No Ordinary Day by Tate, Harley (life changing books txt) 📗

in what Emma took for irritation. She held up a hand. “Sorry. It’s not any of my business.” Keep him on your side, idiot. You need him. Annoying her sole source of transportation and security wasn’t a smart move. “Could we stop by my place before heading to Gloria’s?”

“What for?”

“I have a bit of money. Cash. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

John leaned back against the counter. “I have cash.”

Emma’s cheeks heated. The whole conversation reminded her why she didn’t date. “I thought I could pay you for your time. You got me out of the elevator, now you’ve driven me here, confronted… everything, and now you’re offering to take me and a teenager two hours north.”

“Are you done?”

Emma swallowed.

“Like I told you before, I don’t have anything else to do. I haven’t worked in six months, I don’t have any family. Hell, like Holly, I don’t even have a cat. There’s no one waiting for me.” He pushed off the counter and his voice lost the hard edge. “This is the first time in a long time I’ve been useful.”

“I appreciate it, really, I do, but are you sure? You could just drop us at my apartment. I could rent a car or a cab or an Uber.”

John snorted out a laugh. “I don’t think there will be any Ubers anytime soon.”

He had a point. Still, she didn’t like taking advantage. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She practically gawked. How could he not understand? “For everything? For helping me and Holly and hopefully Gloria. You’ve probably saved our lives.”

Before she even finished, John twisted back to the window and gripped the counter with both hands.

Emma faltered. “Did I say something wrong?”

John replied without turning around. “There must be sheets down the hall. I’ll go look. You pack the food. Shouldn’t let it go to waste.” He strode from the kitchen without another word.

Emma stood in the spot he’d left her, staring at his wake. What had she said to make him so angry? She ran her tongue over her lips, catching it on dry, cracked skin. The water in the break room had barely quenched her thirst and now it was early afternoon. When was the last time she’d eaten? Breakfast?

She turned toward the fridge. Raiding Zach’s home didn’t sit well, but John was right. Leaving everything was pointless. She glanced at Zach’s body, still sprawled out across the room. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I should have known.” She swallowed and opened the fridge. “I’ll take care of Holly. I promise.”

It didn’t take long to empty the kitchen. Emma tried to ignore her friend’s body as best she could as she piled up food he’d purchased, never expecting to die in his kitchen a few days later. Crackers, chips, snack bars and Gatorade. Lunchmeat, cheese, a bag of apples. All shoved into reusable shopping bags and a backpack cooler she found in the pantry.

As she topped off the last bag with a stack of napkins, John emerged from the hall rolling two suitcases. Emma cocked her head. “Going on a vacation?”

“Blankets, pillows, extra socks.” John rattled off the list like it should be obvious. “We don’t know how bad traffic will be or what we’ll find at your friend’s place. We might need to sleep in the car.”

Emma blinked. Traffic hadn’t occurred to her at all. If the blackout spanned multiple states, people would be freaking out. She groaned at the thought of Atlanta drivers in a panic. “About stopping by my place,” she began, pointing down at her work clothes and impractical dress shoes, “I’m not dressed for a road trip.”

“Let’s assess when we’re on the way.” John set the suitcases by the door and strode over to Zach’s body. He unfurled a navy blue sheet and laid it over the corpse. “Sorry we can’t do more.”

“So am I.” Emma knelt down as the blood seeped into the fabric, spreading in a dark stain. “Goodbye, my friend.” She reached out, hand hovering above the sheet.

“Know how to shoot one of these?”

Emma turned. John held a shotgun in his hand. “No.”

“You might have to learn.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He pinned her with a stare. “Don’t forget, we’ve got more going on than a dead man on the floor.”

Emma rocked back on her heels. He was so matter-of-fact about death, as if the body turning cold on the floor was the most normal thing in the world. She stood and rubbed her arms. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’m ready.” Holly stood in the hall, a duffel bag over her shoulder and a furry pink pillow gripped to her chest. She’d scrubbed her face, but evidence of hard crying remained. “Are we going or what?”

“We’re going.” John grabbed the two suitcases and pointed toward the door. “Ladies first.”

Chapter Nine

Emma

“We haven’t moved more than ten feet in half an hour.” Holly practically whined from the backseat. She was right, everyone and their brother was on the highway headed north from Atlanta. At this rate, they would reach Gloria’s in a week.

Emma twisted around. “Looks like everyone else has somewhere to go, too.”

“Wake me up when we get there, okay?” Holly slumped back and reached for her mp3 player.

Teenagers. Emma turned back to the front and clicked on the radio, scanning for a transmitting station. Nothing.

The sedan next to them wobbled in place as a man clambered over the console and plopped into the front seat. Suitcases, grocery bags, and what looked like an urn filled the rear window. The woman in the passenger seat threw up her hands, pointing at the sea of cars. Her mouth contorted as she yelled.

Unease snaked down Emma’s spine. She glanced at John. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands even though they weren’t moving. Was he regretting his offer?

She angled toward him. They needed to break the ice. “So, tell me a bit about yourself. Where are you from? What brought you to Atlanta?”

“Why do you think I’m not from