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“We should get going.”
His eyes flutter open and he blushes, suddenly realizing how he too had allowed himself to get swept in the fantasy of it all.
"Of course," he says, pulling away and lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as he takes a few deep breaths. But let’s enjoy the peace while we can.”
Peace. I almost laugh at the thought. There will be no peace for us. Not as long as my father and his are involved.
I turn to my side to face him. His eyes are half-lidded, gaze warm and sleepy. My heart skips a beat at the sight.
This is wrong. Being with him like this. Feeling this way about him.
I place my hands on the floor and stand up. “We need to leave. Now.”
Anthony’s eyes snap open, all traces of sleepiness gone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I turn my back to him as I stand, already missing his warmth.
“We just can’t stay in one place for long, remember?”
“Right.” He stands with a sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.
“I’ll start packing up the camp and then we can head to Montana.”
We work in silence, efficiently dismantling our small campsite.
Within minutes, we’re on the road again, trees and sunlight whipping past the windows.
Anthony glances at me from the driver’s seat, brows pinched.
“You’re quiet this morning.”
“Just thinking.” I stare out the window, watching the world rush by.
“About how we can’t keep running forever.”
“We won’t have to.” His fingers brush against mine before linking our hands together in encouraging fervour.
“Once we get to the safe house, we’ll have a plan in place."
A way out.
The thought fills me with equal parts hope and sorrow.
I want to escape this run on the road, but even our plan in place would simply mean that we get to go back to the world of organized crime, where we will be better protected.
A nicer prison, if you will.
And that, I realize with a pang, is something I just don't want to do, no matter how scared I am of my father or how much I want to believe Anthony is one of the good guys.
I just can't see the silver lining.
Tired of all the thoughts running through my mind, I fall asleep.
Three hours later, I surface from my nap, feeling slightly sick.
"Have you been driving this whole time?" I ask, worried about Anthony.
He has his eyes on the road, alert as ever.
