Blowback (The Black Cipher Files Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

and started stripping.
    Everything came off. Jacket, jeans, sweater, bra, underwear, earrings, knife, even the transmitter ring got rolled into a bundle.
    I saved the syringe. I really wanted to hold onto the key fob/flash key but since I’d already uploaded the information to my storage account, it would have to go. I memorized the design; a silver inlay of a caduceus, a typical symbol representing doctors, set in black onyx.
    As Lucas cruised down the main street toward the highway, he rolled down the window. “My fantasies of you naked again weren’t quite so public,” he said conversationally as he tossed everything into the flowering bushes that divided the road.
    “Can’t go South.” Just in case he didn’t get it.
    “Going North.”
    Excellent.
    We shot up the ramp onto the highway.
    “The engine in this tin can can’t beat their souped up truck.”
    So much for forgettable. We were in deep sh–.
    “Shit. You sure know how to show a guy a good time. Are they going to catch us?”
    Ah-ha. Maybe this is the point where he ‘lets’ them catch me. And again they try to get me to ‘save’ him.
    I lifted my head above the seat, peering out the back window but the highway, full of pick up trucks and compact cars, was blessedly empty of dark blue Suburbans.
    “Have you got a weapon?”
    “Duffel bag,” he said. “Who are they and why do they want you so badly?”
    I ignored him. Besides, I had no idea.
    I rifled through the duffel and pulled out a 9mm Glock. It would come in handy. I placed it gently on the back seat.
    “I hate to ask...but do you have anything else to take off?” His gaze was glued to the rearview mirror.
    I snuck a glance out the back. I could see the SUV. Three quarters of a mile back. The gridlock would keep them there momentarily, but we didn’t have much time.
    “Nope.” I was stark naked.
    “Have you got an implant?”
    “Honey. These puppies are real.” But, shit marie, what if they had access to my implanted, government-issued tracking beacon? I set the Glock on the seat and rummaged through his bag again. “Nail scissors?”
    “Doc kit.”
    I pulled the small scissors out. “Get off at the next exit and turn around.”
    I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs while I probed the base of my hairline. Breathing through my nose, I felt for the tiny scar on the back of my neck.
    Gotcha. I split the tiny scissors open.
    This was going to hurt like hell.

FIVE
     
    With a clean slice, I opened up my skin.
    Warm blood trickled down my back as I dug with the tip of the scissors and fought not to pass out. Finally, I got the tiny chip in my slick fingers.
    I was right. It hurt like hell.
    “Roll down the window and toss this out at the bottom of the next exit.”
    I handed him the bloody lump of tissue and silicon.
    “Jesus, that’s disgusting.”
    Yes. It was.
    He sped down the ramp, launched the beacon out the window, and did a fast u-turn to get back on the highway going south again.
    I ran my fingers along the seams of his duffel looking for any kind of unusual bump or irregularity in the stitching. I didn’t think they were tracking him but it didn’t pay to overlook details.
    Satisfied, I rummaged through his duffel and found a sock. First, I rubbed at my blood-stained fingertips then jammed the cloth against the gouge in my neck.
    I grabbed a white t-shirt, soft from use and scented with bleach, and tugged it over my head. He didn’t have any extra pants. Only some boxers.
    There was something very intimate about wearing his underwear. “No tighty whiteys, huh?”
    “You already knew that.”
    I ignored the rush of heat, as the memory of peeling his boxers down muscled thighs, his erection hot and smooth in the palm of my hand, burned in my brain. I vaulted into the front seat and cranked down my window. The late afternoon breeze cooled the sweat from my face.
    Traffic on the two lane highway was heavy but cruising at sixty-five miles an hour. Factory workers, leaving