I give it a second before I answer.“We run.”
She swallows again, this time harder, as if she has something lodged in her throat.I take her hand in mine.
“I wish there was another way.I wish we didn’t have to, but I don’t see what choice we have.”
Hayami winces like she’s in pain, and I wonder if she’s not only thinking about us but the danger this poses to Willa and her new family.But I can’t think about Willa now.Hayami is my priority.Has always been my priority.
It feels like an eternity before she nods and squeezes my hand.
“I’m sorry,” she says at last, her eyes pooling into watery swirls.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell her, squeezing her hand back.
“This is all my fault.If I hadn’t sent Willa away, if I’d just kept quiet and done as I was told, then we wouldn’t be here.”
“You seem to forget the reason why we’re here in the first place,” I say, reminding her of my culpability in all of this.“And if you hadn’t sent Willa away, she would have missed the birth of her child, and we’d still be sitting here under the authority of your father, and you’d still be on the path to having your life auctioned off.This way, at least we might have a chance.And that has to be worth something.”
She nods, and something cracks in my chest.She doesn’t want to run.I don’t want her tohaveto run.Running isn’t living.It’s surviving, and that’s all she’s ever done.Survived.Until it was too hard to even do that.
I pull her into me, and she rests her head against my chest.Smoothing down her hair, I ask, “Are you with me?”
There’s a beat, a second where I doubt her answer, worry that it won’t be the one I want to hear, and then she speaks.“I’m with you.”
Unsure whether I’m relieved or just shit scared, I hold her head.
“Good, because we have to be out of this house by nightfall.”
She tenses, and I feel bad because I’ve reminded her that her father isn’t the only thing we’re now running from.It seems that everyone is out to get us.But I know who I’m more afraid of.
We decide to try and rest whilst the snow still rages.I want to get moving, clear the car and the drive and get packed up, but I haven’t slept in so long.But as we lie on the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, I hope Hayami isn’t thinking the same thoughts as me, which is that this whole thing is fucking hopeless.
We have no money on us.I’ll have to stop at a cashpoint to withdraw as much as I can, which Devall will know about.Hayami said she’ll take all the money she has out of her account, which I pointed out will probably be frozen by her father the minute he suspects that something isn’t right.
The Jeep has a tracking device, which I’ll disable.But even so, it won’t take Devall long to alert his people to be on the lookout for it, so we’ll have to change vehicles, which will probably mean stealing one.That’ll mean we won’t just have him on our case but the police as well.
And there’s our appearance.Hayami will be able to change how she looks.But me?How the fuck am I going to hide all my scars?
All this comes before we even try to find somewhere to hide.And even if we do manage to slip through the net, how long will it be before it closes in again?How will it feel to spend every day looking over our shoulders—for the man who, if I’m lucky, will put a bullet in my brain, and who will, in the blink of an eye, snatch his daughter away?
Hayami was right that day when she said there’s no running from a man like Barrett Devall.
I hold her tighter.It’s cruel—I’ve only just got her, after all the waiting, watching, and longing—only for it to be cut short.I have no illusion that this plan will work.
We’re fucked.
* * *
HAYAMI
We’re on the bed, holding on to each other as if we’re on theTitanicand the water is rushing into the cabin.And it’s awful to think that I’d prefer that.Death would be the better option right now.
I’ve never been afraid of dying.
I’ve always been afraid of my father.
He’ll find us.Fenrir knows it too.I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, feel it through the tightness of his embrace.
And he’ll kill Fenrir.It’ll be slow, painful, the worst way to die, and it’ll be my fault.
