I found an old F150 and some fuel in the neighbor’s shed. It didn’t drive well. The fuel had long expired. I don’t know how, but the demon in the library must have been sending us some good juju after the performance we gave it, because the F150 kicked over like a dream. For a while at least. It got us to the next town, a few hours down the highway, before it met its maker.
The small town of Brunswick gave us everything we needed. A place to break into and shower, a fresh change of clothes that actually fit me, new supplies for our go-bag, a stack of cash fromsomeone’s unlocked safe, and a brand-new Honda with a full tank of fuel that will blend in with city life like a dream.
I almost feel bad. We raided Brunswick like we had nothing to lose. Fresh bread. Snacks. Fruit. Water. And most importantly, coffee. I haven’t had a good coffee in years. At Hartley Creek, there was limited availability, and after a fatal brawl over the shit, coffee was considered contraband, and we never saw it again. Not anymore. My newfound freedom has given me the world; the only problem is reality.
I can’t go back to Hartley Creek. It’s not even because of the prison life. I really didn’t mind it. I kept to myself, stayed away from the truly vile men. I was there to bide my time and nothing more. But now that I’m out and have Riley right where she’s always belonged, I’m not giving that up again. I failed her once, but it won’t happen again. Especially not now that I know how it feels to sink deep inside her.
I’m addicted. That sweet cunt has become my greatest obsession. I live and breathe by everything that is Riley Maddox. As for Aria Ashford, I’m still trying to figure her out. She’s different. Aria has lived in a world where her biggest threat was Janette from the office. She didn’t need to learn how to survive. She didn’t remember how it felt to go hungry or live in constant fear of losing everything you love. Aria has a different perspective on life, but as she slowly regains her memories, her perspective is starting to change. My Riley is returning to me.
As we sail through the city, my gaze flicks around at everything I left behind. This was our home for a while, but I don’t have good memories of this place. This is where I lost Ash, where he fell in with the wrong crowd and became someone I didn’t recognize. We only lived here for a year, but it was the biggest mistake of my life. To be back here again . . . It feels wrong.
“What’s the matter?” Aria asks, her gaze sweeping over me before looking back out the window, not wanting to pry, but Iknow she’s desperate for answers. That’s just the way she is. She can’t help herself.
“Just don’t have good memories of this place,” I tell her, driving for a few more minutes before pulling up outside a factory and nodding toward it. “That’s where you were taken. Where everything changed. It’s different now. Been rebuilt, but I almost lost you in there.”
She sits up straighter in her seat, grasping the dashboard and the side of her chair as she twists around to get a better look. “That’s it?” she asks, her brows furrowed as she takes it in. It looks like a printing facility now, nothing at all like the abandoned building it once was.
“Mm-hmm.”
Aria shakes her head and purses her lips. “I don’t remember it,” she tells me. “I don’t remember any of this city.”
“These aren’t the kind of memories you want to get back. Be grateful you have no recollection of what happened here. With Ash . . . It wasn’t easy. Every day was a struggle, and we had no choice but to leave him behind. This is where he wanted to be.”
“What happened once we left?”
“Same as what always happened,” I tell her, reaching across the center console and squeezing her thigh. “We started a new life, and I took care of you.”
Aria goes quiet for a moment, and I know she still has so many questions about what went down, but she hesitates, not sure if she’s able to push the topic. I haven’t responded well to anything that involved Ash, but the dynamic between us is shifting, and I don’t feel the need to hold back so much. Not anymore. “I just . . . I don’t understand how it happened,” she says, clasping my hand. “If we had moved away and Ash stayed here, then how did I end up in that basement?”
I tip my head back against the headrest, unease growing in my chest. “Because I fucked up,” I tell her, ready to own it. “Everynow and then, Ash would get himself in trouble and seek us out. Because no matter what changed between us, we were still his safe place. He’d come chill with us for a few days, lay low until the storm settled, and then we’d wake up in the morning to find him gone. This time was no different. He’d pissed off the wrong man and sought us out, but it felt different. I didn’t like the way he looked at you, but it was Ash, and I trusted that he loved you like a brother should, that no matter what, he’d protect you the way I’d taught him to.”
“What happened?”
“Gang life happened,” I explain. “It changed who he was at his core. I was going to be working late, and he suggested that you come out to a party with him. I didn’t like it, but you were seventeen and knew more about survival than anyone your age should have had to know. I knew you’d be alright, so I let you go.”
“There was no party, was there?”
I shake my head. “No. The second he had you alone, it was over.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I say, hitting the gas and pulling away from the curb, more than ready to get away from here. Hell, more than ready to get away from the whole fucking city. I don’t like it one bit. I’m too vulnerable here, and if I’m vulnerable, then Aria is too.
I’m here to do a job. Get in, get out. And the moment it’s done, the second every face on my Polaroid kill list is dealt with, Aria and I will be out of here and never look back. Assuming she wants that. She could stay in the city, or return to her home across the state, where she’s already built a life for herself, but I see the way she looks at me, the way her eyes light up every time she regains just a fraction of her memories. She’s not going anywhere. She’ll be right here by my side until the day we die. There’s no question about it.
Driving through the city, I stick to the outskirts where the apartment buildings are covered in graffiti. Windows are broken, and residents hover out on the streets, minding their own business. I keep driving until I see a for lease sign posted in a window, and a grin kicks up the corner of my lips.
Bingo.
“Home sweet fucking home.”
“Where are we?” Aria asks as I pull up on the curb. “Are you sure this is safe? There are people everywhere. Someone might recognize you.”
“Look around. The guy over by the corner store is dealing drugs. There are homeless people on the street. A woman selling herself. And two kids in the alley beating the shit out of someone. No one cares around here. This is exactly where we need to be.”
Aria sighs and reaches for one of the many bags we’ve managed to accumulate over the past few days. “Shit.”
Getting everything we need, we make our way toward the apartment complex as I glance up at the for lease sign, counting which floor the apartment is on. It’s probably not going to be great, and we might only get a few days before someone realizes we’re squatting, but our alternative is finding an abandoned building that isn’t currently being used by kids looking to get fucked up. Besides, after almost a week on the run, nothing compares to running water, even if it means sleeping on the floor. Having complete access to a kitchen and bathroom is priceless, and I’m not about to pass that up.
