Page 71 of Visions of Darkness

Trapped in a mystery of who we were and who we were supposed to be.

I fiddled with my fingers, then asked, “Where are we going?”

In pure agitation, he roughed a hand over his head again. “Away. Where I can keep you safe.”

No question, we both were wondering if that was even possible.

I lifted my gaze to him. “I hate what I’ve gotten you into.”

His head barely shook, and the tattoos on his throat rolled when he swallowed. “Don’t you dare apologize, Aria. I was already there.”

A sticky awareness climbed through my ribs and compressed my heart. “They’re going to call the cops, and they’re going to come for us.”

It wasn’t a question.

Pax’s nod was clipped. “Yeah, they’re going to come for us.”

“Thank you.” It was out, hanging in the turbulence that rippled between us.

He didn’t respond to it; instead, he reached and squeezed my hand, something close to pain in his voice. “You should try to get some rest.”

I wavered, and his hold tightened. “Everyone will already be in Faydor, so you won’t have to explain anything to our family. Go. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake.”

I ran my hand up my arm, trying to chase away the thick dread that had settled into my marrow.

The consequence of what we’d done. While the other part of me rejoiced.

Unable to process that he’d come.

That he was there.

For the first time, I was next to the man whom I’d only imagined I could be with this way.

Real and alive and awake.

But that joy was short-lived. Because somewhere deep inside, I knew what it was going to cost.

Chapter Eighteen

Aria

I jostled awake when the car shook over a new terrain, to the wisping shadows that came with the earliest hour of the day. The horizon hinting the barest gray.

I blinked to try to orient myself. To catch up to where I was and what had happened, although the events of last night would be impossible to forget.

The tires ground over the dirt lot of an old motel, and Pax quickly pulled his car around in front of a single glass door stamped with the wordsMotel Registration. He came to a stop, the engine still purring while the jagged beats of his heart filled the cab.

A silent thunder that reverberated the space and pounded through my bloodstream.

“Where are we?” I mumbled as I sat forward, fighting for full coherency.

“We just passed the Pennsylvania state line. We’re in some blip of a town. Hoping no one will recognize us here.”

I looked out the window at the motel. It was as if it hailed from another time. It was a single-story building, painted blue, with a sign out front flashingVacancyin a jaundiced light.

His hard gaze scanned, searching the area before he put the car into park but left it idling. “Stay here and lock the doors. Don’t open them until I come back.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

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