“Cross your legs,” I answer. Outside, the pine barrens stretch into a dark blur, nothing but towering trees and endless night. There’s nowhere to stop.
Her eyes narrow in the mirror. “If you don’t pull over, I will pee all over this backseat.”
“You wanna take a leak in the middle of these creepy-ass woods?”
“In the creepy woods or in this car, your choice,” she threatens.
Bridger turns to me, his voice edged with exasperation. “Stop the damn car. Come on, bro.”
I exhale sharply and pull onto the shoulder. The road is empty, nothing but an abyss of trees swallowing the headlights. No houses. No streetlights. Just the kind of place bodies go missing. I don’t know any woman who would willingly walk out into something like that alone.
The lock clicks, and she’s gone. The door flies open, the dashboard screaming in protest.
Bridger folds his arms. “What. The. Fuck?”
My teeth grind together. “She’s the one from last night.”
Bridger lets out a laugh, leaning a hand on the dash. “Say what now?”
“Yeah. Exactly.” The door open chime dings insistently, hammering into my skull. It’s so fucking annoying.
“The one that got away . . .”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We just had really great?—”
“No, Damian,” he interrupts, a dry laugh slipping out. “She’s actually getting away.” He points out the window.
Fuck.
If she gets away . . . if I don’t get that money . . .fuck!
Bridger smirks. “Maybe try being nicer? You couldn’t shut up about her all damn day.”
“Maybe you should shut up.”
I yank on the handle and shove the door open. My boots hit the damp ground with a loud, wet squelch. I don’t bother closing the door behind me. Instead, I surge forward, the cold night airbiting at my skin. The towering pines loom overhead, their scent thick and almost suffocating.
In the distance, Marlowe is just a thin, moving shadow, swallowed by the darkness. I push harder, breaking into a full sprint. Dry leaves crunch underfoot, brittle twigs snapping beneath my weight. The ground is unforgiving, a tangled mess of uneven earth. Gnarled roots snag at my ankles, and low branches scrape across my face. I barely register the sting.
I don’t take my eyes off her. Not for a second.
She zigzags between the spindly tree trunks, her movements quick but desperate. Her ragged breaths cut through the night, loud enough that it feels like she’s right beside me.
And then . . . nothing.
She vanishes.
I skid to a stop, my heart thundering against my ribs. Panic coils tight in my gut, unfamiliar and unwelcome. I shove it down. I could turn around right now, leave her here, hop on the plane to Vegas. I could track down where Vick’s place is on my own, no problem.
But do I want to leave her out her, alone in the woods at night? Or worse, leave her to deal with Joel? There’s a small part of me that wants her to be innocent in all this, but there’s a bigger part of me that knows she probably isn’t.
Somewhere behind me, Bridger slams the car doors shut. An eerie silence settles over the forest. The kind that prickles at the back of your neck, warning you that you’re not welcome.
Moonlight filters through the dense trees, casting long, skeletal shadows. Then I catch a glimpse of movement. A pale silhouette flickers against the darkness. My breath frosts in the cold air as I push forward, closing the distance between us.
She’s stopped running.
She’s huddled on the ground, barely more than a heap of trembling limbs.
