“You went into the gas station… like that?” I slowly unwrap the croissant, eyeing her—and immediately reevaluating the mud on her shirt. “Did anyone ask any questions?”
“No,” Rue snaps at me. “No one asked questions. I’m on my way home to California, for all anyone knows. It’s not like I’m suspicious.” There’s a defensive edge in her tone that I don’t fully understand. However, Idounderstand the rasp of fatigue.
She needs to sleep. Soon.
“Maybe you should let me drive for a while,” I suggest, scooting more toward the middle of the backseat. Bullet peers over at me and then turns back to the window.
“That’s risky.” Rue shakes her head as I take a bite of the now-cold sandwich. “I don’t think you should be in the front seat from this point on. Your face is everywhere—and the search is all over the radio. Even out here.” Her bloodshot eyes jump to mine.
And the guilt racks me.
“We need to pull off. I gotta piss anyway,” I add quickly, and then gesture to the exit coming up. I squint at the sign, confirming we are, indeed, in Texas now.
“This town is too small,” Rue argues, catching my gaze again. “Someone is way more likely to notice you.”
“We’ll drive off the beaten path,” I reason, gesturing to the exit again. “It’s better than nothing. Besides, this is right off the Interstate, they’re going to be used to travelers.”
“I don’t?—”
“Just pull off,” I cut her off. “I see a motel sign.”
“What the hell are we going to do with a motel?” Rue turns to me. “We can’t stay in a motel. They keep IDs and a log…”
“Okay, but you’re just traveling home to California, right? And I mean, look at you,” I pause, her face flickering with emotion. “You need to get some sleep.”
“We need to keep moving.”
“Are they still searching the lake?” I continue to eat the sandwich, and Rue reluctantly takes the exit.
“I don’t know,” she deadpans. “I don’t have a good way to check, but we shouldn’t be spending money on a motel. We’re not exactly… well off.”
I nod. “I know, but after the last twenty-four hours, Rue, you need sleep. Solid sleep.”
Her cracked lips part, like she wants to say something, but then she just shakes her head again, taking the exit. I relax back into the backseat and then slump further down as the SUV comes to a crawl, entering the tiny town.
“This is a horrible idea. What if they have cameras?” Rue’s voice fills the cab. “They could see that I have a second person with me. That would be so bad.”
“Look for cameras when you go to check in, then,” I say.
“And how do I do that?” Her voice strains, and that fact alone tells me this is the right thing to do. “I can’t just fuckingaskthe front desk that.”
“You’re smart, Rue. You have to use your instincts and stay aware. Just like I’m sure you did at the gas station.” And bysure,I mean, I’m absolutelynotsure of this woman at all. She stabbed her boyfriend and pushed him into a lake.
So honestly, her stress levels seem to indicate volatility.
But shedidget away with it. Shedidmanage to fly under the radar. I gotta give her that.
“I could’ve made it another couple of hundred miles before we stopped,” Rue says, pulling into the parking lot of the motel. She pulls up to the front office and puts the car in park. Bullet hops up, peering over at her. “Stay here.”
She slides out of the car, leaving me with Bullet.
I watch her walk away, staring at her ass in her black sweatpants. The curve of her hips is the most tantalizing view, and because I’m not so fucking tired, my brain kicks into gear,reminding me of just how fucking good she felt when I was balls deep in her.
But I need to keep control of myself. Let Rue drive me most of the way, and then call a spade a spade—and let her move on.
My chest grows tight at that, and I suddenly feel desperate for comfort. I almost lean forward and pet the dog, but then stop myself, just in case there’s a camera facing the windshield. Right now, Rue doesn’t have eyes on her.
And I hope it stays that way. For her sake.
