“I OWN A small townhouse on the outskirts of the city.” Marissa pointed to a street on the map that lay in front of them. “We can use it. Gerry and I will stay here and get weapons and ammo while you two go in and scope out Matthews’s old residence. Once you get a good feel for the place, you can get us good vantage points for our rifles. I have a contact who can get us what we need weapon-wise, no questions, but he won’t sell if we all go.”
“You two will need to keep out of sight,” Gerry warned. “That beard makes you fairly unrecognizable, Harley, but Norah, someone could spot you easily.”
“I’ve got something that might help you with that.” Marissa tossed her a bottle of hair dye. “Told you, I helped those who were trying to hide,” she explained at Gerry’s interested glance.
Norah eyed the hair dye warily. She loved her brown hair, and the color dye Marissa had handed her would take her from chestnut to black. She took a deep breath. Gerry was right. Harley would be able to blend in, but she would be spotted easily. She nodded. She had to make sure they weren’t caught, and if that meant a different hair color, temporarily, she added to herself, then that’s what she would do.
“Okay.”
“We will gather the weapons and meet you in two days at the house,” Gerry said, standing up. “I say we get started on this tomorrow?” he asked, and reached for Marissa.
Harley took a look at Norah. “Tomorrow’s good.”
They were on each other before they reached the stairs.
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU think’s going to happen?” Norah wondered, twirling a strand of her now black hair.
“I think we are going to win.”
She laughed. “That’s optimistic.”
“I’m learning to look on the bright side,” he said easily, although his insides were in knots. How was he going to keep her safe when they were about to enter a world where everyone knew her? “Was there anyone on the inside that hated Clayton? Anyone who acted as if they wanted him dead?”
“Why?”
“Just curious if we might have a way in.”
“But he’s dead. It’s best to assume that anyone who might have hated him then would be gone now.”
“Possibly, but Tom may have kept them around in the event they would be useful.” He wondered if that was what he had been to Tom. Useful.
“I still can’t believe how dirty that bastard is.” Harley leaned back and put one arm behind his head.
“I’m sorry, Harley,” Norah said softly, and kissed the inside of his bicep.
“I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” he said as he watched her sit up and prop her head on one hand.
Damn, she was amazing. Her dark hair was even darker now, and fell like a curtain over her propped arm. Her already plump lips were still swollen from his. Even now, he wanted her. He wished that there was a way they could crawl into a hole and never come out.
“You don’t need to apologize,” she said, running her fingers over the light coating of hair on his chest. She leaned forward and placed a kiss over his heart.
“We could disappear.”
“What do you mean?”
“We could just leave, right now. Get fake passports and head for the nearest beach. Spend our lives sipping margaritas with our toes in the sand.”
“Are you asking me to spend my life with you, Mr. Andrews?” She straddled him and grinned widely.
“We may not survive this, Norah,” he said seriously, avoiding her question. “Don’t you want a long life?”
She stared down at him. In the short time she had known him, he had become the most important person in her life. How was she supposed to tell him that she couldn’t just walk away? That she couldn’t let them continue to ruin the innocent lives they were tearing apart?
“Why don’t we just focus on today?” she said, and leaned forward to kiss him. His strong arms came around her and he deepened the kiss.
Norah pulled away and looked into Harley’s storm-colored eyes. Damn, she loved him.
* * *
THE RAIN OUTSIDE was doing nothing to help Harley’s grim mood as he loaded down the car the next morning. He looked over to the porch where Norah was telling Gerry and Marissa goodbye.
Harley couldn’t help but feel as if everything was about to go horribly wrong.
“We need to get going,” Harley said, and held his hand out for Norah.
“You stay safe, darling,” Marissa said, and pulled her in for a hug. “Keep that man in check; they all need a strong woman to watch out for them,” she whispered into her ear, and Norah smiled.
“I will. We will see you guys soon.”
“Two days,” Gerry said, hugging her. “If we aren’t there in two days, you two get the hell out of there and go find someplace to lay low.”
“Thanks, Gerry.” Harley shook his hand. “We’ll see you in two days,” he said, reiterating it to let Gerry know there was just no other option. If he believed everything was going to go as planned, then it would. He looked at Norah. He had to believe it would. There was more at stake now than ever before.
Harley held the door open for Norah and shut it gently after she had climbed in. The grey Chevy Traverse would keep them from sticking out while they drove. Harley hoped that the dark hair dye Norah wore and his lengthening beard was enough to not get recognized.
“I like the hair,” Harley noted as they pulled out of the drive. “I can’t remember if I told you or not.”
Norah pulled a few of the strands in her hand and twirled it. “Thanks. This is the first time I’ve ever colored my hair.”
“You would look beautiful with any hair color.”
She beamed at him, making him wonder how often she had actually been complimented before. He was certainly going to have to throw more her way to make up for it.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he drove through the rain.
“Good—wonderful, actually.” She laughed lightly. “How about you?”
“Amazing.” He smiled and reached over to turn on the radio.
“Oh, I love this song!” Norah squealed when Ed Sheeran’s A-Team came on.
Harley listened as she sang. Just the sound of her singing had the blood pounding in his veins. Would he ever get to a point where he didn’t crave her? He found himself hoping he wouldn’t and praying that she would always feel the same.
“Sorry.” Norah laughed and turned the radio down slightly.
“Why?” Harley glanced at her and then reached for the stereo. “You have a gorgeous voice, Norah, don’t be sorry for that. Sing.” He cranked the volume up again and grinned when she began singing again.
Harley let himself push the thoughts of tomorrow out of his head, and for a few minutes pretended as if it were only them in the world. As if they weren’t walking into what could very possibly be their deaths.
“So,” Norah said, turning the radio off. “What is your favorite color?”
“My favorite color?”
“Yes, mine’s yellow.”
“Yellow?”
“It’s sunny, bright, a happy color.”
Harley smiled. The color fit her. “Mine’s blue.”
“A great color.” She beamed at him. “What about your favorite band?”