I slowly lift my eyes. On the screen, they are showing a picture of the destroyed, bloodied Pathfinder we left behind, stranded on the side of the interstate. They blur out the deceased mountain lion crunching in the front.
The anchor’s voice drones on, sharp and professional. Then, the image shifts. It’s a grainy, blurry still-frame from a security camera. It’sme, getting into the stolen SUV we took in New Mexico. You can’t see my face clearly, just the shape of my body and my hair, but the text beneath the image makes all the blood drain from my head.
PERSON OF INTEREST: RUTH IVERSON.
“Marshals have tentatively identified the woman in the footage, though it remains unclear if she is acting under duress. If you have any information, please call the number shown on the screen.”
My stomach knots up. I’mreallyin this now. I wonder what my mom is thinking right now. I swallow hard, and then almost laugh. I doubt she’s even surprised.
“Meanwhile, a shocking development out of Hereford, Texas, today. Beloved local boy scout leader and community figure, William 'Bill'...”
My lungs stop working. They show a picture of Bill, smiling with a troop of blurry-faced boys.
“...was found brutally murdered in his rural farmhouse. Authorities have not yet named a suspect in the killing and are urging anyone with information to come forward.”
The cashier’s voice draws me back. “You want your receipt, lady?”
“No,” I mumble. I snatch the plastic bag off the counter and practically sprint out the glass doors into the freezing morning air.
My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of the breadcrumbs.They know about the Pathfinder. They know about the SUV. They know my name.It’s just a matter of time before they tie Bill to us, too. Noah’s DNA is going to be everywhere.
And so is mine.
The net isn’t just closing… It’s practically choking us.
God, I hope Noah’s plan is actually good enough to get us out of here.
I mean, does he actually have a Coyote waiting in Maricopa, or is he just dragging us into the desert to die? What if Netty gets pressured into outing us? Will he keep his mouth shut? What the fuck are we going to do?
I reach the heavy, vibrating Knucklehead. Noah is standing by the pump, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the empty two-lane highway like a cornered animal. He looks exhausted, dangerous, and entirely like a stranger.
“I don’t want to stay here long. So put it in the bag,” he orders, his voice tight, nodding toward his weathered canvas duffel strapped to the sissy bar. “We’ll figure out some other place to stop.”
I nod and don’t say a word. I unzip the top of the duffel bag to shove the water bottles inside. As I push the beef jerky down into the dark canvas, my knuckles brush against something at the very bottom.
I know what it is. And I should tell Noah I have it. I should tell Noah about what I saw on TV. I should demand a better plan. But I mean, Noah’s been locked up for freaking ten years. What does he even know anymore?
Just get on the bike. We have to put fucking distance between them and us.
My breath hitches, but I force my face to stay completely blank. I zip the bag shut, pulling my hand away from the weapon, and look up at Noah, as I take a seat behind him, the bike roaring back to life.
He promised me last night in the dark that he would protect me. But something in my gut is screaming at me… I know I’m missing something from him.
Love.
I’m missing love.
49
NOAH
Something’s wrong with her.But I can’t take my mind off navigating this goddamn road.
I’m on the verge of losing my grip. Not just on the handlebars, but on the timeline, too. Everything aches. My once-healed bullet wound is opening back up, and my body is starting to feel…numb.
Still, I narrow my eyes at the asphalt ahead.
The road out of Truth or Consequences is a black throat, swallowing the weak yellow beam of the headlight. I can feel Rue pressed against my back, her small hands tucked into my pockets.
