Page 22 of Split You Open

I jerk my gaze away from the thousands of stars above me.

With a grunt, I roll onto my stomach to peer down at her from my perch on top of the van—Leo in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

The stop at the convenience store after leaving my family’s home had been quick but successful. The van we’d stolen earlier had a wad of cash in the glovebox which Blair had used to grab us snacks, a burner phone, and—to my surprise—a pack of my favorite cigarettes.

That last item I didn’t ask for.

I don’t even know how she knew which brand was my favorite. The thoughtfulness of the small gesture was humbling.

After that stop, we grabbed some Chinese food for dinner before making our way here to Acadia National Park. We’d eaten in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. Blair’s thoughts were probably on our next move but mine? They’d been about her. About the little things she’s constantly doing for me.

She gave me peace to mourn the sight of what was left of my family’s vacation house.

Gave me something of my past to hold onto.

Bought me my favorite cigarettes as a small comfort on an otherwise bleak adventure.

But Blair’s thoughtfulness spreads further than just today.

From creating a small memorial service for Abby to saving my life, Blair has been there for me in ways that I would never have known to even ask for. The fact that even in these dire moments she’s still thinking of me makes it impossible not to adore her.

I frown as I study her closely. Blair’s mouth is pressed into a tight line, and her head is on a constant swivel, her brows gently furrowed. Her movements are a bit stiffer too. And she’s constantly tucking that strand of hair behind her ear.

I’m beginning to understand her small tells.

She won’t say it, but I know she’s anxious.

“And the bad news?” I call down.

She comes over and yanks open the sliding side door of the van.

“We’re going to have to go without a fire. It’ll draw too much attention this far into the National Park. We’re not where campers are supposed to be.”

I grimace. “Do you know how fucking cold it’s going to get tonight?”

“No, but I do know it’s cold right now.”

I eye the too-small jacket she’s wearing that she’d found in the van. It fits worse than the one I found for myself. I tried offering this coat to keep her warm, but she just rolled her eyes and walked away telling me that I needed it more than her.

Blair disappears inside the van then pops her head back out a moment later. “It’s taking forever for this burner phone to charge. We probably won’t be able to make a call until tomorrow morning.”

As long as I can talk to Santi and hear his voice soon, I don’t mind waiting. I can feel his absence as strongly as I would if I suddenly found myself missing a limb. I miss his smile and teasing. I miss the heated looks he would give me when he thought I wasn’t looking and how he knew what I needed when I found myself lost.

I was just beginning to accept the love he was offering when all this shit went down. There hadn’t been a chance for me to offer it in return.

Climbing down off the roof of the van, I join Blair on the ground.

I watch as she rummages through the cabinets. The setup is actually really nice—if I was going to convert a van into a camper this is probably how I would do it. It’s a shame the owners can’t enjoy it. Hopefully by the time we ditch it, the cops will be able to track them down and return it to them.

“There’s a small propane tank and stove under the bed, we could use that in the van to keep warm,” I suggest.

“And die of carbon monoxide poisoning? No thanks.”

My sigh is dramatic, mostly due to how tired I am but also because I know how rough it’ll get. It may be autumn but Maine gets cold fast. Especially at night.

“Alright,” she hops down out of the van and waves me in. “I pulled out all the blankets they had. We should be okay. Try to get some sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”

She doesn’t look at me as she turns to walk toward the woods. I frown, then catch the wrist of her good arm to halt her progression. She stops at once and looks back at me.