Hot Pursuit, CH08 (Patreon)

“This is a bad idea,” Tristan says, well, growls from within the hoodie he’s wearing as we walk among the other people. Emil’s between us beaming so hard I’m worried that’s going to set off fire alarms in the building around us. He’s been trying to get us to have an outing as a family ever since we’ve hit the road, but being wanted by all the law enforcement agencies, as well as what feels like all the bounty hunters in the country made that hard to do, especially with Tristan’s hyper careful mindset.

But after this attack? “Look. We did the hiding in the wilderness thing, and it’s not exactly working at this point. This gives us a chance to test the water with being among society again.” I’m also under a hoodie, but I’m not wearing it as gloomily as my husband.

“This is asking for our face to be seen on one of the city cameras or on someone’s cell phone.”

“First, unless they post our face directly to their social sites, nothing’s going to happen. This idea that the government can just look at us through people’s phones is science fiction, and since you’ve never seen one of those in your life, I’m going to call it the work of your paranoia.”

“And second?” he asks, since I don’t continue. I’m not going to just volunteer that one. It’s a lot more effective when it’s in response to his question.

“Look at the happiness on our son’s face and tell me that’s not worth a little risk.”

The sigh is an act. He cares too much about Emil’s happiness to be annoyed at him. “If we are careless, this could compromise his ability to move freely among other people, Alex.”

I grin in his direction; not that he sees it. “Then let’s not be careless.” And I swear I can see the roll of the eyes through the hoodie.

“It’s going to be great,” Emil says. I can hear the smile. “You’re going to love the movie. There are cars, explosions, a lot of fights, and it’s all about family.”

Oh, not snorting is hard on that one. Emil’s heart is in the right place, but I can see Tristan tearing the physics, not to say mechanical aspects, to shred. Those movies stopped making sense after the third one.

The van’s still in the woods. That I’m not stupid enough to say we can park it in one of the lot and not have it attract attention. It’s bigger than a full size camper, and their previous owners barely tried to make it look like one. I called Emil before I started digging the grave and he was back to pick us up in a car not long after the last shovelful of earth was on top of the bodies in it.

It’s back where Emil took it from. We’ll borrow a different one to go back.

As the theater comes into view, Tristan’s body language shifts. I have no idea what he’s going for, but I’ve learned to tell when he takes on a role. The change is subtle; he isn’t turning his head as much, and his steps are lighter. Less fighter ready to take on everyone and more… I don’t know, man on the town with his family?

He steps forward to the ticket counter as soon as we enter, taking out a worn wallet. “Three tickets to see—” And he freezes. Not hesitates, turns into a statue and I realize Emil never told him the name of the movie we’re seeing when he steps to the window.

“We’re seeing the latests Fast and Furious movie.” He’s bouncing in place like that’s the greatest thing on Earth.

Maybe it’s because she’s tired, or she’s just not as attentive as me, but the girl on the other side of the glass just nods and gives the price of the tickets. Tristan moves again as if the time frozen was him skipping a few seconds ahead.

Inside the theater proper, he takes my hand as I reach for my hood. “Cameras,” he whispers, before pulling me close to him.

I roll my eyes. “It’s an internal system. I checked, and this theater doesn’t have their camera feeds connected to the internet. It’s safe.”

“Unless one of the city cameras got enough of our faces to have someone come looking to confirm it was us. You said we wouldn’t be careless.”

I so want to call this his paranoia speaking again, but he has a point. As wanted as we are, the government will act on the smallest piece of information that can be corroborated. So I still wear, arm in arm, it as we get in line for the concession stand. 

“We’re going to have,” Tristan says, his head tilting up to look at the selection, and he freezes again.

Okay, this can’t be because he doesn’t know what to order. You go to a movie and you always order—

“We’re going to have three large popcorns,” Emil says. “One without salt or butter. My pa has to watch his sodium and fat intakes.” And the asshole had the galls to nod in my direction, as if I’m the one obsessed with healthy…

Oh, that’s the problem. Shit, if Tristan’s withdrawal is bad enough, he can’t stick to the role of father and husband enough to order a bag of popcorn. He needs his fix bad.

“I’m going to have a large coffee,” I add after Emil’s addition of water and a coke. “In that insulated mug.” Of course, I noticed they had a coffee machine with mugs next to it with what looked like a jungle on them. No movies playing with that, so it’s either something from a while back they got stock with, or something upcoming. Based on the dust, I’m going with old.

I am that observant.

Then we are in the darkened theater with the pre-show on the screen. I guess the franchise is still going strong because there are a lot more people in here than I expected. Nearly half full. We follow Tristan to the back, and we’re the only ones there. I guess it isn’t the make out spot it used to be.

Or not the movie that lends itself to couples making out.

The lights go down as we sit. Tristan is between me and Emil, and before he can stop me, I pull his hood down. I see the glare by the light of the previous for some space movie reflecting on them. I silently dare him to come up with a reason why I can’t look at his handsome profile when the movie gets boring.

Instead, he lifts the armrest between us and pulls me to him.

I have no idea what the upcoming movies are. I’m just enjoying his arm over my shoulders, the coffee mug in one hand and his thigh of steel in my other one.

They the theater goes darker and the movie starts and…

Look, if you’ve seen any of them after the third one, you know exactly how this goes. Car chases, cars being modded, explosions, laughable attempts at fake hacking, and something getting stolen. And that’s in the first ten minutes.

The one thing that’s wrong with any of that, if the lack of response from Tristan. Even I can tell that what they’re doing to the cars makes no sense, or that even with some explosion happening under it at the right moment, there is no way it can make that jump, but not one snort from him.

The reason’s clear when I see that he isn’t looking at the screen, but at the other people seated below us. Of course, he’s in guardian mode. What did I think was going to happen. That he’d actually be able to just relax and enjoy an utterly stupid movie? I rest my head against his shoulder and enjoy him, my coffee, and try to enjoy the movie.

* * * * *

I have no idea how much time passed when my bladder reminds me it exists. All I know is that my mug’s been empty for a while—the coffee wasn’t as horrible as I expected—and that somehow, they’re on a plane now and…there a baby involved? When did a baby come in to play? Did I sleep through that?

“Bathroom,” I whisper in Tristan’s ear, before giving him a peck on the neck. Emil’s engrossed in the movie, a broad smile on his face. Oh, the joys of being easily amused.

I make my way out of the seats and into the restroom. Emptying my bladder is a joy in and of itself. With it shaken and zipped back in, I turn to wash my hands when there is one around my neck and I’m shoved into a stall.

I have my gun in my assailant’s side before who he is registers. “Are you fucking insane?” I ask Tristan in a whisper, and the smile he answers me with puts his sanity in question, too.

Then, I further question it, although not the facts he’d undoing my pants. I almost stop him, considering there are voices outside the stall—Guys taking care of their business—but then he has his hand on my stiff cock and…well…thinking is no longer what I care about.

I undo his pants and grab his thick cock, stroking it until it’s hard.

“Take off a shoe,” he whispers, then makes the act impossible by biting my earlobe. When I regain enough coordination to work my feet, I pull it out of its casing. Then he’s pushing my pants down.

Okay, I can’t actually believe he’s doing this. Mister, I will put security before anything else is actually about to engage in public sex with people around? But you have got to be more insane than him if you think I’m putting a stop to it. I help out by raising my leg, so the pant drops off, and the other falls below the knee from the weight of the gun in the holster.

“Left inside jacket pocket,” he whispers. And I pull the bottle of lube. Okay, you might think he’s planned this little session ahead of time, but that’s just because you don’t know my man all that well. He’s always prepared for a good time, that it be sex or a shootout.

I lube his cock and get him to shudder in the process. Then he growls, grabs my ass with both hands and hikes me up before shoving me down on his cock hard enough the lube does little, and I bite in his shoulder to keep from screaming in pleasure.

He doesn’t rest once he hits bottom; he pulls out and slams back in. When I’m able to let go of his shoulder, I’m panting hard from the fucking he’s giving me. The things he’s growling in my ear are playing quite the part in getting me close to cumming. All the ways he’d going to hurt me. All the ways he can kill me right now, while he’s fucking me. After, when I think I’m safe. Then he slams his cock in hard and bites my shoulder. I return the favor because unlike him. I’m not able to stay silent without something in my mouth when orgasm hits me.

We are like that for nowhere near long enough. Then he licks the bite, which, knowing him, is bleeding. When he moves enough, I can look him in the eyes. There’s a wildness there that’s far too common recently. I mean, it’s pretty much always there when he lets himself go loose on me like this, but usually he puts that back in its box as soon as we’re done. Now, I can almost see the effort it takes him to force it away.

I wish he’d admit he has a problem so we could work on it. As much as I love being manhandled like this, it’s going to be a problem at some point.

I clean as much of the cum on our stomach with my finger and share it with him. At least that’s one thing he doesn’t refuse because it’s not his precious pemmican. Then we remain like this until the restroom falls silent. He pulls out and we clean up as best as we can before I pull my pants up. We freeze as someone enters.

“All clear,” Emil says. He’s at the urinal and joins us at the sink while we wash our hands

“I enjoyed this outing,” Tristan says and Emil snorts.

“Next time you can pick the movie,” he says. “But I’m sitting between the two of you.”

I so want to comment on that. You have no idea how tempting it is. But I don’t. It’s one thing teasing him about his sex life with girls, but I don’t even want to hint about him with guys, considering what was done to him.

“I don’t think I’m a movie person,” Tristan says. “What do you say to a museum?”

“Boring,” I reply, then quickly add. “But if it’s with the two of you, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to enjoy one of us.” Emil hands me a wide medical pad and I curse as the bite mark bleeds again.

“Detroit had an automotive museum,” Tristan says. “We can go there after the stop at my locker.”

“Isn’t that in the middle of a city?” I point out.

“We’ll just have to be careful,” he replies, pulling his hood over his head.