Blood Is Thicker...
By
Christine
Part Three
Chapter 21
She slammed the brakes and her head received a good knock on the steering wheel. Pik was thrown against the back seat, but wasted no time in filling in the driver's seat once Madeleine had moved over. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows incredulously, "Who the Hell taught you how to drive?!"
"I'm sorry!" she said, "What do you expect?"
"Nevermind," he said. He sped north on the highway, but then exited and re-entered going south and drove back into the heart of New Orleans.
"Shouldn't we…"
"Relax, I know what I'm doing," he reassured. "Keep your eyes open to see if any of our friends are following us." He caught a glimpse of her bleeding legs. "Hey, are you going to be okay?"
"It looks worse than it is, they're just little cuts." She noticed tears in Pik's clothing and blood seeping through the rips. "What about you?" She was concerned but continued to scan to see if they were being followed.
"Nah, it's nothing."
"Where are we going now?"
"On our honeymoon, where else?"
"This is some honeymoon, Pik!"
"Hey, remember we were planning on leaving tonight anyway. I already have everything set up, okay?"
"Okay, just please get us away from here." She absently wiped at the blood on her legs with her hands. They were only small injuries, and had already started scabbing over. She wondered how many people had been shot or killed because of her this night, and if her father had been one of them. She thought about what her father had said about Pik hunting people, too. But she kept her thoughts to herself, and kept watching for anyone following them. She watched Pik's face as well. He seemed almost exhilarated by the evening's experience, and totally in his element.
***
At last confident they had lost anyone following them, Pik pulled the battered Jeep into a storage facility. Rows and rows of large concrete storage garages filled a massive asphalt lot. He stopped in front of one bays and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. So involved was he with his task that he nearly missed Madeleine's pensive state.
"Maddie, look at me, love."
She turned her face toward his. There were no tears, no accusation in her eyes. She seemed to be simply trying to comprehend everything she had just experienced.
He gently stroked her cheek. "Oh, Maddie," he whispered, "we can talk about everything once we're safely on our way out of here, okay?"
She nodded.
"Do you still want to come with me?" he asked, then cursed himself for giving her an opening to leave.
She nodded again, more quickly this time. He leaned into her, wanting to brush his lips against hers, but hesitated, afraid she would pull back. But she breached the short distance to where he had stopped, and welcomed his approach with her mouth and her arms and her heart. He broke the kiss and squeezed her tightly with relief.
He leaned his forehead onto hers and said, "We really do need to leave now. I don't want to take the chance of us getting caught out."
"Okay, tell me what I need to do to help."
They both exited the Jeep, and Madeleine held their bags while Pik unlocked the garage and drove the Jeep inside. He pulled the door down and locked it, then moved to the next garage and unlocked its bay door. He went inside and she heard him start up a vehicle, and she stepped out of the way so he could drive it out. When she saw it, she dropped her jaw. It was an old, beat-up-looking VW Beetle.
"This isn't exactly your style" she said to him after he rolled down the window.
He smiled broadly, "Exactly." She nodded in understanding.
"Where to now?" she asked.
Pik had to give it some thought. He had planned for them to stay in his flat in the city for the night, but he knew it would take a determined Fouchon only a few phone calls to find out about it. Switching vehicles would definitely throw him off the trail, but that would be useless if they were tracked down by morning. He hopped out, took the bags from her and ran around to open the passenger door for her. Still not sure exactly where they would go, he told her, "I think we'd better change clothes. We'll definitely attract attention looking this way."
They went inside the garage and changed hastily out of their tattered
clothing, each wincing in turn as the fabric from their clothes rubbed against the small put painful slices in their skin.
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