Crude Intentions

Chapter 20: The Off-Grid Switch

Theo didn’t wait for his uncle to finish his sentence. He reached out, his massive fist connecting directly with the center of the high-tech dashboard screen. The glass shattered with a sharp, explosive c***k, fracturing Richard’s smug face into a dozen jagged shards before the monitor went completely black, cutting off the audio with a pathetic hiss of static.

"Theodore!" Charlie gasped, though a wild, reckless surge of adrenaline kicked her pulse into overdrive.

"I'm done listening to him," Theo growled, his breathing heavy and ragged as he threw the SUV into reverse.

Before his boot could hit the accelerator, a distant, high-pitched wail cut through the morning air. Sirens. Two blocks away, heading straight for the courthouse square. Richard hadn't been bluffing. The Texas State Highway Patrol was already closing the perimeter.

"Theo, stop!" Charlie yelled, her hand slamming flat against his chest to hold him back. The hard muscle beneath his gray t-shirt was rigid, his heart hammering like a trapped war drum. "If you drive this Escalade out of the parking lot, they’ll pin you at the intersection. The highway troopers know every inch of the main road, and this truck has a giant corporate bullseye painted on its roof."

Theo snapped his head around to look at her, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, volatile desperation. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his long fingers digging into her skin, pulling her so close across the center console that her lips were inches from his.

"I am not letting them put you in a cell, Charlie," Theo whispered, his voice a rough, gravelly rasp that vibrated right through her bones. "I don't care about the asset. I care about getting you out of this town before my family ruins your name."

"Then trust your Head of Land," Charlie fired back, her dry sarcasm cracking like a whip against the panic in the cab. She wrenched herself from his grip, grabbed her leather work bag from the floorboard, and popped her door open. "Ditch the keys on the floor. We're running."

"Running where?" Theo demanded, vaulting out of the driver's side as the wail of the sirens grew deafeningly loud, reflecting off the old stone buildings of the square.

"To the custom shop," Charlie shouted over the noise, pointing toward a narrow, brick-lined alleyway behind the Goliad bank. "My new truck has been sitting in the bay at Javi’s Auto Body for three weeks getting a suspension lift and a heavy-duty winch installed. Javi owes me a massive favor because I cleared a title defect on his mother’s commercial lot last winter. Follow me!"

They sprinted down the narrow alleyway, the humid morning air burning Charlie’s lungs. Behind them, the screech of tires echoed across the courthouse square as two white-and-black state trooper cruisers pulled directly into the bank lot, their red-and-blue lights flashing violently against the brick walls.

Theo ran right beside her, his massive stride easily keeping pace despite his lack of proper athletic gear. As they burst out the back of the alley, a heavy, grease-scented garage bay loomed into view. Javi’s Auto Body.

Sitting right in the center bay, jacked up on a hydraulic lift, was a beast of a machine. It was a brand-new, midnight-black heavy-duty crew cab truck, its pristine custom paint job gleaming under the shop lights. The massive off-road tires were twice the size of the Escalade's, and a heavy-duty steel brush guard was bolted to the front bumper.

A burly mechanic in a grease-stained jumpsuit dropped his wrench as they burst into the shop. "Charlie? What the hell—"

"Javi, I need the keys to my truck right now," Charlie panted, slamming her hand flat against his tool chest. "No questions. Emergency field deployment."

Javi looked at Charlie’s flushed, intense face, then looked at the towering, mud-splattered billionaire standing right behind her like a lethal shadow. Outside, the sirens were circling the block, the troopers searching the immediate perimeter.

"Keys are in the ignition, Charlie," Javi said, pulling the hydraulic lever to lower the truck. "The alignment is done, and the tank is full of premium. Get out of here before the county sheriff blocks my grease trap."

"I owe you a steak dinner, Javi!" Charlie yelled, sprinting to the passenger side.

Theo didn't wait for an invitation. He vaulted into the driver's seat, his large hands automatically gripping the leather wheel of the brand-new truck. He slammed the keyless start button, and the massive V8 engine roared to life with a deep, throaty snarl that shook the metal rafters of the garage.

"Where's the exit?" Theo barked, his corporate mask completely melting into a rugged, adrenaline-fueled focus.

"Straight through the back garage door!" Charlie shouted, buckling her seatbelt as Javi hit the automated roller button. "It leads out onto the old rail line access trail. It’s unpaved, unmapped, and completely invisible from the highway!"

Theo slammed the shifter into drive and floored it.

The new truck launched out of the garage bay just as the metal door cleared the roof. They tore down the rocky, overgrown rail trail, the heavy-duty suspension smoothing out the impact as the massive off-road tires threw up a blinding screen of gray gravel and dirt behind them.

Within two minutes, the wail of the state trooper sirens began to fade into the distance, completely lost behind the dense wall of live oaks guarding the Goliad perimeter. Richard’s GPS tracking was useless now; they were completely off the corporate grid, driving a vehicle that didn't exist on Vance Energy's registry.

The quiet inside the cab of the new truck was suffocatingly hot. The air conditioning was blasting a freezing stream of air, but the raw, electric tension between them was boiling.

Theo drove with a brutal, flawless efficiency, one hand looping over the top of the steering wheel as he navigated the winding, unpaved backroads heading west toward the river ridge. He shifted his weight on the leather seat, turning his dark, hooded gaze toward Charlie. The sheer, untamed possessiveness burning in his eyes made her chest tighten with a sudden, dizzying rush of heat.

"9:58 AM," Theo murmured, his deep voice a rough rumble against the steady hum of the engine. He reached across the console, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair to pull her an inch closer to his side. "We’re clear of the troopers, Landman. Now tell me exactly how we're going to convince an off-grid wildcatter to hand us a million dollars in physical currency before the clock strikes twelve."

Charlie swallowed hard, her dry sarcasm completely melting under the intense heat of his touch. She leaned into his palm, her skin prickling with a dangerous, intoxicating warmth.

"Silas Thorne doesn't care about your corporate pedigree, Theo," she whispered, her eyes locking onto his sharp profile. "He only cares about one thing: a man who can look him in the eye and hold a contract with his bare hands. You’re about to find out if you’re as tough as the dirt you’re trying to buy."