“Well, that’s all of them,” Katie said, brushing her hands together once, twice.
They stood outside The Knowing Palm, a small building that supposedly housed one of the greatest male psychics ever to live. Ever to live in a delusional world of his own creation, mayhap. Birds soared high above him, circling and searching for food. The hot sun beat down. A soft wind danced about, carrying a gentle scent, like flowers and rain that reminded him of Katie.
“We’ve wasted our morning in one shop or another.” Katie shielded her eyes with her hand. “We’ve got work to do, so let’s head over to the Victorian. I’ll put together another list tonight. The Internet is sure to have more names, and we can visit one or two over the weekend. If they’re not too far,” she added.
He paid her speech no heed. “We have been to six places, katya, yet there were seven left on your list.”
Her gaze flicked away guiltily. “We’re not going to the seventh.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll take us four hours to get there and four hours to get back.”
“So?”
“So, that’s hell on the butt, and I’m not doing it.”
“I shall massage away any discomfort you acquire.”
She crossed her hands over her chest. “I have to work in order to live, Jorlan, because when I work, I make money and that money pays for my food and shelter. I’ve gotten behind since you entered my life. I’m not making that drive.”
He simply stared at her.
She bared her teeth in a scowl. “Contrary to what you might think, I do not speak to hear my own voice. I said we could visit more places over the weekend, and we will.”
“I do not wish to wait. I will take your transportation and drive myself.”
“No. No. No!” Katie fisted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. She wasn’t giving in on this and that was final. No way in hell did she want to take an eight-hour road trip. They’d been in and out of the car all morning, and besides that, she really did have to work.
But that isn’t why you don’t want to go. The truth danced within her mind, and Katie stiffened. She hadn’t wanted to visit any psychics today. And she more specifically didn’t want to visit this next one, not because of work or a sore butt, but because she feared success. If they found someone who could take Jorlan home, he’d leave her sooner rather than later.
Didn’t he realize that she wanted him to stay here with her a while longer?
No, he didn’t realize, because he was moving toward her with intent shining in his eyes. She backed up. He continued to advance. Then he was on her. Surprisingly, he didn’t haul her into the truck, and demand she drive him to Lubbock. He simply reached inside her beige short pockets—an innocent touch that caused fireworks to explode between her legs because it was the first touch he’d given her in three days, the jerk—and pulled out the truck ignition key.
Her body screamed find more keys! But she could tell by the irritated look etching Jorlan’s face that assaulting her person, pleasurably or otherwise, was not his intent. He turned away. “I will visit this location, and then I will return to you.”
In a flash she pictured him stranded on some isolated road, or worse, a populated town demanding everyone obey his every command. Someone would take offense, there would be a fight, Jorlan would win (he had a spatula, after all) and the other person would die. Then Jorlan would be hauled away to jail, where he would await trial. The government would find out that he was from another planet and all hell would break loose.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Katie raced behind him, swiped out her foot and tripped him. He crashed onto the hard ground, falling like a condemned home. She moved quickly, rushing to his hands and snatching the key. When she tried to dart out of reach, he latched on to her ankle. The next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her stomach and trying to suck in air.
Jorlan flipped her over, pried the key from her Kung Fu grip and smiled.
Smiled!
She used her hands to push herself upright and watched him practically skip to the truck.
“Wait!” She jolted after him, spitting gravel along the way. She latched on to his arm. “Let’s compromise about this.”
“I have been a warrior my entire life. I know nothing of compromise.”
With those ominous words ringing in her ears, he shook off her hold and strode to the driver’s side door of her truck. She hopped in front of the vehicle, arms splayed wide. “You compromised about the weapons, didn’t you? You compromised about sleeping on my floor instead of my bed.” She expected him to pick her up and carry her to the side of the road, effectively moving her out of his way.
He didn’t. He remained beside the open door. “If you are concerned about so long a drive,” he said, his tone deceptively soft, “we will not come back until the new dawning.”
“No. Absolutely not. I’ve lost enough time because of you.”
“Then I will see you later.” He settled himself inside the cab.
“You don’t know which way to go.” Ha! That should stop him.
The corners of his lips rose in another smug smile. “You have used this map all these many days.” He held up the booklet in question. “Think you I cannot do the same?”
“You don’t know the names of the highways, and you can’t read my language. Besides that, I’ll turn you in to the police for stealing my car.”
He sighed. “Much do I regret the use of force, katya.”
His eyes were darkened, and she paused. “You haven’t used any force,” she said cautiously.
“But I am going to.”
Before she had time to blink, he was out of the car and closing the distance between them. With only minimal protest on her part, he scooped her up into his arms. She could have struggled or fought him harder, but she didn’t want to hurt him. Without a word, he dumped her into the passenger seat and settled himself behind the wheel.
“Now you will go with me,” he said confidently.
Katie made a grab for the key. He easily evaded her, then shoved the jagged metal into the ignition and started pushing pedals. Jerk. Stop. Jerk. Stop. A cold sweat broke over her, and she scooted to his side, trying to take control of the wheel.
He held fast.
If she saw one car, even one, headed toward them, she was going to shove Jorlan out the driver-side door—no matter how many injuries he would sustain. Or, maybe she’d press his carotid artery until he passed out. For now, they were alone on the road and she had time to gently make him rethink this.
“You’re giving me whiplash,” she shouted.
Unconcerned by her supposed pain, he continued on.
“Do you want to kill us both? If you keep this up, you’re going to. And you’re going to ruin my truck! This trip is ridiculous. We don’t even have a change of clothes. We’ll have to come back tonight and then my butt will really hurt and you’ll be sorry because I’ll take it out on you. I have too much work to do on the house. I’m on the clock, you big jackass, and you’re going to pay me for my time.”
“Are you trying to make me wish I’d cut off my ears and left them behind?” he growled, still not sparing her a glance.
“Yes!”
He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had long since turned white. The truck inched along the road, doing no more than five miles per hour.
“I could walk faster than this, grandpa.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and the beleaguered expression on his face was almost comical. “You will clamp your lips together, katya, or I will do it for you.”