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He points toward the crowd. “No one’s going to be expecting us to be in the middle of all that. Plus, the best way to hide on Pink Street is in the crowd. There’ll be a taxi waiting for us near the strip club.”
I glance down at myself. “I work there, remember? What if they recognize me?” “
“They won’t place you there.”
He wraps an arm around me and whispers into my ear, “Just remember. I’m not going anywhere.”
I don’t answer, because the closer we get, the louder it becomes.
The whole block seems to be out on the verandas or standing in front of the building, watching. Firemen tame the fires on either sides, trying to prevent it from spreading.
A drunk homeless man throws the rest of his water bottle at the fire, but everyone else stands there, witnessing the end of the Moranos—the end of me too.
The crawl way above is being cleared by police, and a man dressed in a suit stops to stare down at the crowd. His eyes land on me for a bit longer than the rest, then toward Styx who rubs his belly and has a bottle of beer in his hand.
Where the hell did he get that?
The onlooker, who I don’t quite get a clear visual of us moves on to speaking with the police and pointing at the building. Once we blend in with a few retreating people, I glance back. He looks so familiar. Underneath the rain of ashes, I stop and watch as the man nearly jumps off the crawl way. All eyes are on him.
My heart throbs inside my breast cage because I know him.
“Don’t look back, Snow.”
Favors
STYX
I’m going to need a medic when I get to Paris.I think to myself as I glance out the window, more on edge than before. I’m pretty sure Officer Beyer was at the Rosa Negra when the gas exploded.
“I’m glad…” Snow whispers sleepily as she stares up at me. “That you didn’t want to kill me.”
I snort and reach out to hold her hand. “Not today.”
She snorts. “Funny… but I’m happy I get to know the real you.”
“The real me?” I ask and wrap my hand around her shoulders. “Did you know the fake me before?”
She lifts up the window screen to check out the runway and rests her head on my shoulder, but I had caught the delicate sweep of blush across her cheeks.
“You have to tell me. You can’t just glow up and keep your thoughts to yourself, Snow.”
“I can.” Her voice gets softer, drowsy. It’s seven in the morning, I’m sure the adrenaline of slipping out of Pink Street has finally worn off. The pill she asked the pilot for may also be the reason for that.
“Nope, never again. I like your brain too much not to know what goes on inside.”I have a feeling it’s a naughty little cage.
Her long eyelashes flutter closed and she shakes her head instead of responding. Exhausted Neve is almost as cute as Feisty Neve.
I reach for her hand and curl my fingers around her soft skin before bringing them to my lips. The whole ride to the airport, she was quiet, jumpy. Rightfully so, considering we left in theheatof the night, in a literal sense.
At my warm breath, a soft purr escapes her mouth and she pries one eye open. “My brain is complicated, Styx.” The half-smile quickly disappears, and her pitch softens again. “I’d stay out of it if I were you.”
My heart swells at the warning, nearly breaks at the unknown. Hating something I can’t reach, that hurt inside her, twists my gut up in knots. “It’s only a couple hours to France, Snow. I can always tease those answers out of you. I did bring a few toys with me.”
She giggles lightly and glances up at me while I nibble at her pulse. “I’m exhausted.”
So am I, and my wound is killing me. “I know, it’s the only thing holding me back. I’ve thought of tying you down to the armrests and blindfolding you, but—”
“Oh no,” she answers quickly. “It’s a great idea… but, for tomorrow,” she adds after the yawn.
