Lenny’s breath catches. “Wren, no. You can’t—”
“I can and I fucking will,” I snarl, cutting him off. My fist clenches around the cigarette, crushing it. “And Lenny? You’re gonna trust me on this.”
Lenny’s face crumples. He looks like that scared kid again, the one I used to protect from Dad’s rages. “What… what do we do now?”
I toss the mangled cigarette away. “We fly to Chicago tomorrow.”
“Chicago?” Lenny’s voice cracks. “That’s suicide, Wren.
I turn away, gripping the railing. The old wood groans under my hands. “Pack light. We leave at dawn.”
“And Lexi Bear?” Lenny asks quietly.
“He’s coming with us,” I say, “Can’t leave him here alone.”
Lenny nods, his face grim. “I’ll go pack his stuff.”
64
Wren
I’m fucking doing this for Em. And I’m not going to let some crazy bitch and psycho Russian motherfuckers ruin everything.
I jam the key into the lock, juggling the backpack on my shoulder. The door sticks because of course it fucking does. I shoulder it open, nearly stumbling into the room.
The motel door creaks open, hitting us with a wave of stale air and cheap disinfectant. Lenny grimaces, shifting Alex on his hip.
“Home sweet home,” I mutter, tossing our bags onto the nearest bed. The springs groan in protest.
Lenny sets Alex down, and he immediately toddles over to the TV, his teddy bear dragging behind him. “TV, Momma! TV!”
“Not now, Lexi Bear,” I say, ruffling his hair. “How about some coloring instead?”
Alex pouts but plops down on the threadbare carpet, hugging his bear close. Lenny digs out his coloring books and crayons, spreading them out in front of him.
I survey our luxurious accommodations. Two sagging beds, a TV that’s probably older than me, and a bathroom I’m scared to look at.
“Wren,” Lenny says, his voice low. “What’s the plan here?”
I pull out the wad of cash Wendy shoved at me before we left. Three grand. It’s not much, but it’s something. Wendy didn’t even ask why; just looked at me with those knowing eyes and told me to stay safe. Good people are rare in this world. I’m gonna miss that old broad.
“First things first,” I say, pocketing the cash. “We need burner phones. Can’t risk using our own. Elena’s probably got them tapped six ways to Sunday.”
Lenny nods, his eyes darting to Alex. “And then?”
“Then we figure out how to get Em back without getting our asses killed in the process.”
Alex looks up, crayon in hand. “Momma, hungry.”
Right. Food.
“I’ll go grab some grub,” Lenny offers. “You want the usual heart attack special?”
I nod, tossing him some cash. “Get something for the kid, too. Something that won’t give him diabetes before he hits puberty.”
Lenny pockets the money, his hand hesitating on the doorknob. “Wren, you sure about this? Maybe I should—”
“Just go,” I cut him off but soften my tone when I see Alex’s head perk up. “We need food, and you’re less likely to be recognized. Just… keep your eyes open, yeah?”
