Chapter 12
RUE
This is a horrible idea, and it’s so freaking hot. That’s all I can think about as I step through the front doors of the motel, the glittery cactus décor almost more than I can bear.
“Can I help you?” a young woman, probably no older than eighteen, peers over the counter at me. She does a once-over as I step up to the counter, and I force a faint smile.
“Yeah, I saw that you’re pet-friendly,” I begin, leaning against the counter. I know I need to be nonchalant. I know I need to look for cameras and security. But my body aches, and I can’t find the energy. “I just need a room for one night.”
“Well, check-in isn’t until three…” the girl’s voice trails off, as she picks up a notebook, rather than flipping through a computer.
“And our system is down, so I’m not able to just…
check.” The frustration fills her voice, and she lets out a heavy sigh.
“I can’t even run a card right now for payment. ”
“I have cash?” I offer, thankful that I always keep a hundred in my wallet. “I really need to get some sleep. I’m exhausted, and I don’t think I can keep driving.”
The girl looks up from the log, her face morphing with sympathy. “Yeah, um… Let me call the owner and see what I can do. We don’t really take cash…”
“Okay, that’s fine. I just would like to rent a room,” I pause, letting out a sigh, “And I don’t really want to try and find another place right now.”
“I totally get it,” she smiles. “Give me just a second.” She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and then pushes back from the counter, disappearing into the back office. I’m left alone in the front, scanning a few shitty travel brochures.
Tour Route 66.
I grab the faded map and then flip it open, taking in the various landmarks along the route. Are we driving all the way to California like this? I blink a few times and then glance back toward the door. I can’t see anything other than the front bumper of my car.
But at least he’s not stealing it and running away.
“So… I talked to the owner,” the girl suddenly reappears. “And while we don’t normally accept cash, she says it’s fine since the system is down. I just need your information, and before you check out, I’ll take your card. They said it won’t be down much longer.”
Just my luck.
“Okay, that’s fine.” I flip my wallet open and then pull out the hundred dollars.
The girl stares at the bill. “I don’t have change…”
I swallow hard but wave it off, my heart missing a beat. “Just keep the whole thing, and when I come to check out tomorrow, we can figure out—even if that means running my card or whatever.”
The girl nods, her expression riddled with frustration and annoyance of her own.
“Yeah, I’m sure the owner won’t mind.” She goes ahead and takes the bill from me before sliding across the logbook.
“Just write down your name and phone number. I think I should probably get a copy of your driver’s license, too? ”
I meet her gaze, and somehow find the will to smile sympathetically at her confusion. “I left it in the car, but I can write down all of the information for you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be good,” she huffs, shaking her head. “I swear, I’m so tired of our system having outages, but it’s been such a pain with the new update.”
“I totally get it,” I click the pen, and then scribble down a name and driver’s license information.
That is absolutely not mine.
“Here’s your room information,” she says, setting a single brass key with a tag attached to it down in front of me. “It’s a nonsmoking, pet-friendly room. It’s at the very end of the building on the right.”
“Thank you,” I swipe the key up and hand her the logbook. “I seriously need a nap.”
She smiles. “Well, I hope you get some rest. I’ll be over here if you need anything—though I don’t know if I’ll be much help.”
“I appreciate it regardless.” I laugh, shifting to my heels. As I lean a little more to the left, I catch sight of the security camera monitor screen…
Just long enough to see the blue flickering warning.
Offline. The cameras must’ve gone down with the rest of their system.
“Thank you,” I call out once more, and then slip from the office. I head for the car, a wave of relief flooding over my shoulders.
It’s like fate or Mother Nature, or something, just gave us a break with this place.
I rip the driver’s side door open and then slide in, plopping down the key on the console. “Okay, well… I got a room.” I glance back at Noah, who’s hunched down in the backseat, zoning out. “I also got this.” I pass back the pamphlet.
He takes it, and then frowns. “This is a shitty map.”
“Well, I don’t even know where the fuck we’re going, Noah,” I snap at him. “I’m just heading west like you asked me to.”
He doesn’t flinch. “Okay.” He sets the brochure down beside him in the seat, and I shift the car into reverse, my eyes protesting the bright sun with tears.
I wipe them away with my sleeve and make sure I do not peer back at Noah. The last thing I want right now is for him to see me crying. That would just be embarrassing at this point.
“I don’t really know where we’re going,” Noah’s voice cuts through the hum of the car, as I head toward the room. “I think Mexico might be the answer, but it’s going to be hard to get across, and Netty said Texas wasn’t the place to do it.”
“Well, west sure as hell isn’t south.”
“If they catch wind that I’m not in that lake, they’re going to look at the closest border crossing,” Noah continues, unbothered by my shitty attitude.
“There are a ton of people who illegally cross.” I pull into a spot.
“Not with their face all over the news. That’s the kind of shit they’re looking for. We’re gotta let this shit die down a little.”
I nod, grateful to be parked again. I didn’t realize how sick of driving I was until I wasn’t driving anymore. I grab the leash, push the door open, and then help Bullet out of the car.
“Rue,” Noah calls out from the backseat, before I can close it.
I lean back in the car, catching his gaze. “The cameras aren’t working. The whole system is down. I had to pay with cash. So, it should be fine.”
He nods, and I slam the door. I’m too tired to deal with his coldness.
Bullet makes quick work of going to the bathroom, sniffs around in the dead grass, and then tugs back toward the car. He’s long since eaten his breakfast.
The back driver’s side door opens, and out slides Noah, slowly, his hood up over his head. He has the duffle slung over his shoulder and my backpack in the hand of his good arm. Still, his movements are stiff, and he winces as he makes it to the door, shoving the key in the lock.
I follow him, catching the door for him before it can knock him off balance. Bullet darts through the opening, and I drop the leash, letting him go. My eyes follow him as he darts across the tile floors and hops up onto the teal quilt on the bed.
The one bed in the room.
I eye Noah to gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t seem to have one. He just plops the duffel bag down on the desk beside the TV and opens it, pulling out the pill bottle. He pops one of them and then lets out a sigh.
“You should take a shower,” he says to me, turning the bottle in his hands. “While you can. We won’t get to stop like this all the time.”
“Yeah,” I say, my shoulders falling. “I just feel so tired.”
He looks up, his brows furrowing. “Then maybe you should sleep first. You can shower before we leave.”
“You should rest, too,” I reason, forcing myself to take a step toward my backpack. “For all we know, we’re in the easiest stage of this whole adventure.”
His eyes darken. “Oh, I know we are.”