5
Jem parted the blinds with one finger and watched the street.
Dark.
Quiet.
So, why did he feel like someone was staring back at him?
Behind him, Amy dumped another armful of clothes into a suitcase. She was breathing too quickly. The sound was close to tears. But she didn’t cry; she leaned on the suitcase, forcing it closed while she ran the zipper. And then she said, “Okay, I think that’s it.”
“Hopefully, it’ll only be for a few nights,” Tean said.
Amy nodded.
Jem wondered if any of them actually believed that.
“You’re sure you’d rather stay in a hotel tonight?” Tean asked as he rolled one of the suitcases toward the door. “Not with family or friends?”
“Are you kidding? They’re going to think I’m having a nervous breakdown.” She dragged the suitcase off the bed, and it landed on the floor with a thump. “I’m going to push the dresser in front of the door, and I’m not coming out.”
“That’s a good start,” Jem said. He dropped his hand; the blinds fell back into place, and the street was gone.
He moved past Tean to get to the front of their three-person formation and led the way to the back door.
“As far as we know, they’re not doing anything fancy—no hacking accounts, that kind of stuff.
We don’t know how they got on to River yet, but once they did, they had to do it the old-fashioned way, which meant following her with eyes on the ground.
They got to you from River, and they’re back to the same tricks. ”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe. A little. As long as we make sure we aren’t followed to the hotel, they won’t have any idea where you are. Stay off social media. Don’t send friends or family any pictures. Do you have your location shared with anyone?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Check,” Jem said.
“We’ve got an episode coming out in two days,” Amy said. “I’ve got to do some promotional posts for that.”
“Could you skip this one?” Tean asked.
“This is my job. This is how I make a living.”
“If you want to keep living,” Jem said, “let this one go.”
In the darkness of the kitchen, Amy’s breathing sounded wet.
“Jem,” Tean said softly.
“Sorry,” Jem said. “But you’ve got to keep things in perspective. Wait here while I check this out.”
Letting the paracord unspool from around his wrist, he stepped outside.
The night was like a flash freeze, stealing his breath away, making his eyes sting.
He jogged across the uneven pavers toward the two cars parked in the alley.
When he reached them, he glanced up and down the alley in both directions.
Winter-brown climbers rustled when the breeze shifted.
A plastic bag caught on a chain fence puffed up with air and then sank back down again. Metal rattled against metal—
Fuck!
—and then something small scurried out from behind a line of trash cans.
Jem’s ragged breath was kind of a laugh. He clicked the flashlight on again and checked the interior of Amy’s car, then the Subaru. And then he whistled.
A moment later, the sunroom door made that scraping noise again, and then the clatter of the roller bags on the pavers broke the quiet.
Tean came first, with Amy behind. When they reached the end of the lot, Jem took the bag from Amy and loaded it into her trunk.
He took the second one from Tean and repeated the process.
And then he shut the trunk and listened.
Still nothing.
Which was fan-fucking-tastic, because his skin was itching so bad he wanted to scratch it off.
“We’re going to follow you,” Jem told her. “Stay on the phone. If something happens—”
“Go to the police.”
“Yep. Otherwise, just be cool.”
She warbled something that might have passed for amusement and got in her car. A moment later, Tean and Jem were in the Subaru, and they were headed down the alley.
No headlights came on.
No one turned out to follow them.
They didn’t see another car until they reached the next major road, and it was a Toyota Avalon going ten miles under the speed limit.
“Is anyone following us?” Tean asked.
“If they are, they’re invisible.” Jem rubbed his eyes. As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion rolled in, but two things were making themselves annoyingly clear in spite of how tired he was: he needed to ice his hand, and his shoulder was killing him.
Amy lurched out into the street, accelerating so quickly that her tires screeched, and Tean pulled out after her.
“Like a bat out of hell,” Jem muttered.
He looked behind them.
A music store, closed for the night.
An insurance agency, windows dark.
Empty pavement.
They saw more cars as they drove through Salt Lake.
Some were headed in the opposite direction.
Others sped up behind and then passed them.
Under the orange haze of the streetlights, there was something unreal about all of it.
Nobody hung back and followed them, though.
And he didn’t see the same license plate twice.
Amy had picked the Little America, which wasn’t a bad choice. The hotel was unadorned brick, and it looked like an apartment building than anything else. They found parking at the back of the lot, and as Jem unloaded the bags, Tean huddled in his coat and kept watch.
The lobby, in contrast to the exterior, was much fancier, with wood paneling and marble columns and all the furniture upholstered in the kind of velvety fabric Scipio would immediately fur up. Classical music played softly. The air was warm and smelled like pine trees.
A bored-looking young woman stood behind the check-in desk.
In less than ten minutes, Amy had a room for the next three nights, and Jem and Tean lugged the bags up the elevator, down the hall, and to the room.
It was silly at this point, but if you were going to do something, you might as well do it right, which Jem thought mostly applied to boinking and making nachos, but you could probably use it for other stuff too.
He made Amy let him go first, but it was just your standard hotel room: bathroom, bed, tiny closet.
No wolves.
The window looked out on the parking lot, and he pulled the blackout curtains before he let her come in.
Amy fooled around with her luggage for a few minutes, trying to figure out where she wanted it, and then she sat on the bed. The wind had given her a lot of flyaways, and her eyes had that disconnected look that meant she wasn’t really seeing anything.
“Do you want us to stay?” Tean asked.
“What? Oh. No. No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”
“Nobody knows you’re here,” Jem said. “Keep the door locked. Stay off social media.”
She was already nodding. “I know.”
“Do you need anything?” Tean asked.
Amy shook her head.
“We’ll hang out downstairs for a little while,” Jem said. “Just in case.”
“Okay.” She followed them to the door. “I’m not crazy, am I?”
Tean looked at Jem.
Jem shook his head. “Keep trusting your gut.”
For some reason, that made her smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“We charge two hundred dollars an hour plus tips, and we get union breaks. And Tean has to make sure no animals are harmed in the making of this movie.”
“He’s making that up,” Tean informed her. “You don’t owe us anything.”
Her smile grew, but she didn’t say anything. She shut the door behind them, and the bolt went home, and metal thunked as the swing bar fell into place.
As they went down the elevator, Jem caught Tean watching him.
“What?” Jem asked.
Tean shrugged. “I love you.”
Jem gave him a super cool nod. He did a little slouching. Checked his hair in the mirror to make sure it still looked kick-ass. And then he said, “Oh shit. I love you too.”
Tean was still laughing when the elevator doors slid open.
They’d barely made it to the Subaru before Tean took out his phone and frowned down at it.
“Is that Amy?” Jem asked.
“Surprisingly close,” Tean said in that dry voice that meant he wasn’t actually amused. “Amos.”
“What does he want?”
“To be a jerk. As usual.”
“I’ll fight him. Do you want me to fight him? Wait, could I beat him?”
Tean snorted. “You could beat him with your eyes closed.” The phone buzzed again, and Tean glanced at it and grimaced.
“Family emergency?”
“Yes. I suppose.” Tean didn’t grow much facial hair, but it had been a full day since he’d shaved, and when he ran one hand over his cheek, it rasped faintly. “My grandfather died.”
“Oh my God, Tean. I’m sorry. Wait, right now?”
“Earlier. My dad called while we were at Rainbow House. And you don’t need to be sorry, Jem.
He was a difficult man. He didn’t particularly like me when I was a child, and he basically stopped talking to me after I came out.
He and my father didn’t get along, to put it mildly, which might be the only thing that my father and I have in common.
” In that same dry tone, he added, “Of course, my dad is furious that I didn’t drop everything the moment he called.
According to this text message, Amos wants to know what’s wrong with me.
Then he answers the question. Apparently I’m selfish, self-centered, self-absorbed, an emotionless robot—”
“I’m definitely going to fight him,” Jem said, but the joke felt flat now. He ran his hand down Tean’s arm, found his hand, and squeezed his fingers. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s typical Amos. His family motto is ‘bully and guilt.’”
Jem ran his thumb over the backs of Tean’s fingers.
“I don’t really feel anything,” Tean said. “I’m sorry he’s dead, but he lived a long life. He hasn’t been well for a few years, and his health has been particularly poor for the last few months. But I wasn’t close to him, and I don’t miss him.”
Jem thought about that for a while. And then he gave Tean’s hand a tighter squeeze. “Family is fucked up.”