In a perfect world, Amelia would have shown up to the casino to celebrate her summer off. In a perfect world, I would have flirted with her and gotten her number the old-fashioned way. In a perfect world, I would have taken her on a proper date. Maybe kissed her at her door but waited until the second date to go inside.
But it wasn’t a perfect world, save for the professor in the cabin.
There was a stack of bumper stickers tucked in the bottom of the toolbox. I grabbed a few that sported slogans for protecting the forest and not starting wildfires and slapped them on the bumper. I snagged a blue-and-yellow decal that cheered on West Virginia University football and added it to the back window. The sandpaper was just rough enough to scratch up the paint.Maybe a dent in the door would look good.
By the time I was done, the interior had been cleaned of any receipts or litter that tied us to New Jersey or any of the states in between. The exterior sported a nice little dent in the side, new plates and bumper stickers, and sprays of mud that obscured some of the body. Around here, muddy trucks were a dime a dozen.
I walked the majority of the trail, covering the tire tracks with leaves and branches until I had hidden all traces that led to the cabin.
Delirium began to make my head swirl as I gathered wood and used the cabin’s axe to split and stack it so I’d have a stash to get the woodstove going.
Fighting the exhaustion of being awake for nearly forty-eight hours was growing harder and harder. I had done stretches like this before, but it had been a while. My body wasn’t asaccustomed to pushing through as it had once been. I didn’t have a team around me to keep me going when I wanted to give in and sleep.
Just the idea ofher.
I focused on the repetitive swing of the axe, the crack of the logs, and the sweat that streaked my face and neck.
I set the axe against the stump I had been splitting wood on and took a moment to just breathe. Once I was still enough, the birdsong returned.
It was the necessary reminder that the earth didn’t see me as a predator, no matter how much I believed it to be true.
When I’d first started with John Valentine, I had all these delusions that I could do my job and maintain my humanity. But with each speck of blood that had coated my hands over the years, I felt myself slipping more and more.
Nothing was shocking to me anymore. I should have left long ago, when it became normal.
Treating human beings as if they’re disposable should never be normal.
My hair was long and scraggly. Usually it didn’t bother me, but now that I was on the run, it was just inconvenient. I had lost my ponytail elastic when I had to chase Amelia down in the gas station parking lot, and now I cursed myself for not having a backup. I balled my hair in my hand and held it up, letting the breeze dance across the back of my neck.
Damn.I closed my eyes and breathed with the rhythm of the wind.That felt good.
“Do you need a ponytail?”
Adrenaline raced as I jerked in the direction of the cabin and found Amelia standing in the doorway. I hadn’t even heard her open the door, and that scared the shit out of me.
“What are you doing?” I rasped.
She lifted a willowy shoulder. “I dozed off and then woke up after I had this nightmare that I got kidnapped from a casino, trafficked across the country, and now I’m in a cabin that doesn’t have toilet paper.”
I blinked, then laughed. And God help me, I didn’t know why. I had burned my life and my identity for a girl who I couldn’t help but want to keep safe. “Toilet paper’s under the sink in the kitchen.”
Her smile was bashful as she slipped back into the cabin.
I split ten more pieces of wood before she appeared again. Amelia crept across the forest floor in that ridiculous sweatshirt and pants combo I had found for her.
I addedfind Amelia clothes and shoesto my mental to-do list.
She slipped a hair tie off her wrist and held it out. “I always have an extra one.”
Her kindness, even in the midst of fear and anger, wasn’t lost on me.
“Thanks,” I said as I took it from her and tied my hair back into a bun. Something so simple made me feel better instantly.
“You know, when I first saw you at the Four Horsemen, you had more of a motorcycle club vibe.” Amelia glanced down at my worn motorcycle boots, up my black jeans, to my black button-up and black coat. “I didn’t have you pegged as a lumberjack.”
“What can I say? I like the outdoors.”
She stuck her tongue out and pretended to gag.
