This is what he was good at. He could flirt his way out of anything. “My charm and looks and voice, huh?”
She flushed. Bingo. “What I’m saying,” she started, for once visibly flustered, “is that I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve cheated, and the last thing you want is the dean looking closer into your past here.”
She was grasping at straws, but it was too close to the truth for his comfort. Fitz closed his eyes, trying to weigh the situation objectively. A handful of days with Ren jabbering his ear off in the car versus potentially having academic dishonesty on his permanent record, losing his recommendation letter, and—most importantly—ruining any chance at having his criminal record expunged. Basically, if she exposed him, he could lose everything.
There was no question. He’d come too far.
Fitz bent, cupping his forehead in his palm. He could get her to Nashville and dump her wherever she needed to be before he went to Mary’s, before his interview, before Ren learned anything else about his life. “I planned on leaving Tuesday, before spring break starts. It means I’m missing half a week of classes.”
“That’s fine,” she said, nodding. “I can make it up, no problem.”
Jaw clenched, he stared at the wall for a few deep breaths. Finally, he looked squarely at her, trying to infuse some menace into his voice: “If you’re coming with me, there will be rules.”
Her face cleared, eyes round in relief. “Anything you say.”
“Number one, I’m in charge.”
“One hundred percent!”
“And…” He dug around, trying to find more ground rules, but all he could focus on was how much this was going to suck.
“And?”
“And I’ll tell you the rest when we leave.”
She lifted her arm in a dorky salute. “Yes, sir!”
“Rule two: No saluting.”
Ren dropped her hand, bowing instead.
“Rule two continued: No bowing.”
She straightened, rigid. “I’m so relieved. Thank you, Fitz. I promise I won’t show anyone the photo, and you can count on me, because—”
“No talking, either.”
She motioned to zip her mouth closed and he pushed away from the desk, standing. With a sigh, Fitz turned, making sure Audran’s computer reflected his doctored score before shutting it down and checking that all the items on the desk were the way he found them. When he turned back, Ren was still standing at attention, waiting.
From behind her pinned lips she mumbled, “Ahrarehrooree ruhrehrohrihrarhrrharhar!”
He stared, finally relenting. “What.”
She mimed unzipping her lips. “I promise to be the best road trip partner ever!”
“Sure, whatever,” he said. “Meet me outside of Davis Hall at six on Tuesday evening. Don’t be late.”
CHAPTER TEN
REN
Ren had never seen an airplane from anything closer than tens of thousands of feet overhead, but her parents had. They used to fly all over, apparently, until the greed and corruption of the world got to be too much, and they sold everything they owned and moved onto the land Steve inherited from his grandparents that became their homestead. But even though they wouldn’t step foot in an airport again, her parents would humor her when she was smaller and wanted to hear all about it. They’d tell her about the ticketing agents and the fancy uniforms they’d wear, about the security lines and how it used to stress them out something awful. Ren would ask over and over again to hear about how big the planes were up close, about walking down the jetway and getting to their seat and being given little bags of peanuts or crackers and a whole can of ginger ale just for themselves, and about getting to the airport hours early to get through it all.