Freedom Part III

“I don’t need any help,” he protested. 

“Come on, you know they tore you up rather badly,” she retorted. “Look, it’ll be someone in our side, ok? Trust me.” 

“Easier said than done,” he said with a dark smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

She felt a sting of pain at his words, for there was a time when they had been at odds; untrusting and suspicious of one another. 

Her eyes did not wander from the road. “That’s all over now.”

“Of course,” he said, looking down at the floor of the car, wincing at the drops of his blood dotting the upholstery. “So who is this person who’ll help?” He gestured to the wounds in his arms, legs, torso. 

“You’ll see.” Her voice was cryptic as they continued on the coastal highway. 

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