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I can see Lila’s silhouette in the rear-view mirror, her face illuminated in the glow of the dashboard lights. I swallow hard, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Being with her, and caring for her, it’s like walking on a tightrope. One wrong move and I risk falling into a chasm of emotions I’ve spent my life avoiding. I try to push these thoughts to the back of my mind, focusing on the road ahead and the truck I need to dispose of.
Caring about someone is a concept so alien to me. I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember. My dad died when I was just a baby, and my mom chose the seductive allure of heroin over raising a four-year-old. Dumped at a foster home, I learned early to rely only on myself, to build walls around my heart. Now, every glance at Lila chips away at those walls, stirring something in me I don’t quite understand, a thrilling and terrifying sensation.
The lake emerges in the distance, its surface glistening under the vestiges of the day’s light. It’s eerily serene, starkly contrasting the turmoil within me.
I park close to the water’s edge, the crunch of gravel under the tires breaking the silence. Lila parks a little distance away.
Stepping out of the truck, the cool night air hits me. The crunch of gravel under my boots seems loud in the quiet stillness. I scan the area for a rock, large and heavy enough for my purpose.
From my peripheral vision, I see Lila step out of the other truck, her silhouette illuminated faintly by the moonlight. Without uttering a word, she joins me, her boots crunching on the gravel in rhythm with mine.
Finally, my fingers brush against the rough texture of a rock lodged in the ground. I pull at it, muscles straining, and it finally gives way.
“Get back in the truck, starlight,” I order.
Lila hesitates, her brow furrowing. “Ash, I can—” she starts.
But I cut her off. “Just get in the truck,” I repeat.
With a final glance in my direction, she nods and climbs back into the truck. I watch as she pulls the door shut.
Turning back to the task, I enter the bounty hunter’s vehicle. I turn over the engine, the rough purr of the motor coming to life.
I look down at the rock in my hand, its rough texture grounding me in this surreal moment. Carefully, I place it on the accelerator pedal, adjusting its position until I’m satisfied it will do the job.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and exit the vehicle. In a swift, practiced motion, I reach into the cab and shift the truck into drive. It jolts forward, crunching gravel beneath its tires fills the air. I jump out of the way, watching as the trucklumbers toward the lake, its headlights cutting through the night like twin beacons.
The truck picks up speed, its bulky frame swaying as it barrels toward the lake’s edge. Then, it plunges into the lake with a startling crash and a water spray.
I watch as the truck slowly sinks beneath the surface, the last of its lights winking out as it gets swallowed by the cold, dark depths.
The ripples on the water grow calmer, and soon, there’s nothing left to indicate the vehicle was ever there. All that remains is the still lake, its surface gleaming under the dusky sky.
I glance back at Lila, who watches the spectacle from the truck. Her expression is impossible to decipher. Turning my back on yet another mistake to add to a long, violent list, I walk back to her and get into the driver’s seat, placing a hand on her thigh and squeezing.
“We’ll drive a couple more hours and then sleep in the truck,” I announce. “Then we’ll only have a few more hours tomorrow morning until we reach our destination.”
“Are you going to tell me where exactly our destination is?”
“I own a cabin in the woods. Although it’s not registered in my name. It was my dad’s, and it remained in his name when he died. Some screw up with paperwork, meaning they shouldn’t trace it back to me.”
“Why are we going there?”
“Because it’s safe,” I respond, keeping my eyes fixated on the road ahead. My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I say, “And because we can start a life there together.”
After that, she doesn’t say anything, her gaze shifting toward the passing scenery. We drive in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
With Lila by my side, it feels as though I’ve been given a second chance. A chance to right the wrongs of my past or at least stop the violence and chaos I reap wherever I go.
17
ASH
As the sun rises, we venture further into the rustic trails that lead to the cabin. The wilderness is thick here. The air is rich with the scent of damp earth and pine. It’s a terrain with few intruders, its serenity only interrupted by the occasional rustle of wildlife.
The dense foliage muffles the truck’s engine. As we delve deeper into the woods, the boundary between civilization and wilderness blurs until it’s just us, the truck, and nature. The cabin is hidden in this labyrinth, a secret haven known only to me.
For a moment, I consider the implications of bringing Lila here to this isolated remnant of my past. But the reality of our situation leaves me no choice. As the truck cuts through the morning mist, the sight of the cabin emerges, a plume of smoke spiraling from the chimney into the cloudless sky.
