Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

through my plate before he asked the question.
    "Who are you running from, Jason?"
    When I finished telling my story about an hour later, Rhys just stared at me for a good thirty seconds. "Wow. You don't do anything by halves do you?"
    I shook my head. "The thing is, I have no idea how they found me. I thought I covered my tracks pretty damn well."
    "You may never know. Maybe they have a mole in the FBI. Maybe there was a security camera at the post office in Socorro and they tracked you through Air. Maybe both. Maybe a million other things." He took a deep breath. "We need a plan."
    "I'm all ears. My plan ended with get far away and give the FBI my evidence. That plan has obviously failed." A wave of despair, cold and heavy, passed over me. I just wanted a normal life with a normal job and a normal boyfriend, without people trying to kill me.
    I'd reached the end of my rope. I let my head drop to the table with a thunk. Before I knew it, Rhys had come around the table, pulled me out of my chair and wrapped his arms around me. It was so completely unexpected that I tensed in his arms for a brief moment before I let myself fall into him. One strong arm cradled my head to his shoulder and the other wove gently around my torso. I took a shuddering breath as a deep sense of safety sank into me. I hadn't realized how truly scared I was until the lack of it stole my breath away.
    Before I knew they were there or could do anything to stop them, tears started streaming down my face, soaking the shoulder of Rhys' white T-shirt. It was such a relief. I hadn't cried like that since my parents had died in a car crash seven years ago, during my junior year of college. Rhys crooned sweet nothings in my ear until I had calmed down again.
    Once I was done being overwhelmed, it just felt awkward being hugged by an almost complete stranger and I tensed up again. He let me go and gave me a moment to wipe my face and collect myself.
    "Don't worry. Everybody has a breaking point. Doesn't matter that you break as long you pick yourself up after. Come on. We've got some planning to do."
    And just like that I felt normal again.
    A few hours of talking and arguing later, we decided that the best plan was to call a friend of his in the FBI. Apparently the now-Agent Geoffrey Kortig and Rhys had served together during his stint in the army and he could be trusted with anything. Once that was decided, it was another few hours of discussing to decide what exactly to tell him and how.
    Rhys would head back into town tomorrow to pick up his truck, grab a new cell phone and collect supplies. After which we would call Agent Kortig.
    ****
    After a long boring day of waiting for Rhys to return, I was extremely glad to see the cloud of dust on the road that presaged the arrival of his truck. Despite the fact that my leg was feeling much better he would not let me help him unload the motorcycle on which he had ridden into town from the back of the truck. He gave me a stay put glare and rather than start an argument I stayed where I was.
    Once he had unpacked all the supplies from the truck and brought them inside– again I was not allowed to help– he handed me a phone. While Rhys was putting all the groceries away, I called Air's home phone and left a message to let him know I was safe. I could have called his cell or the office line, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to lie convincingly enough if I were talking directly to him. So I took the coward's way out.
    After everything was put away, we sat down at the table together. Rhys pulled out his phone and pressed one of his speed dial numbers. As the phone was ringing, he pushed the speaker button and put it on the table between us.
    "Rhys, my man. How're you doin'?"
    "Hey Geoff. I've got a bit of a situation I could use your help on."
    "Sure thing. What can I do you for?"
    "I've got a friend here on speaker phone and I want you to listen to what he has to say."
    Rhys nodded at me and I started talking– telling my story again. It was slightly edited and definitely more streamlined but it still took a good twenty minutes to get through the whole thing. When I finished talking, Geoff had turned completely professional, all traces of the bluff army buddy gone. He said he'd look into the situation and give us a call back in a few days. In the meantime, we were to lay low.
    Later that night, as Rhys and I were sitting on the porch drinking beer, I realized that I knew almost nothing about my rescuer,