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Chapter Eighteen
Rhys doesn’t say anything.He folds the paper back up and tucks it in his pocket. After he cleans up our table and returns the trays to their station, he stops next to me, holding out his hand. I’m in a daze, unable to move. What. Just. Happened?
When I don’t make a move, he takes charge, grasps my hand, and pulls me out of the booth. Rhys only lets go of my hand when he deposits me into the passenger seat of the Defender and takes his place behind the wheel. His hand is back in mine as soon as we pull out of the parking spot.
I glance over, unsure what to make of all this. I’m so confused. How did this woman find us? All I can come up with is that Rhys did something when he disappeared for a while.
We check into a hotel,one of those chain places with free Wi-Fi and breakfast. I don’t pay attention to the name as Rhys handles all the logistics. The room is nicer than the motels from the last few nights. The beds have crisp white sheets. There is a double seater couch under the window on the far wall, and a big flat-screen TV across from the beds that is positioned on top of two adjoining dressers.
He leads me to the bed by the couch and gestures for me to sit. He still hasn’t said a word and just plops down across from me.
His elbows are resting on his thighs, and he rubs his hand over his face before finally looking at me. I mean, really looking at me. "We did it, Cal." His voice is low.
It feels weird to talk out loud after so much silence, and my question is no more than a whisper. "What did you do?"
He tells me about how he went to the ER, and how he left empty-handed, how he wanted to help me because he saw how upset I was. He didn’t think twice about the nurse that showed up at our table until...well, until she showed up at the table.
Rhys’s flight out of the hospital had me so distracted that I haven’t thought about what this note means for us—for me. There’s actually a chance to get answers.
"So, uh...this is good, right? Why are you acting so weird?" It should be good news, but his strange behavior also is starting to scare me.
His next words are more to himself. "It is, yeah. We know where to find Madeline Cross, but we also made your presence known. I guess, um...I guess my parents’ paranoia has rubbed off on me. I just have this weird feeling."
We lock eyes, and that sends a chill through my entire body. He is really worried.
Did we make a mistake?
Our evening routineis completed in silence. We’re both deep in thought, and Rhys is already in his bed when I walk out of the bathroom. He’s turned toward my side, the white comforter pulled up to his ears and his eyes closed. His facial features are tense, a clear indicator that he’s awake.
"Rhys?"
"Mhmm?" His response is mostly grumbled, and he doesn’t open his eyes.
I squat down right in front of him. My shadow falls over his face, and his eyes pop open, immediately zeroing in on mine.
I smile sheepishly and move back an inch. "Sorry."
Rhys raises one eyebrow in aperfectsemi-circle. It’s fascinating how he does that. I either raise both eyebrows or neither, but he has complete control of his features, and it makes him even more expressive. My cheeks heat at that thought.
Change of subject.
"I, um...without you, we’d be going home with nothing, but now we actually have a chance to talk to Madeline. So, uh, thanks."
His lips curve in a small smile, and he says softly, "I’d do anything to help you."
This entire trip, he’s been very careful to give me space, and not once has he mentioned his feelings for me. Besides the twobabes, that is. You’d think he is simply a good friend. But this response says it all. No more words are needed, and the fluttery sensation I’m starting to get familiar with stirs inside of me again. I move back to sit on my bed and take one more look. He has closed his eyes again, but this time, he is relaxed. I crawl under the covers and turn the light off before mirroring Rhys’s position.
The next morning,we enjoy the complimentary breakfast and are on our way to St. Louis by ten. Rhys has his phone plugged in, and various Linkin Park albums are playing over the speakers. I watch the landscape go by and think about the nurse, Margery. Was she there when I was brought in? Did she treat me? She clearly knew me and where I could find Madeline. The more I think about it, the more I understand why Rhys raced us out of there. But did she recognize me because Rhys mentioned Madeline, or did she recognize me for...well, me? He’s right; Heather and Tristen have made sure to keep me under the radar for so long, but this one encounter surely hasn’t caused any harm. Has it?
I’m still distracted when Rhys asks, "What do you want to do about New Year’s Eve? The chances of us finding your nurse that day are probably pretty slim."
I totally forgot about the date. It’s December twenty-ninth, and we won’t make it to St. Louis until the first. Dejected, I say, "Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t know. What do you think?"
"We have to be home by Friday afternoon. We can make it in fourteen hours with breaks from St. Louis. So, we have to leave sometime Thursday. That would give us at least two days there. Three, if we push it."
Listening to him list off our options, my throat constricts with guilt. Rhys is missing the ski trip with his best friend, and to top it off, he’ll spend New Year’s in some random hotel instead of hitting the slopes and partying.
Averting my eyes out the passenger window, I say, "You’re usually at a party." It really is more of an observation. I don’t expect a reaction to my statement, but when he doesn’t say anything for several minutes, I can’t stop myself from glancing over. His face is somber.
