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Marco’s hands ball into fists. “Okay, not your apartment. So, what? We get you a hotel for a couple nights—”
“No!”
His eyebrows spike.
No way are a couple of nights enough. Besides, “I can’t use my credit card. It’s…they’re joint accounts. My parents’ names are still on them.”
I think he almost rolls his eyes. “And that’s a problem why?”
Yes, sarcasm definitely tinges the question. I choose to let it pass. “Because they can log in online and see where I’ve been.Am. Track me. You know Tripp will.” I challenge him to deny it.
Marco is quiet for a considerable length of time. “Annalise…”
“I can’t handle that right now! Seeing them…” Them knowing. “And don’t even suggest I go home and don’t tell them. They’ll take one look at me and know something’s wrong.”
“But they’re your family. They’d want to be there for you."
“I’m not ready, Marco. I can’t. Not yet.”
I think back to last week, to those days with Marco before all heck broke loose. I think he’s typically a pretty chill guy, the kind with a smart line for everything. But I also think I’m testing his patience here. He’s sighed a half dozen times in the last five minutes. “What about…Dallas?”
I can’t believe I just said that. I pray he won’t read things into my desperation.
His green eyes round, and then, settling against the door, he stares me down. “You don’t watch much news, do you?”
“What?” I must have missed a segue somewhere.
His gaze goes to the windshield. “Never mind. But Dallas is out of the question. I’m not going back there myself.”
For a minute, it sounds as if Marco has troubles, secrets, of his own. But don’t we all?
The car with the old man and his plant drives away. I study my hands in between surreptitious glances at Marco, who’s gnawing the inside of his cheek.
Dumping myself on him this way is unforgivable.
One more sigh and he puts the truck in gear, checks his mirror, and pulls out.
“Where are we going?”
“I have no idea, Annalise. No idea at all.”
CHAPTER 16
Marco
Okay, so I lied. I do have an idea where I’m driving us—I’m just not sure if it’s a good idea.
Scratch that. I knowfor certain it is a bad idea indeed. But it’s all I’ve got at the moment, which, by default, also makes it the best one I’ve got.
Funny, I get the distinct impression that Annalise does not care one whit where we go as long as it’s nowhere her family, the people who I assume love her unconditionally, will find her. Something is wrong with this picture.
I get the flight instinct, especially concerning Tripp, who, I’ve come to realize, can be a world-class jerk. In fairness, he does adore his sister, so my real concern, if he knew, would be for the rat Kyle—and I’m not concerned about him in the least.
But she’s right about one thing. Anyone who loves her would take one look and know she’s in bad shape. Or recently has been. I keep reassuring myself that the doctors knew what they were doing when they discharged her, but frankly, it’s a challenge. I’m finding it difficult to believe this is the same girl—woman—I met a mere week ago. The one sitting beside me now is a shell of the other. Thin and pale. Huffing and puffing at the slightest exertion.
I don’t understand the desperation, but that’s what she must feel ifIwas her first phone call.
Two weeks ago I would have read into her suggestion of going to Dallas with me, but now that I know her better, the thought never crosses my mind. It does, however, make me wonder what other signals, with other women, I may have misread.
