But an itch keeps me awake, a whisper at the back of my mind that sounds like danger.
The window frames a bruise-colored sky. Dawn isn’t far off.
I untangle myself slowly, careful not to wake him. As I rise from the bed, his hand slides free from my body—the loss of contact colder than it should be.
He shifts but doesn’t wake. A part of me wishes he would—that he’d stop me before I can disappear again.
I dress quietly in the gray slant of early morning light. On his nightstand, a framed photo of us sits proudly. I smooth the hair back from his forehead. Press a kiss to his temple.
And leave.
14
Past
Itook the hiking trail that runs adjacent from our land into town. I stayed in the shadows. I couldn’t think of anywhere to go that would be safe, so I settled myself under the bridge where I jumped from, just the other day. I finally let my eyes close as the darkness under the bridge shrouds me. The river is low compared to the other day and the sound echoes off of the arches. I’m exhausted and chilly, but I clutch the backpack to my chest, gun still clutched in hand.
My eyes slip shut for a moment.
“What’re you doing here?”
I startle and withdraw deeper under the bridge. “Go away,” I say, but there’s little conviction. I hold the pistol out in front of me and aim toward the shadowy figure in front of me.
“Dude! Put that thing down. What the hell is wrong with you?
I recognize the boy from the bridge, Truman, as he steps toward me into the light.
“Sorry.” My voice wavers as my hands begin to shake. I put the gun down next to me and sob.
He leans forward and squints through the darkness at me and then glances all around us. “What’s up? You’re kinda freakin’ me out.”
I look over at him. He’s seated himself a couple feet to my left but looks hesitant. “I…I’m in trouble, I guess.”
“Any particular kind of trouble?” he asks genuinely looking concerned.
I can’t stop my body from shaking. “Men came up to the cabin.”
Truman furrows his brows. “Guys wearing suits and fancy shoes?”
I nod my response.
“I saw them in town yesterday. Looked shady. Did they hurt you? Where’s your dad?” he asks.
I suck in a deep breath and prepare myself to say the words out loud. “He’s dead. They shot him.”
Truman seems shocked. “We should call the police.” He moves to stand but I stop him.
“No!” I say. “I’m never supposed to call the police. It’s a rule.”
He gives me a funny look but doesn’t say more about it. “Truman, remember?” he finally says and scoots over to me so close that our thighs touch. His skin lingers with the heat of the day. The warmth feels good.
I nod. “Yeah, I remember.”
Silence seems to expand between us. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know up from down right now. I sit sniffling while Truman quietly stares at me. Finally, he speaks.
“Well, we can’t stay here.” He inhales a deep breath. “Come on…”
“Kid, my name is Kid.” He slaps his thighs and stands up.
