Brain(43)

I was still playing around with ways I could plausibly put Harmony on a horse farm, though.

Brain was waiting for me in the lobby, and he handed me a key card as we walked to the elevator. “So you can come and go as you please. How was your day?”

“Exhausting, even though we only sat around and talked most of the day. How was yours?”

“Great, since I knew I’d see you this evening. There’s a workout room in the hotel, if you need to burn some energy off.”

He wasn’t touching me, and I wanted a hug. I’d gone years not allowing my boyfriends to hug me, insisting I hug them first, and now I was mentally bitching because Brain was keeping his hands to himself.

“If no one’s in the indoor pool, I think I’d rather swim laps.”

He waited until we were in his suite to tell me, “I’m hacked into the hotel’s security, we can see how crowded the pool is from here. Also, I have my car, and I wouldn’t be opposed to heading to Piedmont Park for a run, there’s a nice four mile loop trail.”

“That’s perfect, though I’m certain you can run eight miles in the time it’ll take me to run four.” The only way I’d been able to outrun him had been by taking turns into tight places, where I could fit and he had to stop to figure out how to get through.

Now, finally, he bent down and brushed his lips across my forehead. “I didn’t spend the day talking to a woman under a death sentence. I don’t mind running at your pace, whatever it is. You can change in the bedroom, I’ll take the bathroom.”

Damn, was I really doing this? Spending time with him, giving him a chance? It appeared I was.

The park was awesome, and a four mile run was exactly what I needed. I requested we stop for shakes at The Varsity on the way back, and he indulged me with a smile.

I’d worn a ballcap while we ran, and I swapped it out for sunglasses when we got back in his car. As we pulled out of The Varsity, he asked, “You’re sure the minor changes will be enough to keep facial recognition from picking you up?”

I nodded. “Yeah. The surgeon gave me mock ups of how my face will look, and I also played around with some images, based on what he says he’s doing.” I looked out the window and considered how much to tell him. He needed to know the danger, what we were up against if I was recognized. “Twice now, I’ve tested cams to see if they’re still looking for me.”

“Kind of a risk, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I needed to know, and I planned it carefully.”

He glanced at me, back at the road. “Tell me?”

This was a test, and we both knew it. How many of my secrets was I willing to tell him? He already knew a good bit about how I operated, as he’d learned me pretty well when he chased me down.

I took a breath and started the story. “The first time was a few blocks from Times Square, and I planned it to the minute. I walked through wearing a red and white dress, a wig with nearly black shoulder length hair, red heels, with my face showing. I went into a theater and to a bathroom I knew didn’t have a camera on the door, and changed into a black dress with low black heels. My small purse had barely held the black dress and shoes. It was reversible, so I flipped it inside out, turning it from white to black, and put the red dress and heels in, then crammed the wig into the shoes. My short hair was dyed blonde at the time, and I’d gelled it to look stylish, but formal, which meant my hair color and length changed. I went from bright red lipstick to pale pink, put some heavy designer glasses on, and made my way through the theater and out the side door, to a restaurant across the street where I was supposed to meet someone for dinner.”

I paused, wondering how much of this next part to tell him. It didn’t put me in a good light, wouldn’t make me good girlfriend material. Did I want to run him away, or did I want to hold onto him a few more weeks? I didn’t know, but decided to give him the truth and let the chips fall where they may.

“I watched government agents arrive and scour the place. We had tickets for a different theater later, then we spent the night at his apartment, and he drove us to Connecticut to a lovely bed and breakfast the next day. Everything in his name, of course. We had a nice day and evening on vacation, and I told him I was going for a run the next morning.”

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the next part, as I knew it hadn’t been nice, but then, the person I’d turned into wasn’t especially nice. “I stole a motorcycle, rode twenty miles back towards New York, and stopped to call him and tell him I’d had a nice time with him, but we just weren’t going to work out. I told him I was headed back home on my own, hung up, destroyed the phone, and then drove to another large city, went to a mall, bought some shit, changed clothes, with layers so I could easily strip down and look different, took three busses to the airport, rented a car, and drove several hundred miles to another city with a storage unit with my stuff. I turned the car in, took a few busses to my storage unit, got on my motorcycle, and made my way to Chicago.”