C.J. Miller – Hiding His Witness (страница 9)
They drove for an hour, the radio playing an endless stream of songs. Carey focused on the lyrics, anything not to think about Mark hunting her. Reilly finally broke the silence between them. “I need to stop and get some coffee.” He turned the car onto the off ramp of the interstate.
“I could drive for a while if you want,” Carey said. He looked tired and she wondered when he’d last slept.
He raised his eyebrow. “Do you have a driver’s license?”
“No.” She’d had a driver’s license and a nice car, but those things were a part of the past. Carey Smith had neither.
“Then, no, you can’t drive.” His voice was tinted with amusement.
They drove into a gas station and he pulled into one of the parking spaces next to the minimart. Only one other car was parked, another filling up their tank at the gas pump.
Reilly turned off the ignition. “You want anything to eat?”
“Sure. I could go for some food.”
He’d grabbed a box of crackers from his house before they’d left and she’d eaten most of them. She mentally calculated how much money she had and figured she could spare a dollar or two from the emergency cash jammed in her duffel bag.
They went inside, Reilly threading through the aisles of snack foods and traveler conveniences to the coffee bar. Carey kept her head down as she followed after him. The store was mostly empty, but she didn’t want to chance anyone recognizing her.
The coffee smelled as if it had been sitting since the morning, brown stains burnt to the side of the glass pots. Reilly didn’t seem to mind and he snatched a gallon-sized jug from the line of cups and filled it, adding sugar and cream. He gestured around the store. “Get anything you want. We have another seven hours on the road.”
Carey’s stomach growled and she took Reilly’s advice, picking up a bag of pretzels and a bag of gummy worms. Reilly added a few items to their order, including some shrink-wrapped subs with wilted lettuce. He insisted on paying. They gathered their stash and returned to the car.
“Thank you for this,” she said, gesturing to the food in her lap.
“It’s nothing.”
But it was something to her. No one had bought her anything in the last year. Not a birthday present. Not a greeting card. Her throat grew tight. His kindness touched her deeply. He’d think she was overreacting, so she turned her attention to the window.
He pulled to the filling station and got out to pump his gas. Carey tore into her gummy worms.
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