Chapter 6 Sophie
SIX
SOPHIE
Huge raindrops start crashing onto the windshield and roof of the pickup, making the engine barely audible.
After all, my mother was right when she said it would rain.
It feels like years have passed since she spoke these words, but it probably hasn’t been much more than an hour. Yet more has happened in that short span of time than I could ever have imagined.
I feel terribly stupid for not seeing through something that was obviously a lie.
But Cole no longer seems angry. He drives the pickup silently through the pouring rain while looking straight ahead.
A deep crease has formed between his brows, and his storm-gray eyes are slightly narrowed.
Even his lips are tense. Yet they look so soft that I almost reach out to run my fingertips over them.
Instead, I let my gaze slide over his body.
He’s wearing a T-shirt, allowing me to see his arms, which are covered with black images.
Tattoos, I think to myself and look at the designs.
There are roses, a cross, something that resembles a watch, strange patterns, and skulls.
Even on the backs of his hands and fingers, I see ink, and I wonder if his whole body is covered in it.
"Does it hurt?" I almost cringe at my own voice, which seems unnaturally loud despite the rain.
Cole shoots me a glance before looking back at the road. "What are you talking about?"
"The tattoos."
He chuckles, tilting his head to the side. "Depends."
My mother taught me that there are Native peoples who tattoo themselves. So I know how the ink gets under the skin, and it sounds pretty painful to me. "On what?"
"On the part of the body," he answers patiently. "There are areas where you can barely feel it, and others where it hurts like hell."
I wince but can’t deny how fascinating the images are to me. "Which one hurt the most?"
A strange, unreadable expression crosses his face, but I can’t decipher it because the sky has turned so dark and the forest around us puts everything in deep shadows.
"This one." Cole lifts his T-shirt so I can see his rib cage. Across his ribs, the word guilty is immortalized in curved letters on his skin. It’s huge and stands out starkly, which is why I can even see it in the poor lighting.
"What does it stand for?" I whisper, not averting my eyes.
He grimaces and lets go of the fabric, the tattoo vanishing beneath it. "That’s none of your business."
I flinch at his suddenly hard voice and slump in my seat, lowering my gaze to my hands. "I’m sorry."
When I hear a low fuck from Cole, I look up in alarm.
"What’s wrong?"
"Cops," he replies curtly.
I search the road ahead with my eyes, seeing nothing.
"Behind us."
I turn quickly in my seat and glance out the rear window. And sure enough, back there—far, far away, but still recognizable by the flashing red-and-blue lights—is a patrol car. My heart instantly begins to race. "Are they—"
"Looking for you? You can bet on it, little darling."
An iron fist wraps around my chest. I don’t want them to find me. And I especially don’t want them to come after us. They’ll give Cole trouble, I’m sure of it. But he didn’t do anything! He helped me, but something tells me they won’t believe us.
"I don’t want to go back," I say in a thin voice and look at Cole, who glances at me. His jaw tenses visibly as he puts his right hand on the steering wheel as well. When he looks forward again, I can see a muscle on his neck twitch in the pale glow of the dashboard lights.
"I know." He takes one more look in the rearview mirror. "You’re buckled up?"
"What?"
"Are you wearing your seat belt?" The urgency in his voice makes my heart race even faster.
"Yes."
"Good. Hold on to the door handle. It’s about to get uncomfortable."
We drive along a curve so the lights of the police car disappear. I’m about to ask Cole what he means when he steps on the brake and jerks on the steering wheel at the same time, causing the huge pickup to skid and change direction with screeching tires.
A scream escapes me when Cole accelerates again.
Blindly, I grope for the handle on the door as I realize that the car’s headlights are pointed into the forest that was just beside us.
Only a second later, we are already in said forest. The dark tree trunks race toward us, and I thank God that we are not in one of Mississippi’s countless swamps, but have solid ground beneath us.
I have no idea how Cole manages to steer this monster of a vehicle between the closely packed trees, but I don’t dare ask him.
I probably wouldn’t have gotten a word out anyway since I’m so startled.
When he turns off the headlights and it becomes pitch-black around us, I fear my heart will jump out of my chest at any second.
At the same moment, he hits the brakes and switches off the engine as soon as the truck comes to a halt, so that only the loud drumming of the raindrops on the roof can be heard.
I turn my head in all directions, but I can’t see anything because the night has fallen and it has become completely dark. Not even the dashboard lights are on anymore.
"Cole?"
"Yeah?"
"I’m scared." My voice shakes, and I notice tears running down my cheeks.
"You don’t have to be. I’m not going to—"
"I’m not scared of you." I interrupt him. "I’m scared of the police."
The words surprise us both, but they’re true.
Even though it’s dark and I’m alone in the truck with a stranger, it’s not him I’m afraid of.
I’m afraid of the police finding me. Finding us.
That they’ll take me back to my mother, who I’m sure will be terribly angry, and that Cole will go to jail. Why else would they come after us?
His voice cuts through the silence that was trying to spread between us. "They can’t see us, darling. Everything’s okay." Then I feel his fingers on my leg. I search for them with my left hand and breathe out with relief when I find them, and Cole clasps my hand with his.
"There," he suddenly says, and when I look in the side mirror, I can see the forest light up where the road has to be. "They’re driving by."
Indeed, when I turn in my seat, I can see the lights brighten for a moment before they rush by and everything goes dark again.
My heart continues to beat like crazy, and my shallow breathing is also way too fast. "We could have hit a tree," I state incoherently after a few seconds while I wait for my body to calm down.
Cole chuckles and lets go of my hand to turn the headlights and engine back on. "No, certainly not."
Immediately, my fingers get cold where his had touched me. I turn to look at him with my mouth open in what has to be shock. In the light now illuminating our surroundings, I realize he actually looks amused.
"That’s not funny!"
"No," he agrees with a grin. "It really isn’t. But I can assure you that we couldn’t hit a tree."
"And what makes you so sure of that? This pickup is… huge! And you just… drove straight through the forest." I’m so shaken up with bewilderment, tension, and fear that I almost scream, but I don’t care. "You could’ve killed us."
Cole’s grin dies immediately. When he turns to me slowly, his eyes are disturbingly dark and ice cold. "Don’t ever say something like that again." His voice is just a whisper, yet it is more frightening than any shouting could be.
I can’t bear his piercing gaze and lower my head. "I’m sorry," I murmur. Then I see in the corner of my eye that he shifts the gear, and I feel how the truck starts moving.
On the entire drive through the forest back to the road, I don’t dare lift my head.
Only when I feel that we’re driving on asphalt again do I look outside—through the passenger window, so I don’t have to meet his cold gaze again.
Instead, I rest my forehead against the cool window and stare into the darkness of the night.
That was clearly too many adventures all at once. The last thing I think about before my eyes fall shut is that this is definitely not how I imagined escaping my previous life.