“Matheson is dead. Took out the whole MacGallan estate with him, but he’s dead. Over two weeks ago. You and Lily never needed to go into the mountains, and you no longer need to hide out. We can finally head back home and get on with our lives.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks.
I wasn’t ready to let Lily get back to her life. Because without her, I didn’t have one.
Lily
I wandered through the store in an absent-minded daze, hands brushing the rows of licorice, jerky sticks, and dusty bags of trail mix.
At the cold drinks, I debated between a Diet Coke and an energy drink called Monster Squash, neon green. The idea of obliterating my exhaustion with a can of poison appealed to me. I reached for one.
“Good choice. Goes well with a pack of Twizzlers,” Ryker said, in my ear. No warning, no footsteps, just the deep, low rumble I’d become addicted to.
I didn’t turn around. “Do they really, or are you making fun of me?”
He laughed, setting a single stick of beef jerky next to my can. “I’d kill for one of them but makes me too jittery.”
He paid for the snacks, exchanging a joke with the kid at the counter, and we walked out together. The sunlight hurt my eyes as I popped the tab of my Monster Squash and sucked down half in one go.
The Prius was already running as I opened my car door and sat in my seat. “Did you get through to Royal?” I asked.
Ryker grinned, then shocked the hell out of me by producing a lint roller from the glove box and running it over his t-shirt. “Royal is adopting a cat.”
Soda came out of my nose, which burned more than you’d believe. “He what?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘I think I’m falling for her.’” He tossed the roller back into the glove box and then started to drive. “Also, Matheson is dead. You and I are officially off the radar.”
I leaned back, acutely aware of the emotions inside me. I should be elated or feel relieved but all I felt was uncertainty. “I’m allowed to live, then?” My tone was light but it trembled underneath.
“Death was never in the equation for you,” Ryker said, eyes fixed on the road as he pulled out of the lot. A long silence unraveled between us.
“Do you ever miss normal?” I ventured, watching towns roll by through the bug-spattered glass.
“In all honesty?” Ryker thought. “Normal isn’t something I’ve ever had.”
I took another pull of my drink. “Me neither. I think I was waiting for someone to give me permission to stop pretending.”
Ryker’s face softened. “You don’t need permission. You just need someone stubborn enough to stick with you.” His hand found my leg, a warm heaviness that made me want to cry.
We were passing a field, its grass silvery and bowed, when I whispered, “I want you stubborn, then. Every day.” It was the closest I’d come to asking someone to stay. No teacher voice, no armor, just a bare plea in the open air.
Ryker squeezed my thigh. “Deal.” He drove on, whistling off-key, the two of us patched together by trauma and coffee and the insane determination not to let the world eat us whole.
∞∞∞
That night, we found a vacancy at a roadside lodge outside Kamloops—a real bed, crisp sheets, and not a single blood stain in sight. We watched TV, split a pizza, and showered together until the hot water ran out. In bed, Ryker pulled me close, his arms wrapped so completely around my body that I could feel his pulse, steady and persistent, beneath my cheek.
“Tell me a secret,” I whispered, glancing up at his profile in the light from the TV.
He rolled to face me, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I used to think I was only good at leaving,” he said quietly. “When we first came to Vancouver, I treated you like any other assignment.Checked on you a couple of times throughout the day and that was it. And every time I walked away from you, it felt like losing blood. So, I became a watcher of you. You were my hobby.”
My stomach knotted. “After this is over, I don’t want to stop being your hobby,” I admitted, and finally let myself believe it might even be true.
“You won’t be,” he said, and the simplicity of it steadied everything around me. “Not unless you ask.”
I smiled, drowsy and full of more life than I’d ever felt in Vancouver, or anywhere else for that matter. “You’re a way better babysitter than you think.”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you get away with calling me a babysitter… this time.”
