AllFreeNovel
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I don’t know what’s going on with Wes, but he’s eerily quiet as we walk down the hallway. I yank on the metal gates and locked doors of every storefront we pass, but he just follows four feet behind me with his arms folded across his chest.
The distance between us feels like it’s doubling with every step I take.
I turn right at the fountain and head down the hallway, angry tears stinging my eyes.
Hope momentarily chases them away when I spot an old shoe store up ahead with the gate raised. I poke my head inside and peek over the empty chest-high shelves. The vinyl benches that were once used to try on shoes have been clustered together in the center of the store and arranged like living room furniture. Carter’s dad is sitting on one with his head bowed as Carter’s mom and sister stand with their backs to me, probably telling him all about the announcement.
“Never mind,” I whisper, slinking backward out of the store. “This one’s taken.”
When I turn to continue my walk, I find Wes waiting for me with his back against the graffiti-covered wall outside the shoe store. His Hawaiian shirt is open, revealing his bloodstained white tank top and the hint of a gun holster underneath. His head is tilted back, staring up at one of the skylights as if it were clear enough to actually see through, and his profile is the picture of perfection. The sight of him takes my breath away, replacing it with a hollow, empty ache in my chest.
He looks exactly like the man I fell in love with a few days ago. The one who rescued me from an angry mob, got shot for me, ran back into a burning building to find me, and buried my parents’ bodies just to help take away my pain. He looks like the man who refused to let me go when everybody else had left me behind.
But he did let me go. He must have.
Because this guy sure as hell ain’t him.
“You’re not even helping me look,” I snap, stomping past his cool exterior without stopping.
“You’re right.” Wes’s voice is infuriatingly calm as he pushes off the wall.
“Is this some kind of test?” I hiss, rattling the next gate a little harder. “I have to do everything on my own from now on, is that it?”
“Nope,” Wes says from somewhere behind me. “I’m not helping ’cause I’m not staying here.”
“What?” I turn to face him, blood thumping in my ears. “Why not?”
That damn eyebrow goes up again. “Hmm. Maybe ’cause there’s no running water. No electricity. Maybe I don’t feel like being the errand boy for a group of crazy-ass, gun-toting homeless kids. Or, I don’t know, maybe I don’t wanna live down the hall from your fucking ex and his little Norman Rockwell family.”
“What do you want me to do, Wes?” I turn my back on him and stomp toward the next storefront.
“Leave. With me. Right now. We can find a new place. One with water and power and doors that lock and walls that don’t have black fucking mold growing on them.”
I sigh, letting my hand linger on the rusty metal. “I can’t leave Quint here. You know that.”
“So, we’ll take him with us. We could drive the Ninja back to town, gas up your dad’s truck, and then come back and get him.”
“What about Lamar?” My voice takes on a shrill tone as a strange sense of panic washes over me.
“He could ride in the back with Quint.”
I turn and walk past the next entrance without stopping. The gate is up, but it’s obvious somebody’s been living in there for a while now. Maybe a few somebodies. Clothes and mattresses and beer cans and random, mismatched patio chairs are strewed around like confetti.
“What about Mr. Renshaw?” I ask, quickening my pace. “He’s hurt too.”
“You can make all the excuses you want. I know the real reason you don’t want to leave.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
Because I’m too scared. Because I’m too sad. Because no one is trying to rape or rob me in here. Because nothing in here reminds me of home.
When Wes doesn’t say anything, I turn to find him watching me with that emotionless expression on his filthy, beautiful face.
“You think I want to stay because of him?” I snap.
Wes raises one eyebrow as he nonchalantly chews on the inside corner of his mouth.
“Oh my God. I have friends here, Wes. I have a—”
