Chapter 15
NOAH
I can’t want her. I slide my injured arm carefully into the sleeve of the hoodie, gritting through the burning sensation shooting up and into my shoulder.
“I think I should just leave the key on the desk, and not worry about checking out,” Rue’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“I thought that’s how it worked? We can just leave the key in the room and leave?” I turn to see her lingering by the door, clinging to the leash while Bullet sits at her feet.
She rocks back onto the heels of her Converse.
“Well, that’s how it works most of the time, but when I checked in, their system was down, and they didn’t have change for the room…
” Her voice trails off, her fingers fidgeting with the black nylon material.
“I’m supposed to go back by so they can just charge my card. ”
“That’s ridiculous,” I snap, jerking my hoodie the rest of the way on. “But whatever.”
“So, I think we should just lose the twelve dollars,” Rue says carefully, eyeing me like I might bite her for the suggestion.
Why am I scaring her?
“Okay, we’ll leave the twelve dollars. We can find something else. There’s always more money.” I shrug my shoulders and grab up the duffel bag. “Let’s just go. You didn’t use your real name anyway.”
She nods, but there’s some hesitation there. I don’t understand it in the slightest. I’m not sure why something so small—like overpaying for the room would make her appear so… nervous.
“Let’s go,” I nod to the door. “Now.”
She pushes the door lever down. “What if the cameras are back on?”
“I’ll keep my head down.”
“I mean, they probably won’t even think of me.” Rue’s entire expression grows distant. “I don’t think so…”
“Who?” Frustration starts to burn in my chest. “You’re not even making any sense.”
“The marshals.” Her gaze flicks to meet mine. “They came to my house. They questioned me about my ties to you. I was right there when it all happened, Noah. Then I just, what? Up and leave? I think that could be suspicious.”
I nod, tracking her thought process. “They could, but they probably won’t. They think I’m somewhere tangled up in a tree at the bottom of the lake.”
“Fair enough,” she nearly whispers, shifting her backpack and pulling the door open. She glances around, steps out, and then turns back to me. “You’re sure you got everything?”
“I don’t have much to forget,” I deadpan, and then slip past her, the air significantly cooler outside than inside the stuffy motel room.
“This place was pretty nice,” Rue comments as the door clicks shut behind her.
“Cool, add it to a list of vacation spots.” I cringe at my tone and shake my head at myself as I move toward the car. Why am I being such a fucking dick?
But I can’t even look at Rue. I don’t want to see the same look she gave me when I pulled away from her. That’ll just make me feel even worse. I pop the door open, and just as I do, the sound of another engine causes me to freeze.
Shit. I eye the truck pulling in on the driver’s side of the Pathfinder, stopping a few feet from where Rue’s helping Bullet into the car.
“Evening,” a middle-aged man, who looks about as rough as they come, gives Rue a nod as he slides out of the passenger seat of the lifted old Dodge. “Cute dog you got there.”
“Thanks,” Rue says in passing, but stays angled in his direction.
I stay still, peering through the tinted windows of the SUV. The man’s in a dirty white T-shirt, like he just spent the day working on an oil rig or something of the sort. I bristle at the way he lingers there, a second man—the driver—heading straight into the motel room beside ours.
I want to make myself known.
“You don’t talk like you’re from California,” he chuckles at her.
“Huh,” is all that comes out of her mouth. She’s trying to be passive, and also trying to assess the threat level this overly friendly weirdo is throwing at her.
“We got some beers, want one?” He takes a step toward her.
Bullet lets out a low growl.
My heart jumps to my ears, and my grip tightens on the door. Every alarm is ringing in my head. This man acts just like the men I served time beside.
A disgusting, boundary-violating creep.
“No thanks,” Rue says, and then makes her move, swiftly sliding into the driver’s seat and shutting the door. She punches the lock button, and the guy’s face falls.
But he heads toward his motel room. And Rue shudders as she watches him.
I climb into the backseat and shut the door, something dark blooming through my body. I want to jump out of this fucking SUV and bash that fucker’s head in. I want to do that more than I want to get to the border.
But my fingers find the seatbelt instead, and I pull it across my lap, buckling it.
Rue starts the car, the headlights illuminating the side of the motel. Her eyes don’t jump back to me, and for a moment, there’s a pang of disappointment in that lack of acknowledgment.
Not that I deserve that right now.
“West?” she throws out there finally, when we reach the exit of the parking lot. “I’m assuming we’re heading to Arizona, and that’s how you want to get there?”
“Yeah, the most direct route.”
She doesn’t budge. “Maybe we should get a map.”
“Maybe you should just follow the signs.”
“Right, but I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to get there, and we don’t have a phone anymore.” Rue angles her head to look at me. “If something goes… wrong. It would be nice to have a map.”
“Well, we can get one when we ditch this car.”
“I still don’t understand why we’re ditching my car. Everyone will know it’s mine, and then my mom could report me missing or something—which could totally happen, because you threw my phone out the window.”
Shit. She’s actually got a point. And if I drop her off at the border…
I rake a hand over my face. I’m not thinking clearly enough.
“I’m just going to head west,” she mutters, mostly under her breath. “I mean, I guess eventually they’re probably going to figure it out anyway. I should’ve kept my phone and texted my mom…”
“No,” I counter, resting my head against the window, as she pulls out onto the main road leading back to the interstate. “All it takes is one sighting of me, and all bets are off. They’re going to start tracking us.”
“I guess.” Rue stays focused on the road. She veers onto the entrance ramp and then smashes the gas.
“Don’t drive too aggressively,” I warn her. “We don’t want to draw attention.”
“Right.” Her voice is flat, and I notice her eyes drop to the dashboard. “We should’ve gotten gas. I only have ninety miles to empty.”
“Oh well.” I shrug my shoulders, unable to conjure up the ability to be mad at her. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with my moods, but they’re all over the place.
I guess this is what getting out does to you.
I blink a few times and then peer out into the night. And that’s when I see him, tucked away behind a guardrail.
A fucking trooper.
And right as I look to see how fast Rue is going, the lights kick on.