Chasing Silver Read Online Free Page A

saw everything in only black or white. There wouldn’t be family, but hell, Kirsten had slaughtered that possibility when she attacked the safe house. For Remy, this was the break of a lifetime.
    She smoothed her composure, shedding the crippling anxiety for the swagger she was more accustomed to wearing. “Are we just going to sit here all night?” She sounded normal again. Thank god.
    “No, my ice cream is melting,” he said under his breath as he eased off the brake and rolled out of the parking lot.
    At the next red light, he spared a glance at her. “Fake ID. Precious coins. Maybe I was right about your desire to avoid the cops, huh?”
    Remy refused to back down. “I seem to remember hearing somebody tell me to get my ass in gear because he didn’t want to deal with the cops, either.” As she slipped the coins back into her pocket, it occurred to her she couldn’t afford to lose the lone ally she had. Nathan could still tow her off to the funny farm if he wanted. “So…are we good?”
    “I didn’t want to deal with the cops, because I’m armed, you’re injured, and they’d draw certain conclusions.” The streets darkened as they made their way farther from the freeway and deeper into the city, winding down side streets and rolling through empty intersections without stopping. “Yeah, we’re good. Your ID is almost cartoonish, which makes me think you’re no criminal mastermind. And what do I care about a handful of coins?”
    He turned into a gated driveway, except the gate was broken and all the lights were dark.
    He led her up a sidewalk path to a narrow set of concrete stairs. Walking honed her attention back on her injuries, but while it took every ounce of her strength, Remy made it to the second floor without stumbling. She even refrained from leaning against the wall when he paused to unlock a door. It wouldn’t last long, though. Her back was starting to spasm and her wrist to ache. Remy hoped he wouldn’t waste any time getting her fixed up.
    Nathan turned on the small apartment’s single overhead lamp and gestured toward the vintage couch, the only piece of furniture in the room. There was a small clunky monitor on a stand in the corner, but she didn’t see a keyboard near it, probably rolled up and put away. A bookshelf dominated the wall, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Antique books, the sort she used to read in the detention center’s library, lined the top three shelves. Glossy-covered magazines were stacked haphazardly on the next shelf, and her fingers itched to touch them, to see if they were as smooth as they looked. Beneath that were rows of thin, multi-colored boxes. They were too small to be more books. She supposed they could have been computer software of some sort, but they were larger than most computers, even the cheap ones. The other walls were bare, the floor uncluttered, and through a doorway, the kitchen counter was empty of everything except what could have been a microwave, except it was enormous. A short hall led to what must have been the bathroom and bedroom, and he disappeared into the dark corridor after telling her to make herself comfortable.
    When he returned, he carried a small plastic box, white with a red cross on the top, a large white T-shirt, and a bottle labeled “hydrogen peroxide.” Noticing she still stood in the middle of the room, Nathan nodded toward the couch again. “Lay down and take off your shirt.”
    Remy gave him her best smirk. “Kind of hard to get the shirt off once I’m already down.” Grabbing the hem, she whipped it over her head, ignoring the painful twinges in her back. It left her in cargoes, boots, and a tiny black bra barely covering her nipples. By the time she tossed the shirt aside, Nathan’s eyes were no longer on her face.
    She took her time crossing to the couch, enjoying the heavy weight of his gaze on her body. This was better. A known situation. Remy had had to spend too much of her life using her