Chapter Thirty-Five #3
It’s still dark when I slip out of bed. Most of my things are still packed from when I last visited my apartment.
I stuff my feet into my sneakers and slide on my spare pair of glasses.
The last thing I do is swipe the letter and dagger from beneath my pillow and carefully tuck the blade into the pocket of my denim jacket that Krystal washed and returned.
My hand is on the knob of the front door when I realize someone sits at the counter. My eyes adjust to the low light from the stove and make out Krystal’s orange satin sleep bonnet.
“Didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?” she asks.
“I was going to call in the morning,” I swear. “I’m just notoriously bad at goodbyes.”
“I know you have to go.” She stands and wraps her arms around my shoulders.
“Thank you.” I squeeze her back twice as hard as tears cloud my vision. “Not just for letting me stay here with your family, but for everything. I’m not sure I would have survived the past few months without you. I mean that.”
“I wouldn’t have survived at all without you,” she says in a light, choked tone. “You’re always welcome here. Whatever happens, I’m just a call away. Please check in, okay?”
“I will,” I promise, pulling back. “Give my love to Aurelia and Kassidy. Thank Amelia for me.”
“You know I will. Now go get your man, angel.”
Behind the wheel, I expect fear to seize me like it used to, but I start my car without incident. On the contrary, I’m itching to drive. The sky is a few shades lighter, looking more dusty plum than navy. Almost enough to fool me into thinking I never left the underworld.
I set my dagger on the dash of the car. It’s the most unorthodox GPS ever, but I have to trust it will lead me to Luke, wherever he is.
By the time I wipe my eyes and pull out of the driveway, it has spun to point east. I expected it to take me toward the expressway, but only once I’m halfway down a long rural road do I realize where it’s leading me.
I park outside of Luke’s house as the sun streaks the sky gold with dawn. In the driveway is an unfamiliar shitbox of a sedan, the trunk popped to block the person rifling through it.
“I see you have a type.”
Luke jerks the trunk down, staring at me in disbelief over the length of the vehicle.
I gesture to its rusted body. “God forbid you jack a nice car. What happened to yours?”
“Likely meeting its demise in an impound lot.” He runs a hand through his hair—not that there’s much left. The results of a buzz cut that looks disastrously good on him, even though I’ll miss having something to grip.
I nod at the haircut. “You know, people on the run trying to hide their identities usually avoid their house. Tends to be the first place cops look.”
“I’m on my way out.” The bags beneath his eyes suggest he hasn’t slept much. “Didn’t you get my letter?”
I round the car, walking toward him. “Sure did.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
I only stop when I’m close enough to see every shade of brown that makes up his irises. “Because I’m coming with you.”
I wait for a rebuttal, but he merely holds my gaze. “Why?”
“Because it’s what I want,” I crack. Emotion fills the fissures, seeping into every word. “I don’t want to go back to Curated Care. I don’t want to go back to before, whether that was me a year ago or two weeks ago. I’m me now, and I know what’s out there and I’m not afraid. At least, not of that.”
He steps so close I have to tilt my chin to look at him. “What are you afraid of then?”
“Losing you.”
It’s maybe the most honest I’ve ever been. “You made a deal with your brother to save me. And you’re right—that’s your deal. But I still have my choice. I choose you.”
“Choosing me means being on the run. It means endless nights in motels and the car and the cold. It means your safety never guaranteed.”
“I wanted to work in movies,” I remind him. “The next best thing is kind of living one.”
He clenches his jaw. For the first time it occurs to me that maybe he doesn’t want me.
“Unless you’d rather be alone.” The realization is heavy. “If you don’t want me—”
I can’t finish the sentence because he’s kissing me, drawing a little sigh from deep inside my chest as I melt against him. When he pulls back, his gaze is tender.
“I’ve wanted you every second since leaving you at the hospital. I had to get back here to get some things, so I drove across the country in one shot. And you know what I thought the entire time?”
“What?” I ask, breathless.
“How fucking miserable it was without you and your questions and company. How much I missed you. So, yes, Brie, I want you. I don’t deserve you, but I want you. And I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t.” I wind my hands around the back of his neck so my fingers brush the stubby hairs there. “Let’s go hunt some demons. Together. But we’re taking my car, got it?”
Together, we transfer an extremely illegal assortment of weapons from the shitbox’s trunk to mine. He starts toward the driver’s side, but I beat him to it, spinning the key on my finger. “I’ll drive.”
“By all means.” He smirks, getting into the passenger seat. Before he can buckle his seat belt, I’m tugging him across the console to capture his mouth with mine.
“For the record, you still owe me a date.” I pull away to whisper in his ear, “We made a deal.”