Adria: Something happened, we need a place to lie low.
X: We?
Adria: We have the boys. Long story. Jonathan’s dead.
…
Adria focused on the soft glow of her phone. The group had left her and Bryson to rest. An hour or so ago he had started shivering so Adria had crawled into bed next to him—too close, too intimate—but couldn’t bring herself to move away. She watched his breathing, shallow but steady, wondering if saving him now only meant losing him later. The covers were pulled over their heads, keeping them cocooned in an illusion of safety.
She watched the three dots as X decided his response.
X: Come down to me.
Adria let out the breath she had been holding. X was the only person she knew of that had successfully eluded the Nine. Her fingers moved quickly on the screen.
Adria: How long would the journey be? What airports would we be looking for?
X responded with a two-part flight itinerary, Sinaloa then Curitiba Paraná.
X: You need to land at Sinaloa first. You’ll need official paperwork to leave the country. After that, money can grease the wheels.
Adria’s lips pressed into a line. How was she supposed to get those? Anyone she reached out to could be a death sentence if the Triune found out.
“Hey, beautiful,” Bryson’s soft voice cut through her thoughts.
She turned, her phone’s glow lighting up the small space between them. His face looked tired, but the smile that stretched across him caused her to reach out and brush his cheek without thinking.
“You look like shit,” she said.
He gave her a soft chuckle. “You should see the other guy.”
Adria didn’t miss the flicker of something dark behind his warm expression. She turned on her side to fully face him, hand still on his cheek. The two just lay there, breathing.
After a moment, her phone light blinked off and her and Bryson fell into a soft darkness, beneath the blanket.
“I thought I lost you,” his voice whispered between them.
“I’m here,” she said.
The voices continued in the other room, soft but urgent.
“What are they arguing about over there?” Bryson asked.
Adria dropped her hand and sighed. “Next steps I suppose.”
He laughed.
“What?”
She felt the bed shift and the heat of his body moved impossibly closer. “No point in arguing. I’m sure you already have a plan mapped out.”
His fingers grazed her hand, and she almost jumped.
“I do, but it’s not as solid as I would like.”
“I’m sure it’s good.”
Adria’s mind turned over who she could risk asking for flight papers and she trailed her hand along the white bandage on Bryson’s chest.
