“Like what?”
“Like you’re tempting fate. Like we’re safe when we’re anything but. Shit, man. What if you just jinxed us?”
“Jinxing is something kids worry about. It’s not real, Jay.”
“Do you know that for sure? Because I sure as shit don’t.”
He doesn’t say anything else until we’re pulling up to the house, Trips’ car missing.
Clara will be home soon. Thank goodness.
Walker turns to me. “I won’t let him have her.”
“Trips?”
“His dad. And maybe that means Trips too. I don’t know right now.”
“I feel that. I’m not giving her up either.”
“If it comes down to running, could you do that? Leave Evie and your mom and disappear?”
My stomach drops, but I know the answer the second he finishes asking. “It’s the last thing I’d want to do, but yeah. If I had to, I would.”
“Start your goodbyes. Quietly.”
“Are you doing that?”
His face falls. “I’m hoping we make it to Lunar New Year. I can say my goodbyes then and it won’t raise any flags.”
“Do you have papers for us?”
“I’m working on them. Passports are fiddly assholes. Especially when you have to learn more than one country’s designs. But I’m getting closer. Close enough for RJ to find supplies, at least.”
“More than one country’s designs?”
“How do you feel about being Canadian? RJ got good identities for us both from there.”
Swallowing down my fear, I shrug. Canadian? At least I look the part. Then I force a grin on my face, not liking how heavy everything has been lately. “I’ll get you a handsome mug of me. I don’t want my new identity to be saddled with a photo where I look like I’m a serial killer.”
A smirk creases his face, and we both hop out of the car. “Challenge accepted. Serial killer photo for Jansen.”
I shove him, and he stumbles, laughing.
“Jerk.”
Carrying the stuff to the house, I’m a little lighter. Not better, not by a long shot, but maybe today will be a good day. We’re owed one at this point.
The universe can give us that, at least.
Chapter 21
Clara
Learning self-defense while hungover isn’t something I’d recommend to anyone. Although, if I get through this, as shitty as I feel, then at least I know I’ll be able to keep myself safe in less-than-ideal situations and not just when I’m in peak form.
Having Trips watch from the sidelines makes my skin tingle, and I struggle to pay attention to RJ. The brute hasn’t looked at me all week, and now I can feel his gaze hot against my skin, like I’m sitting too close to a bonfire. But every time I turn to catch his eye, he’s investigating his pants, or staring at the rack of practice swords.
We go through all the things we practiced last time, my knees and elbows tight and pointy, the snap of the pads making me feel more powerful than it probably should. RJ even lets me practice a few punches, knowing that I haven’t been wandering intoTrips’ room this week at all. Not that I haven’t woken up. But I’m working on falling back asleep instead of letting the terror win.
