“Evan!  What are you doing!”  Lia grabbed my elbow, but I shook her off and told her to sit back and be quiet.  She huffed at me but did as I said.

“You should listen to Miss Antonio,” the driver said.  “Pointing a gun at the driver isn’t safe for the passengers.  I could get nervous and make a mistake.”

Miss Antonio?  How did he know her name?

“Please, Evan.”

I ignored Lia’s protest.

“I’m going to pull the fucking trigger if you don’t pull over now.”

“No you won’t,” he said.  “If you do that, we’re all meat on the highway.”

Something about his phrase sounded familiar—like I had heard someone else use the same words or something close to them anyway.  The whole thing was off—a real cab driver wouldn’t be reacting this way with a gun in his face.  This guy had been in a similar position before.

He knew Lia’s name.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked.

“Who me?  I could be anybody.”  The dude smirked as he glanced sideways at me.  “And if you don’t get that piece out of my face, I’m going to ram this car into the fucking barrier.”

I wasn’t going to give him that chance.

I fired.

The driver slumped forward on the wheel.

The car began to turn wildly to the left.

Lia screamed.

With my hands against the side of the bucket seat, I hauled myself into the front and grabbed the wheel.  My legs were still behind me—trapped between the front and back sections of the car—but I at least had my hands on the wheel.  I tried to get it straightened out, but we were heading into the fast lane of traffic and skidding at the same time.  I didn’t want to overcompensate and flip the car.

With the unlikely cabbie’s body sliding into me and trying to push me right off the steering wheel altogether and Lia screaming in the backseat, I tightened my grip on the wheel and managed to ease it to the right just enough to stop the sliding.  We were still heading straight toward another car, though, and I couldn’t get my feet out of the back to bring the rest of my body into the front seat to hit the brake.

“Lia!  Shut up and grab my foot!”

“What?”  There was so much panic in her voice, and I needed her to calm down before we crashed.

The car in front of us swerved into another lane and we whizzed by.

“My foot is stuck,” I said with as much calm as I could.  “Get it unstuck.”

I felt her hands wrap around my boot and give my ankle a painful twist.

“Ow!  Shit!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Just get it out!”

A twist in the other direction still hurt, but my foot popped free, and I pulled it over the center console and pushed it between the dead man’s legs to get to the brake.  I had to kick his leg out of the way but finally felt the pedal against the bottom of my boot.

As I sat in his lap, I managed to slow us down and get over to the side of the expressway with only a handful of horns honking at us.  I didn’t have time for any other bullshit, so I just opened the door, shoved the body out the driver’s side, and sped off again.

Lia was practically hysterical.

“Calm down, baby.”

“I-I-I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” I corrected softly.  “We’re okay now.”

“You killed the cab driver!”

“He wasn’t a fucking cab driver.”

“What?”

“Just...just hang on for a bit, okay?  I need to ditch this car.”

I pulled off the expressway, onto a side road, and down a narrow street.  It was lined with buildings containing boarded up windows, which was as good a place as any to stop.

“Hold on to Odin,” I instructed.  “I’ll get the shit out of the trunk.  We’ll have to walk a ways and get another cab.”

“Evan, there’s blood all over you.”

“I know.”  I found the trunk release under the steering wheel, ran around to the back of the car, and opened up one of the bags inside.  I pulled out a T-shirt to wipe the blood and tissue off of my face, neck, and arm.  “Did I get it all?”

Lia looked at me with her lip tucked behind her teeth.

“There’s some on your shirt,” she said.

I tore it off, tossed it into the car, not giving a shit about evidence at this point—it’s not like I was going to spend time wiping the car for prints—and dug out another shirt.  As I was pulling it on, Lia bent over at the waist and puked near the back tire as Odin whined and paced about on his leash.

“You okay?” I asked when she was done.  I gave her one of her own shirts to wipe her mouth and hands and took Odin’s leash from her.

“No,” she said in a voice I could barely hear.  “I’m not sure I will be.”

I looked up and down the street.  We needed to get away from the blood-filled car as quickly as possible, and I couldn’t accomplish that with Lia freaking out on me.

“Just relax, baby,” I said, hoping that would help.

It didn’t.

“Relax?  How can you fucking say that?”

At least it got her angry instead of scared.  I could work with that.

“You know the kind of shit I do,” I reminded her.

“Knowing it and seeing it aren’t the same thing,” she said.

I couldn’t argue with her on that one.  Instead, I pulled her close to me and whispered against her ear.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, baby—so sorry.  It was the only thing I could do to keep him from killing you.”

“Killing me?”

There was no point in hiding the truth any longer.  I pulled her closer to my chest and pressed my lips to her hair.

“My former boss, Rinaldo, knows I’ve hooked up with Greco.  He’s taking it out on you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he put a contract out on you.  He’s offering fifteen grand to the person who kills you.”

She tensed in my arms, and her body shuddered.  I knew she was crying even though I couldn’t see her face.  I tightened my hold on her and then pulled back to lead her down the street.  She didn’t resist though I couldn’t get her to go at a pace I considered quick enough.  Odin was also skittish but followed me obediently.

We walked about a dozen blocks before I called another cab company– one I hadn’t used before—from a payphone.  This time, the driver was an Indian guy wearing a flannel shirt that looked like it came right off the George Lucas line but no dark glasses or hat.

He drove us south where we got another cab up north.  A few more similar trips and one bribed bus driver to allow Odin to ride later, we were at a small house in a crappy neighborhood.

“Whose house is this?” Lia asked as we went in.

“Mine,” I replied.  “I bought it a few years ago because I needed a place to lie low every once in a while.”

“Like now?”

“Exactly.”

“You have a bunch of places like this, don’t you?  Just like the cabin in Arizona.”

“Yes.”

“How long will we stay here?”

“Not long,” I told her.  “I don’t think this place could be traced back to me, but you never know, and people are looking for you.”

Lia shuddered again.  She looked like she was about to collapse, so I brought her into the bedroom and quickly found some clean sheets to put on the mattress.  I didn’t even remove her clothes—just hauled her into bed and held her against my chest.

“I don’t know if I can handle all of this,” Lia admitted.  Her arms came up around my neck.

I closed my eyes and touched my forehead to hers.

“That’s why I left,” I whispered.  “I know leaving that note and no explanation was a shit thing to do, but I didn’t want you to be exposed to all this.”

I pulled her closer to me, wanting to feel like I could protect her with just the proximity of my body and knowing at the same time that it wouldn’t work.  I couldn’t protect her mind that way or erase what she’d seen.  She was everything I needed, and I was fucking poison to her.  I’d known it since the beginning, but I’d been too selfish to push her away.

“You’re perfect for me,” I said, “and I’m just…just bad for you.”

Lia reached up and placed her hand against the side of my face as she shook her head slowly.

“You aren’t,” she said.  “This situation is bad, but you’re not.”

“Right,” I scoffed.  “I just killed someone right in front of you.”

Lia flinched, and I immediately felt bad for being so blunt.

“You’re warm,” she said as her body pressed against mine, “and you’re so smart.  You’re gentle, and strong, and handsome.  You’re compassionate and self-sacrificing.”

I shook my head and started to correct her, but she shushed me and stroked over my jaw with her fingers.  I’d been far too preoccupied to shave, and I could hear the slight scratching sound as her fingertips rubbed against the stubble on my face as she continued.

“You went overseas to serve in the best way you could.  You led people in battle.  You were willing to give up your life for someone you didn’t even know.  You stayed strong in your heart, no matter what they did to your body, and never gave them any information even though it might have been easier on you if you had.”

I blinked a couple of times.  I hadn’t really thought about those years in any way other than the negative, and I wasn’t sure how to react to her words.

“You are perceptive,” she continued.  “You always know exactly what I want and need.  You’re loyal and brave.  You have endured so much—far more than any one person should ever have to face—but you kept going.”

“I didn’t endure it,” I replied.  “I cracked.  I totally lost it.”

“Everyone has their breaking point, Evan.  That’s not bad; that’s just being human.”