“She always got what she wanted. Always.”
I swallowed, the revolt churning inside of me. Clearly this wasn’t the first time Billy’s mom had “turned him in.” Wallace was more than family to Billy. Wallace had saved his life. Or maybe they had both saved each other.
“I just wish my cat didn’t have to die, you know?” he said, by way of an apology.
The truck turned, and we all held on until it was righted. The pace picked up. The whir of the tires on the road made it hard to concentrate on anything but the danger outside.
“We’re getting on the highway,” said Chase.
When Billy’s head fell, I placed my arm over his shoulders. Tentatively, like I’d once seen Wallace do. Billy didn’t make a sound. I think I was the only one who knew he was crying.
THE minutes passed, each lacing my muscles more tightly together. It was exhausting to be so on-edge, so powerless.
In the dim glow of the flashlight I could see the shadowed outlines of my companions. Billy, curled into a ball on the floor, fast asleep. Chase, hunched over his knees. Tucker, shifting positions every few minutes, unable to sit still. Which was more dangerous? The killer inside this box, or outside?
A half hour passed and my neck began to cramp. I rolled my head on my shoulders. We ran out of water, and the friction inside my throat felt like sandpaper.
An hour. No one wanted to jinx us, but collectively we’d begun thinking we might be in the clear after all.
As my breathing grew less shallow, I became excruciatingly aware of the sharp scents of sweat and blood and heavy smoke that filled the truck. With such little ventilation, the stifling air made me nauseous. I leaned against the cool metal walls, letting the reverberations from the road rattle my bones.
A plan began to take shape. Tubman would meet us at the checkpoint, but we weren’t going to the safe house. Rebecca was still somewhere in Chicago and I couldn’t rest until she was found. I wasn’t sure how Chase was going to take the news, but he wouldn’t be able to change my mind. He, of all people, knew the importance of keeping promises. He’d promised my mother he’d find me, after all.
I stared at Tucker, wondering what he would do. He’d fooled the others; he wasn’t the dream recruit Wallace and Sean had talked about. I couldn’t imagine him fighting against the precious organization he’d been so proud to be a part of. No, he was only out for himself, to progress in rank, to shoot down anyone who got in his way, and it seemed a terrible mistake to give him the location of the safe house.
And yet I kept seeing him on the third floor of the Wayland Inn, surrounded by smoke, desperately attempting to rescue an unconscious Sean. As much as I tried, I could not think of a reason why he would start a fire and then stay in the building, why he would risk his own life to make others believe he was good. It left only the possibility that he was absolutely insane—which I hadn’t yet ruled out—or that he
The box containing us seemed to tighten.
He shifted positions, and in the low light I caught the reflection of metal. I straightened and grabbed the flashlight to shine in his direction. In his hand was a small red pocketknife; he’d already succeeded in sawing his cast halfway off.
My stomach turned. Freed from that cast, he’d have full use of both hands and would be even more dangerous.
“Shouldn’t you leave that on?” I asked flatly. “See a doctor or something.”
“She’s right,” said Chase. “You only need one arm to stab me in the back.”
Tucker shook his head. I thought I could hear him chuckling.
“It’s sweet you two are worried.” He didn’t even look up.
“Oh, I’m worried,” I said between my teeth.
The tires continued their consistent rotation on the highway.
“Don’t be,” said Tucker. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.” He cast a languid but deliberate look my way. For an instant I saw my own hatred mirrored back at me. I saw how Tucker blamed me for ruining his career and his life. And then the look was gone. The cast came off with a tear, and he groaned in relief, scratching one forearm, then the other.
“You, on the other hand, are off to Chicago, I hear,” he said.
“Maybe I am,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
I could feel Chase’s eyes boring a hole through me, but didn’t dare look away from Tucker. He leaned back against the ribbed metal siding, as though it were as comfortable as a couch.
“Your pal Sean told me. You’re lucky to have such good friends. Especially considering that reward on your life.”
Riggins flashed again in my mind and brought with him a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t protected me because we were friends, but because he thought I was the sniper.
I hadn’t noticed that I’d moved to the edge of my seat until Chase placed his left hand on my knee, and when he felt the energy making my leg tremble, he spread his fingers and pressed down, holding me in place.
“She’s luckier than you’ll be,” said Chase.
Tucker’s teeth flashed in a quick smile. “Come on,” he said. “I think you can cut me a break. After everything we’ve shared.”
My eyes widened as Tucker’s gaze lowered over me. The memory of kissing him in the Knoxville detention cells, trading my integrity for information, was sticky and sour in the back of my mouth.
Chase’s hand gripped my leg so hard I nearly winced.
“You’ve shared nothing,” I said, fury making my voice shake.
And then I turned to Chase and kissed him.
His mouth wasn’t soft, as it usually was, or even heated and demanding, like the night we’d clung to each other. His lips parted in surprise, but he barely responded, not even to touch me.
I grasped his face in my hands and kissed him again, keeping my eyes tightly closed, all but bruising our lips. I couldn’t stand his confusion, or the grim realization that followed as he tightened his jaw. All I wanted was for Tucker to know that Chase was mine, and that nothing, not even my mother’s killer, could tear us apart.
His hands cupped mine. Slowly, he pulled back. A sideways glance revealed that Tucker wasn’t even looking; he was back to digging through the whiskey crates.
My whole body heated in a sick, ugly way, and the space between Chase and me suddenly seemed too close. I looked down before he could say anything. I wished I could disappear.
Tucker had kissed me to hurt Chase, and now I’d done the same to hurt Tucker. I’d wanted us to have nothing in common, and yet, here we were.
“Em…” But before Chase could finish the truck shifted gears. I braced myself on my crated seat.
“Are we there?” Billy rolled to his knees, the motion having woken him. His cough was like the crackling of dry leaves—we hadn’t had water in a long time.
“The coast is four hundred miles away,” said Chase. “We’ve got a few more hours at least.” He clicked off the flashlight, bathing the compartment in darkness.
“We’re stopping,” I said. I could feel the steady pull of the breaks. A cold line of sweat dribbled between my shoulder blades.
“Someone’s following us.” Billy’s voice was ripe with fear.
“Might just be giving us a break,” said Tucker, but he didn’t sound hopeful.
“Ember, take Billy to the back,” murmured Chase.
My place was beside him, but if I didn’t hide, neither would Billy. I reached for his hand and pulled him up. As the truck ground down to a lower gear, I sank low behind a row of boxes, skin prickling with a familiar sensation that I hadn’t felt since the holding cells. The detached insight that I might very soon be dead.
Before Billy knelt beside me, I heard Chase tell him something. Their voices mixed with the hum of the motor and I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but soon Billy nodded and handed Chase his gun.
“Don’t be scared,” Billy said tremulously when he melted into the shadows beside me. “I’m gonna protect
