Peyton groaned and stood.
“Bend your head over the tub so I can wash that crap out. Once we get to L.A., you’re gonna have to live life even more low-profile than you do now until we make you a new life and figure out the rest.” Shay carefully hosed off the sides of the tub, watching the red globs dissolve in the water. “That might take a while.”
“And what I am supposed to do all day? Just sit around on my hands?”
“For now, you can put that research and IT brain of yours to use helping me out.”
“Doing what? I thought you were out of the business.”
Shay nodded, standing back and looking around for anything that would get a maid to call the cops. Not a good idea. “Out of the killing business. Now I have a new job. Field archaeologist.”
Peyton blinked. “Huh? You’re an academic now? Do they let you near students?”
The woman heaved a pained sigh and rubbed her temples. “We don’t need to go into this right now. I’ll explain later.”
Peyton stepped out of the tub, holding up his hands. “Okay, I’m still processing everything else, whatever. I still don’t know if I should be grateful or scared.”
Shay grinned. “Both. For now, let’s finish cleaning you up and take a ride.”
Chapter Two
“Where we going?” Peyton slipped into the passenger seat of the Porsche.
“I know after I died, I was really hungry.” Shay started up the car as it let out a soft growl. “I figured we would get some food.” She pulled out of the hotel parking lot. “There’s a place about a half hour away in Union City. Great pizza, some of the best I’ve ever had, and that includes in NYC. Hell, we’re practically already to the Lincoln Tunnel as it is. It’ll be a straight shot.”
Peyton’s stomach rumbled at the mention of the food. “Sounds good. I was going to go get some dinner before some crazed woman kidnapped me.”
Shay smirked. “Pizza’s okay, though, not too low-brow for you there, Mr. Coolidge?” She spoke the name in a faux English accent.
“Hey, I’m a blue-collar worker, how can I not like pizza? I’m all about pizza and Mountain Dew. Come on. Have you seen what I’m wearing?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” Shay eyed his black T-shirt and pants decorated with red whales. “That’s about the least blue-collar outfit I’ve seen. It’s more like a wanted poster to get bitch slapped by someone.” Shay narrowly missed a delivery man on a bike as he swerved in front of her. He turned and gave her the finger, smiling broadly at her. Shay gave him a friendly wave as she pulled closer to his back wheel, nudging him along. He jerked his head around and startled, banging into another car.
There, that’s better than flipping them off.
“Just because you like pizza and Mountain Dew doesn’t make you blue collar, Peyton.”
He frowned. “What do you think I am then, if I’m not blue-collar? I work for a living, just like you.”
“You don’t have your name sewed on your shirt and you don’t smell like grease of any kind. You’re a white-collar worker, Peyton.” Shay shrugged. “You’re a zeros and ones guy when you slice it down to the essence. That’s classic white collar. I don’t know where you got the idea that you’re some sort of blue-collar guy.”
“Easy. Where I come from, if you don’t own the company, then you’re blue collar.” He frowned and looked away.
Shay motioned to his clothes. “Your look is more like latent preppie on the lam with more than a heavy seasoning of hipster. Little unique for someone with your IT skills, and again, not blue collar.”
“What? Hipster? Where’s my man bun then? And I like the red whales on the pants. It’s all retro and cool.”
“This your idea of running from your family and your background? Just like playing at being an information broker?”
Peyton’s face darkened. “I just like the look, okay? Whales are endangered.”
“Not little red embroidered ones. Okay, fair enough. I can’t help it if you want to blind people with those abominations. Just be careful who you’re pointing them at.”
His expression didn’t brighten at her joke.
Shay didn’t try and fill the tense silence. Whether or not Peyton was running from his family before, he had a damned good reason to stay away from them now.
One major lesson kept Shay alive throughout the years, and that was an understanding that a person should never underestimate the greed and ruthlessness of anyone.
Yeah, Peyton, that includes me.
The field archaeologist pulled the Porsche into the parking lot of Gino’s By the Slice, her mouth already watering at the idea of downing some pepperoni pizza.
“Okay, let’s go grab some pizza,” Shay said.
“We’re stopping to eat?” Peyton sighed and turned in his seat to look at her. “I thought we were just going to grab something at a drive-through.”
Shay shook her head. “Gino’s doesn’t have a drive-through.”
“Let me get this straight. You kidnap me—"
The woman cut him off with a snort. “Let’s get one thing straight. This was a rescue, not a kidnapping.”
“Felt more like a kidnapping.”
“Well, it’s a rescue now. It was executed as a kidnapping. Whatever, the words aren’t important.”
A defiant look settled over Peyton’s face.
Don’t do this now.
Shay sighed. “You’re free to stroll back to your apartment if you want. I mean, I wouldn’t advise it because there will probably be six fucking guys there ready to fill your body with bullets. But sure, you know, if you really have a hard-on for dying, knock yourself out.”
“Angry White Bitch is coming back, I see.”
“And Clueless never left.”
“What I was trying to get at is that you killed me, and now we’re going to have pizza in New Jersey? I thought you wanted to make a clean getaway. What if some drone flies by and gets my picture or something?”
Shay reached into her pocket and pulled out a small layered silver disc.
Peyton leaned over, his eyes narrowing. “Is that
