But I didn’t.
The sun hadn’t started to set, but it was close. By the time we made it out of the woods and onto the road, we’d be blanketed under the cover of darkness.
Neither of us spoke as the journey began.
We didn’t listen to the radio.
Silence and melancholy were our constant companions as we traversed West Virginia and crossed the state line into Ohio. We stopped at a little gas station outside of Dayton for fuel and bathroom breaks.
I didn’t run this time. The thought didn’t even cross my mind. Jude didn’t wait outside the ladies’ room door like a jailer.
He knew I’d come right back to him.
We snacked on protein bars for breakfast between Dayton and Indianapolis but kept on driving in total silence.
The sun began to rise as we crossed through Lafayette, Indiana. I was exhausted, but sleep was a flighty lover—teasing me with a gentle caress, never sticking around.
Jude reached across the cab, took my hand in his, then brought it to his lips and kissed it. “It’s almost over.”
I didn’t know if he meant the situation with John Valentine or us. Either way, I didn’t let his hand go.
I wasn’t at all surprised when Jude pulled into a long-term parking lot outside of O’Hare. My voice was raspy from disuse when I asked, “Are you blowing up this car too?”
He chuckled. “Hopefully not. Cole knows where it’ll be if I can’t come back to move it.”
The thought that Jude might not come back made bile rise into my throat.
I opened my mouth to argue with him—to start planning another way out—when Jude squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about me, little fox.”
I swallowed. “Easier said than done.”
“Amelia—”
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I squeezed his hand back. “I care. Okay? I’m sorry, but I do. I know I’m not supposed to, but I think I?—”
Jude blinked at me like I was a figment of his imagination. Then, I was in his arms. He pulled me across the bench seat into a backbreaking hug. He cradled my head in his palm and pressed his cheek to my temple, breathing heavily as if I was the life preserver that kept him from going under. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him too.
He didn’t kiss me.
He held me like he needed to.
“I don’t want you to leave me like you left the military.” I looked up at him. “What you did—saving me. Saving Joel—it mattered.” My eyes stung with unshed tears. “You matter. To me.”
Jude’s throat constricted as he swallowed and nodded. He opened his mouth, the corners of his lips trembling as he suckedin a breath, but he couldn’t form the words. Whatever he had been about to say vanished. He held me closer and buried his head in the crook of my neck. “You matter to me. A lot.” The words were muffled, but the meaning was crystal clear.
Tiredness overcame me. Snuck in as I sank into his chest. Jude held me a moment longer, then kissed the top of my head. “We need to keep moving. We’ll sleep on the train.”
We cleared out the truck, each shouldering a backpack. Jude handed me a thrift-store wallet that had my new ID and a little petty cash. He was carrying the bulk of the money we had fled Atlantic City with. We’d been frugal over the last two weeks, not spending more than necessary so we had as much to gamble with as possible. Thankfully, Cole had the eighty thousand I had already won safely stored away.
. . . Wherever he was.
We took the Blue Line to Union Station, where we boarded the Southwest Chief that would take us to Arizona.
Whoever booked the tickets for us had sprung for a roomette, giving us a chance to lay down and sleep as much as possible along the trip. The biggest bonus, in Jude’s opinion, was that it kept us away from prying eyes. For the next thirty-five hours, we’d hunker down, sleep, and strategize.
The attendants hadn’t blinked twice when they checked my ticket or ID. Jude had used the name I went by at the Four Horsemen for my new ID to keep things simple. For all they knew, I really was Angela. Hopefully, Vegas would buy it too.
Jude didn’t waste any time in turning our two seats into bunk beds. He had to be exhausted. I went to take the top bunk, but he stopped me with a hand around my waist. “Sleep with me.”
