Sun shone strong once again on the Australian dryland the second day of their escape. Brit was driving, and she let her worries float away with the warm breeze. The sunshine felt good on her face - she had grown up in the North East, in America, and it had been cold - very cold - far too often for her taste. So even though she was worried about this insanely risky venture she had taken, and the tension between her and Brendan was as thick as a muggy Australian summer, she pushed it all to the back of her mind.
Brendan was quiet in the passenger seat beside her, and that was fine with her. For now. The memory of his fingertips on her skin and the way he felt inside of her infused her mind and she felt a rush of heat in her belly. Too good. Despite his attempted escape from her, she knew him, she knew the look in his eyes, and she knew he felt the same as she did. The desire to feel that with him again, and for as long as possible, was heavy but she had a feeling it wouldn't be an easy path.
As they approached the next small town, Brit glanced at her phone, checking the time. Still too early to stop for the night, but maybe they should fill up the tank or grab a bite to eat.
As they passed the highway sign, Brendan sat up a little straighter, staring it down.
"Kempsey?" he asked.
"Yeah, 5 kilometers," she answered, glancing at him.
His face hardened. "I know a bloke there," he grumbled. "He runs a shit hole pawn shop and he owes me a lot of money." Brendan looked to her, a glint of fire lighting his eyes. "What do you say we stop in and pay him a visit?"
"Brendan...I don't think -"
"I want my money." He glared at her. "We're stopping."
Brit nodded warily, pulling into the next lane so she could take the exit.
"We'll stake the place out and hit him in the middle of the night. He won't call the cops. He's dirtier than I am." Brendan flashed her a wide grin.
"Why do I doubt that…" Brit grumbled, but her mouth quirked. She couldn't help but be happy to see Brendan smile.
Following Brendan's directions, Brit pulled up across the street from an old, run down building with a dingy yellow sign saying 'Tom's Pawn Shop' over the door. The sun was just setting, dusk fading fast so the sunlight between the buildings was dim. She parked the car under a tree, where there were no street lamps to shine on them when they came on.
"This it?" she asked, leaning forward to peer across the street.
"That's Tommy's place alright. There he is." Brendan pointed toward the wide window by the door. Brit could see a man through the dirty glass, thin and wiry with stringy hair that fell into his eyes as he leaned over the counter helping a customer.
"You sure about this, Lynch?"
"We'll wait till he closes."
There was no arguing with his tone. Brit gave an inward sigh and leaned back again, ready to wait. Shops like this stayed open late into the night, so they would probably have a lot of time to kill.
The two of them sat in the car silently for more than an hour, watching the door and what they could see through the window. Only one other person came in, the sketchiest looking bloke Brit had ever seen with what could only be described as a bag of loot, obviously stolen merchandise. So it was that kind of pawn shop...Brendan had been right. This Tommy was probably as dirty as they came.
When the 'customer' left and no one else was around, Brit jumped out of the car to grab them a couple of burgers and shakes. She still wasn't a fan of this unplanned stop, but Brendan had a glint in his eye that she couldn't help but be pleased about. It was a nice break from the brooding he'd been doing all day and it made her belly warm with tempting thoughts.
After they finished their meal, Brit checked the clock realizing they would still have at least two hours, if not more. As a detective, she was no stranger to stake-outs but she had thought she left that life behind.
"What now?" she murmured, glancing at Brendan.
He checked his watch, then returned his gaze to the shop door. "We wait."
"Might be a while," she said, shifting a little closer, shooting him a coy smile. "We could...hop in the back, kill some time? That's an awfully nice looking backseat…"
Brendan chuckled, breaking into a grin, and the sight made her stomach flip-flop. "Tempting...but I have a feeling you're just trying to distract me."
Brit shrugged, smiling back at him. "Would that be so bad?"
He reached out as if he might lay his hand on her thigh, but stopped himself before he could, dropping his hand on the stick shift instead. "It's not a good idea." His smile fell away. "We agreed."
Brit turned away quickly to look out the window, his rejection stinging even though she knew he wanted her. Fuck it all.
But she knew this was like a job for him, it wasn't personal. When he was working he thought of absolutely nothing else. And he was right...but Brit was tired of playing by the rules. It had never brought anything but heartache. She gave a deep sigh, adjusting her seat back and settling in to wait. Damn the stubborn bastard.
They waited for nearly two hours before the lights next to the door of Tommy's shop shut off. Brendan sat up, suddenly fully alert, his eyes gleaming.
"Time to go."
The bell over the door rang as Brendan opened the door to the shop. "Sorry, but we're closed for the day," the owner shouted.
"I'm sure you can keep it open a few more minutes for an old mate, Tommy," Brendan said with a casual voice, walking straight towards the guy.
Tommy's head emerged quickly from behind the counter and he stared at Brendan with surprise. "Ehm…hey Brendan...ehm...watcha doing out here?"
"Me and a mate of mine are travelling the entire down under, and hokus pokus we end up here," Brendan stopped a few meters from him and looked around the shop. "Nice shop you got here, by the way."
"Ehm...thanks...so...ehm...what can I help you with?"
Brendan turned to look at Brit. "If you need help finding something, now might be the time to ask."
"Nah, I'm good," Brit said and walked over to a wall where a few old classical guitars were hanging.
"Alright. But I could use some help," Brendan said, facing Tommy once again and walked closer to the counter. Once he was near enough, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "You, my good old mate Tommy, can help get me the money you owe me. When was that? Ages ago."
Shock could be clearly seen on Tommy's face. "Ehm...what money Brendan?"
"Don't try to fuck with me, Tommy. You know what I'm talking about."
Tommy stood up and shifted. "I...ehm...really don't know what you are talking about at all."
"No? Maybe this will help your memory a bit."
Before Tommy could dodge, a fist landed on his face, knocking him right on the floor. Then Brendan vaulted over the counter to punch him again, however, Tommy was quicker this time, and crawled away before Brendan could reach him.
"Get back here, fucker. Your memory needs another wake-up call."
"No thanks, mate, I'm good," Tommy said, standing up and starting to walk backwards slowly.
"Then where is my fucking money, Tommy?"
"Ehm...I-I'll get it," Tommy stammered, reaching for something behind him. "It is...right here!" Suddenly a golf club appeared out of thin air, however, before it could land anywhere, someone stopped it mid-air.
"I don't think that's the kind of money Brendan wants, even though I'm sure the golf club is expensive," Brit's voice was sarcastic as she snatched the club out of Tommy's hand.
Tommy turned his head quickly towards Brit, then back to Brendan and back to Brit. "Fuck…"
Brendan smirked at Tommy's utterly shocked expression. That's my girl. Then he landed a punch to Tommy's stomach, which caused him to go down on his knees, gasping for breath. Brendan sat on squat. "I'm gonna ask you one more fucking time, you sneaky bastard, where-is-my-fucking-money?!"
At the same time, Brit tapped him slightly on his head with the golf club. "You better just tell him before this gets worse. You know how Brendan gets when he wants something…"
"The-the money i-is in the back of th-the shop, in a-a safe," Tommy stuttered.
"Good lad! Was it that hard?"
Tommy shook his head and held his hands around his stomach, using them as a shield just in case another punch appeared.
"And what is the combination?"
"5...1...6...2...0"
Brendan stood. "Keep an eye on him while I get the money," he said to Brit and vaulted over the counter heading to the backside of the shop.
Moments later, Brendan appeared with a black travel bag over his shoulder. He walked over to where Brit and Tommy were, dropped the bag on the floor, making Tommy jump, and crouched down again. "One more thing before we leave. Look at me, bastard."
Tommy lifted his head slowly and looked directly into Brendan's eyes.
"I hope you aren't stupid enough to call the cops, mate. If you do, they are going to search your shop, which I think you want to avoid because of all the illegal shit you have in store here."
At first, Tommy didn't say anything, then he nodded. Brendan got up and tossed the bag over his shoulder. "Happy doing business with you, Tommy," he said with a cheerful voice. He exchanged a pleased look with Brit, who tossed the golf club to hit Tommy in the chest then went for the door.
When they made it back to the car, neither her or Brendan had any thought beyond getting out of there and doing it fast even though it was nearly 1am. He may not call the police to his shop but that wouldn't stop him from making an anonymous tip. If he was smart enough to figure that out. They wouldn't wait around to see. Together they decided to keep driving on through the next day, taking turns resting while the other drove.
The next day they stopped late in the afternoon but the motel they found to stay at had nothing left but a room with one bed. The joy from his newly reaquired money faded too soon and Brendan had been his normal brooding self most the day. Brit felt unsure about her footing. Despite their fairly successful encounter, the memory of his rejection lingered. He was happy about the money but more than anything she was sure that he still hated the fact that he had no other option than to be with her. Even if he didn't mind the general idea of working with her, it was the lack of freedom that would bother him. He was still a prisoner, just in a different way.
A low sigh escaped him when he closed the door and glanced toward the single bed.
"Hey, it's not so bad," she quipped, her voice light. "I won't bite."
"I meant what I said before," he replied after a moment. "We shouldn't get involved," but his voice was soft, not harsh, and it was a relief.
"Fine by me." The words felt like ash in her mouth but she knew he was probably right.
The tension between them that night, however, proved difficult for both of them to manage. After the stress of the past 36 hours, nothing would be better than a mutually satisfying way to relieve it but she couldn't let herself ask again.
Lying next to him, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and she almost fell off the bed once trying to get as far away from him as possible to keep from jumping him. She knew he must be exhausted as well, but he seemed no better off, tossing and turning and keeping her awake half the night. She knew then that he wanted her as much she wanted him. They snipped at each other, half playing, half frustrated beyond belief but neither of them seemed willing to give in. Brit was so tired from the tension and the sexual frustration and the night before she decided they could afford to sleep in an extra hour.
But sooner or later, something was going to have to give.
an: Thank you so much for reading, much more on the way. Please leave a review and a kudos if you have time, even a few words mean the world to us :)