He gives me a smile so sad it forms a fissure across my heart. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Maybe it can be.”
He shakes his head, nuzzling closer. “This is anything but simple, darling. We can’t let anyone find out. You know what they’ll do to us.”
“I know,” I whisper, and he tilts his face up to mine. “We’re lucky I plowed into you instead of touching hands like normalpeople. No one has a reason to look at us there. The marks will be easy to hide.”
“Do you really think it’ll be okay?”
I press another kiss on his lips. “I think we’ll make it okay. Together.”
Xeni
Steam rolls from underneath the crumpled hood of the SUV. It might as well be a smoke signal out here in the middle of the wilderness. The urge to scream or kick the tires is nearly unbearable, though somehow, I manage. I do, however, allow a lengthy string of pissed-off curses to roll from my throat and feel marginally better afterward.
My fingers shove through my hair and tug as I close my eye and draw a few long inhales. A rising temper bites at my insides, but it won’t help to let it take over. Losing my head does no good.
After I’ve quelled the rage, at least for now, I pull my map from the glove compartment. Out here, everything looks the same. Dust, dirt, and the occasional pocket of trees. I’ve not done enough travelling to be familiar with any of the landmarks.
I glance again at the smoke curling lazily from under the hood, thin gray wisps rising like defeated sighs into the dry air.Driving it had been a gamble from the start, and I lost that bet by a landslide.
August’s accusation echoes in my head. Self-sabotage, he’d called it. He wasn’t wrong; that part stings with truth.
But it’s only half the story.
The other half is messier, tangled in things I don’t say out loud.
Despite what people think—what they’vealwaysthought—I’m not the cold, arrogant bastard they paint me as.
I used to be, sure.
That fact is well-documented and permanently etched in a history I can’t erase.
Part of me despises that old version of myself, but the other part misses the freedom that came from that careless attitude. It made everything so much simpler.
Life is easier when you don’t notice the invisible scales tipping with every choice you make. Good on one side, selfish on the other.
A quick look at my past shows which way mine would swing.
Ditching a reliable ride for this wheezing relic felt like another clumsy attempt at tipping those scales back toward something better. A piss-poor penance, maybe, but it was something.
Karma has a cruel sense of humor, though. My half-hearted bid at redemption has left me broken down with two hundred miles to go. I kick at the gravel, watching dust swirl around my boots as I accept my current situation.
Stranded, alone, and exactly where I deserve to be.
My mechanical knowledge is scarce, limited to what I might need to perform my duties. Listening to Sprocket rattle on has given me some boosts here and there, but this isn’t some small gadget she’s invented.
It’s a whole-ass vehicle.
The clank from the latch seems louder than it should be, and steam scalds my face as the damaged hood squeals open. I hold it there, staring down at the motor like I have any idea what I’m doing.
I search for something obvious, some glaring neon sign that points at what’s wrong, but there’s nothing besides rubber belts and dirt caked metal.
The coolant reservoir is low. That’s the one fucking thing I know for certain, so I fill it with some of my limited water, though it's likely in vain.
The sun is hot despite the mild weather we’ve had lately, and this half-assed attempt to cool the overheated vehicle is probably pointless.
After a few minutes, I crank it again. The engine turns over, but it runs hard. Limping it along will only cause more damage, so I drive towards a cluster of trees. I’d rather hide it than abandon it in the open. At least there’s a possibility of coming back to retrieve it.
