Free The Past Between Us by Kimberly Van Meter

She’d broken no law with Isaac but she had used him for information. Her cheeks burned at the private admission. She’d tried to warn him—in her own way. She’d never actually said, Isaac, don’t fall in love with me because I’m only using you for your connections, but she had told him that she wasn’t the marrying type. Perhaps she should’ve found another way. Another sigh escaped her and she tightened her grip on her pack. There’d been no other way. But when things were returned to normal she swore to apologize to Isaac, to explain. Just as she would explain to everyone she’d crossed paths with under a false identity. And yes, she knew there were many who deserved a profuse apology at the least.
    But that wasn’t today.
    Cassi paid the taxi driver and ascended the stairs of the three-story building. It stood sentinel on the street, imposing its shadow and wearing its age like a distinguished gentleman. It was a shame she wasn’t here to admire the architecture.
    Perhaps one of these days…

    T HOMAS FOUND THE MOTEL EASILY . The greasy clerk—a man who looked as if he wouldn’t bat an eye at renting out a room by the hour—gave up the room key the minute Thomas flashed the badge. Not that he expected anything to the contrary. He found most people who didn’t want too much attention on themselves were more than happy to direct that attention elsewhere.
    “I run a legitimate business here,” the clerk called out, the higher pitch of his tone betraying his nerves. “I ain’t harboring no fugitives. That’s a fact.”
    “Thanks for your help,” Thomas said in a low growl. Then added, “If I find you tipped her off in any way, I’ll see that this place is crawling with feds before you can get out of town. If there’s even a hair out of place on your record, I’ll ream you for it.”
    The clerk gulped and made a gesture of zipping his lips.
    “That’s what I thought.”
    Thomas let himself into the room and locked it again behind him. He did a quick search to ensure she wasn’t there and when he was satisfied he was quite alone in the cramped, unattractive, and only marginally clean room, he took a seat and prepared to wait.

    I T WAS DARK AND BITTER COLD by the time she returned to the motel. The chocolate-brown woolen scarf wound around her neck did little to stop the cold from seeping into her bones. Her fingers were nearly numb—the thin gloves weren’t sufficient for the kind of windchill cutting around the buildings—and all she could focus on was getting the key in the lock and escaping the freezing snow that was about to fall any minute.
    She closed the door behind her and flexed her frozen fingers as she tossed the key to the small table barely illuminated by the glow peeping around the closed drapes and fumbled with the light switch. Weak, watery light bathed the room and she turned, nearly swallowing her tongue at the sight of Tommy sitting on her bed, his gun pointing straight at her heart. Aunt Jemima pancakes! She startled and flattened herself against the door, her hand instinctively going for the knob, but at Tommy’s hardened stare she didn’t even try to turn it and slowly dropped her hand.
    “I give you props for ingenuity but demerits for dumping my car and making me file a stolen vehicle report. Nice color, by the way,” he said, referencing her new brunette style. “What? Did you get tired of blond jokes?”
    “Who doesn’t get tired of those,” she countered, her mind working so fast her thoughts were beginning to blur. “I thought a change was in order.”
    “Especially since your face and physical characteristics were going to be plastered on every precinct wall on the eastern seaboard.”
    She offered him a small smile. “Well, there was that. Sorry about the car. I couldn’t very well hang on to it. All government vehicles are equipped with GPS tracking devices,” she managed to retort with a modicum of calm that she certainly didn’t feel. Tommy was