Page 77 of Endless Love

Thankfully, the backpack with our things in it was still on Ivan when we clambered into the taxi. It’s fallen to the floorboard, bloodied on the outside, but the first-aid kit is in there. I just have to get somewhere, and I can try to patch Ivan up. I can try?—

I have no idea how badly he’s hurt. I know better than to go to a hospital. Even with our new identification, while we’re still in Vegas, it’s a bad idea. The driver is still yelling at me to pick a location, and I reach down, grabbing the road atlas out of the backpack. I flip it open, look for the first smallish-looking town name that’s outside of Vegas proper, and tell him to go there.

And then I sink back against the seat, cradling Ivan in my lap as the taxi speeds on.

When we get into town, the driver glances back at me. “Where do you want to go?” he asks curtly, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaustion sweeping over me.

“A motel. Any out-of-the-way motel.”

He nods, driving on until we find a two-story roadside motel. He stops in front of it, and I reach into Ivan’s pocket, finding another few bills that I pull out. “Another three hundred,” I tell him, “if you’ll wait while I get the room and help me get him into it.”

“Sure.” He starts to reach for the money, and I yank my hand back.

“You can have it once you get him into the room, and you walk out again, without hurting either of us. Understand?” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. A couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine saying anything like that. But now, it just seems like common sense.

The driver narrows his eyes at me, then nods. "Fine. Get the room. Hurry up."

I slide out from under Ivan, trying not to jostle him. My legs are shaky as I hurry to the office, praying they have a vacant room. From what I can see of the empty parking lot, I’d be surprised if they didn’t. The bored-looking clerk barely glances at me as I request a ground floor room, paying in cash that sticks together a little with blood as I hand it over. The clerk doesn’t seem to care, which doesn’t bode all that well for this particular spot, but there’s no time for me to worry about that. I glance back repeatedly as I wait for the key, and every time I look, I’m terrified that the driver will have taken off anyway, despite the fact that I took all of the cash out of Ivan’s pockets to avoid any incentive for him to do exactly that.

The clerk hands me a key on a rusted white tag, and I grab it, muttering a quick “thank you,” as I rush back to the taxi.

The driver helps me half-carry, half-drag Ivan to the room, only a few yards from where he parked. It's like every other motel room that Ivan and I stayed at on the way here, except a little worse—dingy, and this one smells of cigarettes. But it’sthe best I can do right now. Ivan is breathing shallowly, and I’m terrified that at any moment it’s going to stop.

"Money?” The driver shoves his hand out and I point at the door.

“Outside.”

The moment he steps out, I shove three hundred dollars at him. He takes it, and I slam the door so quickly that it almost catches his hand, locking and latching it, my heart pounding.

I’m alone. Not physically, but Ivan isn’t going to be able to help me right now if something happens. I don’t even know if I can help him.

I have to. I have to figure it out.

One thing at a time, I reason. I grab the first-aid kit out of the backpack, and start to strip Ivan out of his clothes. The long-sleeved henley he was wearing goes first, and I drag the blood-soaked fabric over his head, stifling a cry as I see the damage that the bullets did.

One of them tore through his shoulder. From what I can see, it left a clean exit wound, although I don’t really know enough about this kind of thing to be sure. Blood is congealing around it, and Ivan is pale, his skin waxy.

The other ripped across his side, leaving torn flesh dangling from an open wound. Tears fill my eyes as I look at it, and I know this is beyond me. It’s beyond the cheap first-aid kit sitting on the bed. It’s beyond any skill or supplies I have, but I have to do my best.

I’m all Ivan has right now.

And he’s all you have.

It’s the truth, now. I have new identification, everything I need for my new life. A passport, a birth certificate, a license, all sayingAnna Blackwood, a name that doesn’t feel real and that I certainly wouldn’t have picked for myself. But it’s a plain name.A simple name, one that thousands of other people have, one that can let me disappear.

I had thought that I was still going to leave Ivan behind. When “Dave” gave me my new identification earlier, I thought that I would walk away. But if I learned anything from what just happened, it’s that I have to face a single, impossible truth that I’ve known for a while, and just haven’t wanted to admit.

I love Ivan, too. And I can’t walk away from him.

I open up the first-aid kit, getting out what I have that I can use to patch him up. Antiseptic wipes, antibiotic cream, gauze pads, bandages. I spread it across the bed, picking up each individual item as I need it, and as I get to work, I talk to him.

I hope he’ll hear it, somehow, and it will keep him from slipping away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before,” I say softly, as I start to clean away the blood. “I should have told you that as soon as you said it to me in the house of mirrors. But I was scared. I’ve been scared for a while, I guess. Scared of how I feel about you, scared of what that means, and scared to admit how long I really think I’ve known.”

I start to wipe the alcohol over the wounds, wincing at the thought of it against the raw flesh. But Ivan is passed out so deeply that he doesn’t stir—doesn’t even flinch. Still, I keep speaking, hoping that some part of it will get through to him.

“All of this happened the wrong way. We both know it. The things you did were wrong. But you were right when you told me I was seeking out danger. That I was seeking out something different, something that I knew I shouldn’t have. And even though I’m devastated over everything I’ve lost—I realized today, maybe too late, that I would be devastated if I lost you, too.”

---