The Assignment

Chapter 11

The long drive back to Boston was overall quiet. Joey rarely said anything, and when he did, I rarely responded. It was downright awkward.

I hadn't been able to get his apology off my mind. He seemed to really regret the way he'd chosen to help me. Sure, there were probably several better options than the route we'd taken, but he'd kept me protected, for the most part, and I thought that made it okay. Well, okay enough. I definitely didn't feel like a princess saved by a knight in shining armor, but I felt safe. Or at least I did until we crossed the Massachusetts state line.

Anxiety arose inside my body. My hands started to shake and though it was warm in the car, a chill crept up my spine. I began to realize just how wrong I'd been about wanting to go home. I no longer was anxious to see Boston. Or my coworkers. Or UMass. Or my apartment. I wanted to tell Joey to turn the car around and speed in the opposite direction. I didn't want to be in Boston. I didn't want to be in Massachusetts at all!

It was like intentionally walking into the lion's den. I started imagining all the horrible things that could happen once Richard Lux and his minions found out we were back in town. No doubt, they'd find out. There were ways. I didn't know what the hell those ways were, but anyone with mafia ties could probably find out anything they wanted. I didn't want to stick around to get shot or kidnapped or worse.

It was taking all my self-control not to beg Joey to turn around. I knew it was unrealistic, because he couldn't just ignore his job. The police department was surely beyond pissed already, and it was ridiculous on my part to entertain the idea of Joey not going back to work like he intended to. It was equally as stupid for me to be so thoroughly considering not tending to my own responsibilities.

An exit taking us south, away from Boston caught my attention and the anxiety pumping through my veins seemed to steady itself.

"Where are we going?" I piped up.

Joey yawned, turning the wheel and tugging at his shirt collar. "We're going to spend a night in Westfield. Tomorrow morning I'm going to take you to a range and teach you how to shoot. Then we'll go back to Boston."

Take me to a range? Teach me to shoot a gun? What? the voice in my head freaked out.

I didn't know the first thing about shooting a gun and I wasn't so sure I wanted to learn any time soon. It was scary enough knowing there were men with guns chasing us, but I didn't want to think about my untrained hands pulling a trigger. What if I screwed up and accidentally hurt somebody?

"Joey, I don't know if that's such a great idea."

My eyes widened as I spoke, imagining how disastrously his plans could go. I was not at all confident with a firearm, and with as much stress as I was under, this wasn't the best time to try to teach me.

He sighed, running his fingers through his silky dark hair. A warm feeling crept up my body despite my obvious concern. I wanted to do that. I missed the feeling of his soft hair between my fingers.

"You'll be fine," he said in a tone that ended the conversation.

I didn't try to argue. I wasn't so sure I'd be fine, though.

I didn't sign up for this. I didn't want to have to learn how to operate a weapon under pressure. I'd planned to take shooting lessons someday, but I wasn't looking to do it any time soon. As a young woman living alone, I'd been thinking for a while that it would probably be a good idea to invest in a pistol for my own protection, but I wasn't anxious to carry out that plan.

We reached a small bed and breakfast on the edge of Westfield and Joey got us a room for the night. I was surprised when he asked for a room with only one bed. Sure, we'd slept together and had sex, but the way he'd acted towards me since then had given off the impression that he wasn't really interested in me anymore - assuming he truly had been before we got intimate.