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A second after pulling the sheets up to my eyes and hiding beneath the covers like a scared child, I sat up in bed.
A thought hit me, what the hell was I doing?
I couldn’t sleep here.
This wasn’t normal, and I had a window right there—not one with a pane missing, but one that would open. One, I could easily fit through and escape.
My ears worked, straining to listen to the noises down the hall to find out if the shower was still running or if Cedric was still singing along to the pop album he’d played most of the night.
He’d asked me to join him while we were still downstairs, and I was about to force the fork through my rapidly beating heart to avoid it.
Instead, I said, “I’m a little tired.”
He accepted that, agreeing that I’d had a long journey.
We were in Texas, and that was so far from San Francisco. From my pretty golden bridge and the memories of my family. From Rhylie, wherever she was.
I felt over the barcode on my arm, a bigger atrocity than it needed to be because I wouldn’t keep still, and the woman doing it had to start again after crossing it out.
That thought led to another: the tracker in the back of my neck that I couldn’t see to cut out and stomp on. It would allow Cedric to find me like some lost dog when I stopped at a shelter.
Another thought hit me.
I was wasting too much damn time.
I turned the lamp back on, hating the orange glow that reminded me of fire, which reminded me of the Devil, whose face I’d never forget.
I moved to the armoire, slumping at its drawers. I opened the top one, finding dozens of balls of colorful socks. I lost count at six, layering them on my feet. I hoped they’d break my fall when I jumped through the window.
The music in the distance stopped, indicating that shower time was over. I knew time was running out. There was no telling if Cedric would go to his room or mine.
And I didn’t want to be here if he picked the latter.
Quietly, I lifted the window and looked down.
A nauseous feeling swished in my stomach, the ground looking farther away than expected.
I froze, wasting a second I didn’t have because I had no idea how to do this without two hands holding my weight.
I couldn’t.
I’d have to wait for my wrist to heal or risk falling and getting caught.
Chapter 50
Remi
Ishouldn’t be here, hiding in dark clothes, out in the open.
I should be in Chicago for tomorrow’s gig.
Fuck the gig.
She moved to the window, opened it, and looked down. Her eyes avoided me as I hung around the edge of the forest, unable to look away from her.
Sadness tainted her expression. She was too smart to jump.
I should be in Chicago, I tried to drill that thought into my head. I’d already be in Chicago if I didn’t have to be here because some idiot outbid me, thanks to Daniel stepping into my booth without an invite and demanding I gave it back to the old pervert I’d knocked on his ass to claim it. That cunt was the reason I missed the winning bid.
