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 couldtotallyhappen, 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.
16
RUE
How fast was I going?Was it reallythatmuch over the limit?The lights flash in my rearview mirror as I pull off onto the shoulder of the interstate. My stomach churns, my mind running with a thousand possibilities.
I mean, for all I know, they have a BOLO out on my car.
