Chapter 6
Six
Rhett
I’ve been sitting, staring at the evidence of destruction for too long from the open side door of the converted van we stole earlier today. We should get moving, I know that. I just can’t find the ability to do so.
From Caddawalk to the small town outside of Bar Harbor, Maine, it should’ve taken us fifteen hours. Instead, it’s taken us nearly a week. With all the redirection and trouble on our heels it took us much longer than anticipated.
Not that it mattered in the end.
The fire that claimed the house must’ve been years ago, judging by the vegetation that’s grown around the charred remains of my family’s second home. I haven’t been able to tear my eyes away from the rubble.
Memories of my time here are faint, but the feelings inspired by them are clear.
We all loved it here. Near the water, you can hear the crashing of waves against the shore but if you look to the west, you see trees for miles.
I loved both the water and woods. I used to fish with my dad on the edge of the cliff.
Play hide and seek with Mom in the woods.
Chase Abby around this very yard in a game of tag.
All that feels like a lifetime ago.
The pangs of heartache make it hard to breathe. Hard to move. So, I do little of both. I simply sit and stare.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since we arrived and when Blair sits down beside me. She doesn’t say anything. Her feet dangle next to mine as we both stare at the remains of the house. The sun’s rays warm my face, but the cool Maine air sweeps the warmth away before it sinks too deep.
I don’t realize how cold my hands are until one of Blair’s slides over one of mine.
I can feel the heat creeping up my wrist and into my arm.
It doesn’t reach my chest but that’s because I find it already warm.
Strange… The pain gripping my heart has receded.
It was so subtle I’m only now noticing how easy breathing is too.
Tearing my gaze away from what's left of my family’s estate, I look down to where Blair is touching me.
“Oh… sorry,” she mutters, quickly pulling away before jumping up.
My jaw clenches as I try not to be affected by her swift recoil.
The past few days the two of us have been doing this strange back and forth.
One of us will try to reach out but choke before committing to anything.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for, and I don’t know what Blair’s hesitation is, but I ache to bridge this gap between us—I just don’t know how.
Blair reaches into her pocket as she turns to look back at me.
“I found this,” she says. “I noticed it sticking out of a notch in a tree nearby.”
She reaches out her closed fist, and I hold out my hand. Blair opens her fingers and something small and light falls into my palm.
I bring it to eye level and study the plastic toy lion.
My heart skips a beat. I remember this toy.
It wasn’t mine. It was Abby’s. The color has faded from the mane, and the paint is missing from its little eyes but it’s almost exactly the same as I remember it.
Knowing what I’ll find on the small platform it’s standing on, I flip it over.
There, written in Abby’s handwriting, is the name “Leo”.
“Leo’s my favorite so don’t lose him but I’ll let you borrow him, Tyler.”
Her words are clear in my head. Rather than pain, they bring a smile to my face. In the end Abby lost Leo. We’d searched everywhere before leaving that summer. My fingers close around the toy as my heart swells.
When I look up to thank Blair, she’s already gone.
“Okay, so the good news is I think we’re going to be safe here tonight,” Blair announces as she jogs around the side of the van. “Judging by the lack of tire tracks, the park rangers don’t make their rounds often in this section of the park.”
I jerk my gaze away from the thousands of stars above me.
With a grunt, I roll onto my stomach to peer down at her from my perch on top of the van—Leo in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.
The stop at the convenience store after leaving my family’s home had been quick but successful. The van we’d stolen earlier had a wad of cash in the glovebox which Blair had used to grab us snacks, a burner phone, and—to my surprise—a pack of my favorite cigarettes.
That last item I didn’t ask for.
I don’t even know how she knew which brand was my favorite. The thoughtfulness of the small gesture was humbling.
After that stop, we grabbed some Chinese food for dinner before making our way here to Acadia National Park. We’d eaten in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. Blair’s thoughts were probably on our next move but mine? They’d been about her. About the little things she’s constantly doing for me.
She gave me peace to mourn the sight of what was left of my family’s vacation house.
Gave me something of my past to hold onto.
Bought me my favorite cigarettes as a small comfort on an otherwise bleak adventure.
But Blair’s thoughtfulness spreads further than just today.
From creating a small memorial service for Abby to saving my life, Blair has been there for me in ways that I would never have known to even ask for. The fact that even in these dire moments she’s still thinking of me makes it impossible not to adore her.
I frown as I study her closely. Blair’s mouth is pressed into a tight line, and her head is on a constant swivel, her brows gently furrowed. Her movements are a bit stiffer too. And she’s constantly tucking that strand of hair behind her ear.
I’m beginning to understand her small tells.
She won’t say it, but I know she’s anxious.
“And the bad news?” I call down.
She comes over and yanks open the sliding side door of the van.
“We’re going to have to go without a fire. It’ll draw too much attention this far into the National Park. We’re not where campers are supposed to be.”
I grimace. “Do you know how fucking cold it’s going to get tonight?”
“No, but I do know it’s cold right now.”
I eye the too-small jacket she’s wearing that she’d found in the van. It fits worse than the one I found for myself. I tried offering this coat to keep her warm, but she just rolled her eyes and walked away telling me that I needed it more than her.
Blair disappears inside the van then pops her head back out a moment later. “It’s taking forever for this burner phone to charge. We probably won’t be able to make a call until tomorrow morning.”
As long as I can talk to Santi and hear his voice soon, I don’t mind waiting.
I can feel his absence as strongly as I would if I suddenly found myself missing a limb.
I miss his smile and teasing. I miss the heated looks he would give me when he thought I wasn’t looking and how he knew what I needed when I found myself lost.
I was just beginning to accept the love he was offering when all this shit went down. There hadn’t been a chance for me to offer it in return.
Climbing down off the roof of the van, I join Blair on the ground.
I watch as she rummages through the cabinets.
The setup is actually really nice—if I was going to convert a van into a camper this is probably how I would do it.
It’s a shame the owners can’t enjoy it. Hopefully by the time we ditch it, the cops will be able to track them down and return it to them.
“There’s a small propane tank and stove under the bed, we could use that in the van to keep warm,” I suggest.
“And die of carbon monoxide poisoning? No thanks.”
My sigh is dramatic, mostly due to how tired I am but also because I know how rough it’ll get. It may be autumn but Maine gets cold fast. Especially at night.
“Alright,” she hops down out of the van and waves me in. “I pulled out all the blankets they had. We should be okay. Try to get some sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”
She doesn’t look at me as she turns to walk toward the woods. I frown, then catch the wrist of her good arm to halt her progression. She stops at once and looks back at me.
“You just said we’re safe,” I point out. “We’re both going to get some sleep tonight.”
“Rhett, we shouldn’t lower our guard—”
“Blair, we’re both no good like this,” I interrupt, scowling. “Even if it’s just for a few hours, we both need to sleep.”
Blair frowns, looking from me to the dark world around us. I know she’s going to argue so I shut it down at once.
“Get in the damn van, Blair. I’ll drag you in myself if I have to.”
Her eyes flash with indignation. “I need to keep us safe.”
I heave a long sigh, and toss the butt of my cigarette down. The toe of my boot smashes it further into the dirt. When I’m sure it’s completely out, I look back up at Blair.
“So, this is how it’s going to be, is it?”
Before she can open her mouth to give some lame ass excuse to avoid telling me what’s wrong, I swoop down, scoop her up, and drape her over my shoulder.
“RHETT!”
I ignore her shriek of outrage and flailing as I turn and climb into the van. I slam the door shut behind us, lock it and then dump her onto the mattress. She lands with a huff. There’s not a lot of room to move in here with two people, so I sit beside her as she scrambles to sit up.
“What the fuck, Rhett? Don’t you get that someone needs to be on the lookout at all times?” She demands. “We could be snuck up on, or a sniper could find the right spot to shoot us when we wake up or—”
“Or nothing will happen,” I point out as I yank off my boots.
She scoffs as she pushes her messy hair out of her face. “Have you not been paying attention at all? They’re hunters, they will find us again.”
“But tonight we should be in the clear.”
“Rhett—”
“Blair,” I yank off my jacket. “How about you tell me what’s really going on?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I don’t even bother calling her out on her bullshit. I simply shoot her a deadpan look before grabbing one of the thin pillows and fluffing it. It takes a minute but eventually the fight in her ebbs away. With a frustrated scoff she slaps the comforter.
I toss the pillow back onto the bed, ready to listen.