Free Lost and Found by Dallas Schulze Page A

eyes as she made another squealing turn that threatened to overturn them.
    "Look, don't get us killed. The idea is to avoid getting killed."
    "Don't worry. I took a stunt-driving course a couple of years ago."
    "Oh, great. Every bone in my body is broken. There's a car full of goons on our tail who'd like nothing better than to break a few more. And I'm stuck with someone who's had driving lessons from some suicidal maniac who tries to kill himself for a living. Just great. Look out! Didn't you see that car?"
    "I saw it. I didn't hit it, did I?" She appeared to feel that was answer enough. Sam shut his eyes again. There were times when it was best not to face danger head-on.
    The truck squealed around a corner, throwing him against the door. He swallowed a groan of pain, convinced that every breath was going to be his last. What did a few more bruises matter when he was going to die? Another quick turn and then they picked up speed. Sam opened his eyes, wondering if she'd speeded up because they were going the wrong way down a one-way street. From what he'd seen of her driving style so far, that seemed a likely explanation. They were on the highway. Wide open road stretched out in front of them.
    "Great place to hide. They'd never suspect us of leaving town." He hurt in too many places to put much sarcasm behind the words.
    Babs glanced in the rearview mirror. "I think I lost them a couple of turns ago. Besides, we couldn't dodge them in that little town forever."
    "True." Sam leaned back against the seat. She looked at him, her eyes dark with concern.
    "Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?"
    He shook his head and then wished he hadn't. It hurt to move. In fact, it hurt to breathe. "I don't need a doctor. Just get us someplace where I can lie down and I'll be fine."
    "You look awful."
    "Thank you." His tone closed the conversation.
    Babs drove in silence, watching the rearview mirror for any sign of pursuit, stealing glances at her silent companion. She didn't know if he'd fallen asleep, passed out or just didn't want to talk. Whichever it was, it left her with quite a few questions she didn't have answers for.
    What she really wanted to do was find a nice quiet corner and cry herself to sleep. Maybe when she woke up this whole thing would turn out to be an extended nightmare. Of course, if it was a nightmare, then Sam Delanian didn't exist. Glancing at his still figure, she discovered that she wanted him to exist. She didn't want to wake up and find that she'd dreamed him.
    She bit her lip, focusing her eyes on the road again. It was stress. That was what made him so oddly appealing. He'd saved her life and it was only natural that she would be grateful to him, but that's all it was. It had nothing to do with waking up in his arms this morning; or the way his eyes could laugh when the rest of his face was still; or the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin; or the thick lock of hair that was inclined to fall onto his forehead, filling her with an urge to push it back. She was grateful to him, that was all.
    It was almost noon when she drove into a town considerably larger than the one they'd left behind. She pulled into a motel, parking the truck in back of the building where it couldn't be seen from the street. Not that it had done them a whole lot of good the last time but it was a simple precaution.
    Sam roused when she shut off the engine, dragging himself into a more upright position and looking around, his eyes glazed with pain. "Where are we?"
    "I don't know. Some town a couple of hours away from the last one. I'm going to get us a room."
    "Okay." He caught her hand before she could slide out of the truck. "Be careful." His eyes held hers for a long steady moment. For some reason, Babs felt breathless. She nodded and slid out of the truck without speaking.
    Twenty minutes later she was back with a room key. When she opened the door of the truck, Sam didn't move and, for one awful instant, visions of fatal