Trinity Rising

“Absolutely, but he won’t get it,” I said and slid onto the couch. It took me close to an hour to book ten separate flights ranging from as early as the following week out of Boston to the latest from Louisiana next month. The only flights that didn’t have connections in the U.S. originated out of Boston, the rest of the flights had connections in O’Hare, Dulles or Atlanta.

 

When I finished, I cracked my knuckles and stretched my fingers before switching gears. I sent a note to the museum curator informing him that I had a dozen more vehicles coming the following week, including pieces from ancient Greece and Rome. The response came in less than five minutes after I hit send, and I swear the man must have been close to a fucking orgasm with how much he gushed.

 

I sent a note back saying the vehicles needed some engine work because they had been sitting for the majority of the last five years, and he assured me that they would be attended to when they arrived.

 

Next, I arranged for transportation of everything except my Aston-Martin; that would go wherever we went. The next couple of days would be busy loading vehicles and when I was done with the arrangements, I turned the computer to Naomi.

 

“Your turn. You need to start looking for a place for us to stay,” I said and stood up. “I’m going to make sure I have everything I need to finish up the Aston Martin and hide it from view.”

 

“Do I have a budget?” she asked as she pulled the computer onto her lap.

 

“Find a lease for now.”

 

Disappointment transitioned her mouth into a pouty frown and I turned, leaving her to the task. I found my way through the underground tunnel and stood in the center of the garage looking at the contents. The dozen vehicles, including the ornate chariots would be gone by the end of the following day and the rest of the things needed to be cleared out before we left. The Aston-Martin didn’t have a great deal of storage space, so anything I wanted to come with us had to be compact.

 

I slid into the seat and turned the ignition key. The car jumped to life, purring like she should. All the work I had done over the past month had gotten her into shape and there wasn’t anything I could think of that she needed. Even the tires had been replaced. I shut the car off and popped the trunk. I packed a toolbox with the wrench set and all the custom sockets I had for the different engine parts. When I had everything I needed for future servicing, I closed the lid and placed the toolbox in the trunk along with the extra oil filters and spark plugs for the car.

 

I cleared a space in the far right corner, and pulled the car as close to the wall as I dared before putting a fitted cover over the vehicle. Then I moved boxes, old tires and a couple of the rolling tool chests I had around the car, hiding it from view and giving us the room to maneuver the rest of the vehicles.

 

I stepped back, scanning the area. It needed more and I glanced at the ruined truck. Once I found the key, I yanked on the driver’s door, but it didn’t budge, so I climbed up on the bent foot rail and hauled myself through the empty window.

 

Despite my skepticism, the truck started and I moved it so it blocked the box barricade. I exited the way I entered and walked around to the belly of the garage. The mangled form did a better job blocking the Aston Martin than the boxes and tool chests. Now it just looked like a normal garage storage space along with a truck that needed serious bodywork.

 

Satisfied, I wiped my hands on my jeans and headed back to the house.

 

“York,” Naomi said when I entered the living room.

 

I raised an eyebrow. “I told you New York is not an option.”

 

“No, York, Maine. It’s a beach community and I found a couple of rentals that would be perfect and they aren’t outrageous.”

 

She spun the computer toward me and I scanned the list of available year-round rentals. They weren’t bad and a few of the home rentals were downright beautiful. “Where is York?” I asked, hoping she’d say as far north as possible.

 

“It’s like fifteen minutes from Portsmouth, New Hampshire.”

 

I met her gaze and she wet her lips with her tongue and flashed that pleading smile that made it impossible to say no. Fuck it. I tapped the more expensive of the two condo rentals. “See if that’s still available.”

 

She picked up the phone and I crossed into the kitchen to figure out something for dinner. We hadn’t had much today and I was starting to get that lightheaded feeling that comes with forgetting to eat. Instead of opting for some heavy Greek dish, I went simple and opened a can of tomato soup.

 

Naomi stepped into the kitchen behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. Just the feel of her made my heart flutter, despite the day from hell, and I turned my head, catching a quick kiss over my shoulder.

 

“Do you want grilled cheese with this?”

 

She glanced at the stove and nodded. “I’ll probably only have grilled cheese.”

 

“Keeping it light?”

 

“Yeah, my stomach is still a bit unsettled and not eating today didn’t help.”

 

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