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I glanced at her for a second, then back at the road. “Does that mean something?” The silence in that pause was deafening. “Because they searched it, too, at some point.”
“Oh my God,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “...Daddy.”
The words were whispered, almost to herself, and it took all I had not to slam on the brakes and get her to look at me. “What about him?” I asked.
But she was already waving a hand. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit, nothing,” I said. “What about your dad?”
A hoarse, barked laugh escaped her throat. “What’s not about my dad at this point?” She covered her face with her hands for a second, then dropped them. “I’m tired right now. We’ll talk later.”
I knew her tired excuse was a lie, but I didn’t push her. I knew Faith well enough to know if I pushed her, she’d only fight me harder. We didn’t speak again for a couple of hours. I stopped again once we were well over the North Carolina border to gas up and to let her stretch and use the restroom. I grabbed us both a bottle of water, then we hit the road again with whatever radio station I could find to kill the silence between us.
She tried to hide it, but I saw her palm a couple of pills from her purse and swallow them back. I could only guess by her body language that she was getting uncomfortable, though she was too damn stubborn to complain or ask for a break. I pushed on a little longer until the sun began to descend. Thankfully, we’d made it past the hustle of Atlanta and were just outside Montgomery, Alabama. I felt relatively sure that we hadn’t been followed and could stop for dinner and some rest.
I found a roadside motel next to a Denny’s that didn’t look too shady and pulled in.
She’d finally given in to fatigue and her eyes shot open, one arm flailing against the door. “What are you doing?”
“Stopping for the night,” I said before stepping out. “Sit tight. I’ll get us a room, then we’ll go get something to eat.”
“Adam, wait—”
I ignored that, locking the driver’s door behind me and strolling inside to book a double room. When I came back outside, she wasn’t sitting where I’d left her. I spun in place, looking around the lot. Nothing.
I jogged to the other side of the car and peered down the corridor of motel rooms as my heart began to pound. “Faith!” I ran further. “Goddamn it, Faith!” I yelled. “Where are you?”
I skidded to a halt at the sound of a muffled voice in the opposite direction. I turned, listened. No sound of a struggle. No suspicious cars anywhere close by. I took off in that direction and rounded the corner on the other side of the tiny excuse of an office only to find Faith on the ground crying.
Wait—
Laughing?
“What the hell are you doing?” I boomed at her.
She glanced up at me, and the actual smile there nearly took out my knees. Happy lived there. And that’s when I saw the puppy in her lap. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Was she fucking serious right now? The little white furball licked her face, making her eyes light up to match her smile.
“What I was doing was saving this little guy.”
“Saving...?” I glanced around in frustration. “I told you to stay in the car.”
Her head snapped up. “And I told you, you don’t tell me what to do.” She rubbed her nose in the dog’s fur. “He was in the road. He almost got killed.”
“Well, good job. You saved him. Let’s go.”
“We can’t just leave him here. He’s a baby.”
“Who probably has a mama, Faith. Or an owner.”
She stood with the pup in her arms and stared me down. “I don’t see any other dogs around here. Do you? And there’s no collar or tag.”
I didn’t mention the carcass we’d passed about a mile back while her eyes were shut, that looked sadly like this little guy. “You can’t keep a puppy, Faith.”
“Says who? My father?” She lifted a sarcastic brow. “Yeah. Thought so. Now quit being so fucking bossy. He’s coming with us.”
I reared back at that coarse language coming from those sweet lips. Plus... that few seconds of unadulterated joy on her face? I’d walk through fire to keep that there.
“Fine,” I said.
