Page 168 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

Phew… Nobody on that train saw us beating the twins.

We collapse into a seat just as the train pulls away, leaving the platform—and Tazo’s and Kenji’s broken forms—far behind.

But it’s not over. They’re just pissed now.

Kai leans back, his chest heaving, blood smeared across his face. “You didn’t have to hit him that hard.”

I laugh, breathless, adrenaline still coursing through me. “You’re welcome.”

He chuckles softly, wincing at the pain. “You saved my ass.”

Again.

I lean my head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as the train glides out of the station. “That’s what I do.”

Jeez, my psychotic side is sassy.

Kai turns to me, his eyes softening despite the bruises swelling on his face. “Yes, it is.”

As the world outside blurs past, the sun sinking on the horizon, I take his hand, squeezing it tight. We may be bloodied and bruised, but we’re still here, together. And for now, that’s all that matters.

Chapter 34

Arriving

Kai’s voice stirs me from sleep, pulling me back to the real world where the tension of our escape is ever-present. His arms are wrapped around me, his warmth holding me close, and I feel safe for a moment. His ocean-colored eyes are heavy with unspoken emotions, flickering as they meet mine. With a gentle hand, he helps me sit up, then reaches for our backpacks, their weight almost tangible.

We slip out of the janitor’s closet at Eugene train station, our fingers locking together in silent agreement. The night had been long and uncomfortable, especially in such a tight space, but we made do. My back aches from the makeshift bed and the towels that barely cushion the hard floor.

The hours had passed in a blur—first, the train ride, then the cramped, airless closet Kai paid to use. There, we found a brief escape from prying eyes. We huddled together, exhaustion taking over. I stirred around noon, rechecking Kai’s injuries. His broken rib confirmed my worst fear. Carefully, I wrapped his chest in a washcloth and box tape—the best I could manage with what we had. Then we drifted back to sleep, like fugitives dreaming of simpler times.

But unlike seasoned criminals, we overslept. And now, as we step into the station’s main hall, the world is alive again.

Rush hour has turned Eugene train station into a cacophony of noise and movement—commuters hurrying to their destinations, vendors calling out their goods. The buzz of the crowd makes me dizzy, but there’s something freeing about it. The anonymity of being part of the hustle, just another face in the sea of people.

My heart swells, a little hope pushing its way through the fatigue. We’ve made it this far. We’ll make it.

Kai grips my hand a little tighter, his movements purposeful as he pulls me through the throng. He keeps his head down, but his eyes flick back and forth, scanning for any sign that we’ve been spotted. My pulse quickens as I match his pace. It’s a delicate balance—blending in without being too invisible.

At the exit, the fresh air greets us like a slap, the contrast between the musty train station and the crisp evening air startling. Kai slows, his grip loosening as we step onto the pavement. He flashes me a crooked smile that tugs at something deep inside me. The city sprawls before us, loud, chaotic, indifferent.

“We need to find the impound lot,” he says, his voice low but steady. His fingers lace with mine as though seeking comfort, grounding us.

“No, we need to hide your tattoos first,” I say, glancing at his inked arms. “We can’t walk around Eugene looking like this.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the street as if expecting trouble at any moment. His eyes land on his arms, a brief flicker of realization crossing his face.

We duck into a small clothing shop tucked away in an alley, the place you’d only find if you knew where to look. The bell above the door chimes softly as we enter, and the air inside is thick with lavender andthe smell of old paperbacks. It’s cozy, a world away from the frantic energy outside.

I browse the racks, searching for clothes to help us disappear into the crowd. Oversized sweaters, distressed jeans, scarves—anything to hide who we are. I hold up a pair of cargo pants for Kai, and he watches me with a glint of amusement. It’s a moment of levity, a tiny break in the tension.

“What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I sift through another pile of clothes.

“Nothing.” He chuckles, fingers brushing over a faded pink romper with butterflies. “You’d look cute in this.”

I toss the cargo shorts and a Rubik’s cube T-shirt at him. “Try these on.”

He catches them, laughing softly as he heads to the makeshift dressing room. But he doesn’t close the curtain, leaving enough space for me to catch him undressing. My gaze lingers on the bruises that cover his skin.

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