“It’s about you.” Translation felt necessary even though he probably already guessed. “The manhunt. They’re still searching.”
Opened the article. Scanned the text.
Suspect recherché en lien avec un incident au bord de la rivière. Armé et dangereux. Le public est invité à ne pas approcher.
Suspect wanted in connection with the incident at the river. Armed and dangerous. Public advised not to approach.
Armed and dangerous. Fantastic. I’m harboring an armed and dangerous suspect. Except he’s not armed. And currently more in danger of dying than being dangerous. Details.
“They think you’re connected to ‘an incident at the river.” I met his stare. “They’re calling you armed and dangerous.”
No reaction. Just that flat, expressionless mask.
“Do you remember anything? About the river? About what happened?”
Slight shake. Certain.
Nothing. He remembered nothing.
The article continued with descriptions, vague, useless. Generic height and build that could match half the men in the area. But they had his blood type from the scene. Had evidence he’d been there.
Had probably found the blood trail leading away.
Set the phone down carefully. Forced my breathing steady.
“They’re looking. Actively. But the snow covered our tracks, and this neighborhood isn’t exactly high on their priority list.”
For now. Until they expanded the search grid. Until someone saw something, remembered something.
Until we ran out of time.
Xavier’s expression shifted. Something hardening behind his features. Decision crystallizing.
He was already shifting his weight, testing his legs.
“What are you doing?”
His hand moved. Chest, then outward. Clear gesture.
Leaving. He was leaving.
“The hell you are.” I moved between him and the door without thinking. “You can barely sit up.”
His gaze locked on mine. Flat. Certain.
“They’re looking for you. Which means staying here puts me at risk.” My heart hammered, fear and fury mixing. “Youthink leaving solves that? You think bleeding out in an alley is somehow better?”
Nothing. Just that infuriating determination.
“You don’t even know who you are. Don’t know what happened. Don’t know if you’re running from something or someone.”
Still unmoved. Still planning to walk out into a manhunt with nothing but my borrowed clothes and zero answers.
“Fine. You want to leave? After we deal with the head injury.”
That got his attention. Wariness bleeding through determination.
“Free clinic not too far from here. I volunteer there, I have a key. After hours, no one around. One X-ray. That’s all I’m asking.”
