Riding solo wasn’t near the thrill of having Tori’s arms wrapped around him and her softness cradling his ass. Besides, day-tripping in this hostile world was for idiots with a death wish. They needed to get off the fucking freeway and secure Tori and the vehicles somewhere safe for the day. In the last hour they’d passed a half-dozen farms that would’ve done the job. Natch, none of them met Gideon’s standards. His leader hadn’t bothered to open the mental link during the past five hours and he was the only one who could. The radical change from their standard operating procedure didn’t put Marcus in a happy place. Marcus had worried up a sweat by the time Gideon’s turn signal blinked in his right side mirror. What the fuck was the mech thinking? Marcus clamped his jaw and executed a three-sixty to follow the pickup and tanker down a gravel road. He ate dust for a few meters then zipped around the truck parade. A mile farther in, the lane looped into a driveway. Seconds ticked past while his head warped into a holo-suite historical tour.
