Wednesday Words: Don’t Tax Yourself

Another Wednesday, another set of words. Gosh, it’s April 15th. Tax day. Obviously, the word prompts had to jump on the bandwagon. 😆 Today’s snippet contains new words. About Rudy. As part of the bridge between BRIDE’S MOON and ROGUE MOON. A lot happened to Rudy between his rescue from that Bosnian castle in BLOOD MOON and the events in ROGUE MOON–13 years worth of things. Do y’all ever wonder where I sometimes get ideas? Well, this scene started out with only 250 words from one writing prompt. Then I added 437 more words using today’s #1lineWed prompt. You never know what inspires. I’ll take whatever I can get! In the meantime, this snippet is fairly self-explanatory.
****
The voice on the cell phone faded in and out. As a Wolf, Rudy didn’t have to strain to hear it. Male. Faint trace of an accent. Not really a twang, or nasal, nor a drawl, more…mid-Atlantic. Interesting. He had a good ear for both accents and voices. This one didn’t sound familiar. And that concerned him. He’d been off the grid for ten years. This anonymous caller should not have been able to track him. This morning? He found a bag at his hotel door—a burner cell phone that rang as soon as he opened the package. He answered without speaking.

“I know who you are. Why you do what you do.” The sound of heavy breathing, like the caller had been running. “Things are going south.”

As much as he wanted to ask questions, Rudy remained silent. Was that statement a euphemism? Or a statement of fact? Odd this call would come now, when he was relocating.

“You need to watch your back. People are looking for you.”

What else was new? He made mental check marks on the list he carried in his head. Assassins. Several intelligence agencies. The American military. Those were just the ones off the top.

“I’ll do what I can to muddy your trail. But just a word to the wise? Go north. Or west. Or Australia.”

Rudy held his tongue until the phone clicked in his ear and the hum of silence replaced the open connection. He disassembled the phone, crushing the guts of it, and flushing that part down the toilet. The case would be discarded a piece at a time at highway speed once he hit the road. He really wanted a shower but doubted he had time. Opening a zippered pocket of his backpack, he pulled out the wad of cash—all untaxable and untraceable. He rifled the stack of bills and did a quick calculation of the amount. It was enough to get him to his next stash. It had to be.

Pulling on jeans, he shoved his feet into motorcycle boots and stomped down to seat them. Money shoved in the pocket and belt buckled, he snagged a black T-shirt and jerked it on over his head. Time to go.

He’d learned in his years on the run there were only two things that were inevitable for a man like him. Taxes didn’t make the list. Getting caught and getting dead? Totally did. Packed, he grabbed a wet towel from the bathroom and wiped down every surface in the room. He also stripped the bed and grabbed the towels, rolling them into a bundle.

Check out the window, he watched and waited. A Wolf, he was a patient hunter. Minutes ticked by. He picked up the sound of the hotel maid knocking a couple of doors down. Nothing moved in the parking lot or in the buildings across the way. Time to go. He slipped out and dumped his laundry in the maid’s cart. After trotting down the stairs, he stopped and waited again. A few travelers came out of their rooms and either walked to office or jumped into their vehicles and took off.

Deciding the coast was clear, he strolled to his car, tossed his duffel into the back seat and his backpack into the front passenger seat. Settling in the driver’s seat, he buckled up, backed out and drove away. A few miles away, he pulled into the drive-thru at a fast food place. While waiting in line to pick up his order, he pulled a map from the glove box, spread it out, and with his eyes closed, stabbed his index finger onto it.

Opening his eyes, he studied the spot pinpointed by his finger. And smiled.

New Orleans. It appeared that things were, indeed, going south.
****
And that’s how Rudy ended up in New Orleans. Where, in a few years time, he’ll be reunited the Wolves of the 69th and meet the woman guaranteed to make him moonstruck. 😉 What about y’all? Got any taxing words to share? Have you finished your taxes? We have an extension here in the States but Lawyer Guy got them in last weekend so we’re all good. Happy Hump Day. Keep writing and/or reading. Just remember, hiding in a book is a great way to social distance. 😉

About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of several award-winning series--Moonstruck, Nightriders MC, The Penumbra Papers, and Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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2 Responses to Wednesday Words: Don’t Tax Yourself

  1. Oooooo, love Rudy. As for taxes… don’t love those, but I got them done middle of last month while I was waiting to hear Owl had been picked up from her dorm and shuttled north to Mom’s. Yeah, I figured I was already stressed to the max, so why not add taxes to the mix?

    No words to offer up today. I feel like I’m getting closer to being able to look at my own words again. Everything got so derailed and I’m standing here looking at all the train cars scattered all over the place, their loads dumped into the ditch, wondering how I’ll get them all back on the tracks again. Thank goodness it wasn’t a passenger train, eh? ;o)

    • Silver James says:

      Yeah…I totally get that train wreck scenario. That’s the way I felt when I opened up that old MS. I’ve actually been working on cleaning it up. And now I’m wondering if it SHOULD see the light of day. 😆 Still love the story and the characters but man…thank goodness my writing “matured” in the last 20 years. Still…might be fun as a compare and contrast. 🙄

      Glad Owl got sorted, your life is…not normalizing so much as…settling. You’ll find your writing mojo one of these days. You’ll be out walking and will stub your toe on it. 😉 Until then, do what you do to get through. That’s all any of us can do. ❤

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