Page 76 of Cruel Cravings

He understands I mean late at night. After hours, once the lights had gone out.

He’d lurked in the shadows of my room and watched me sleep. Sometimes I was so sure he was doing a lot more…

Brontë confirms what I’m asking with another incline of his head. I almost ask if he was at the hospital solely to stalk me, but I bite back that question and save it for another time.

Only local channels play on the TV. News stations, more new stations, and old reruns of various sitcoms.

I skip past a local report about Stanley Vedder and then grow bored and irritated.

“I’m going to head down to the diner to grab some food. I’m guessing you won’t be coming?”

Brontë’s lack of response is a response in and of itself.

He doesn’t do public outings, which means no diner visit. Even if it’s some greasy truck stop diner on the side of the highway.

I grab the room key and my wallet, where I’ve stuffed the cash I borrowed from Stanley, and let him know I’ll be back in a few minutes.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll make sure to bring you back a cheeseburger… or something.”

The door snaps shut and I tuck my hands in my jacket pockets, bracing for the crisp gusts of wind that greet me.

It’s still not lost on me how odd our situation is. I’m on some road trip with my stalker. He’s promised he’ll show me where my missing sister is, and that’s not even addressing the fact that we’re both probably wanted by authorities. If they’re not on our trail yet, they will be eventually.

How long can a sheriff and his deputy go missing before the rest of the department starts a search? And how long before someone other than McGrath and Dudley realize it’s Stanley’s car I’m driving?

Laurent and Wolford must still be looking for me.

I might be making jokes with Brontë and telling him to get nice and comfy, but I’m aware how easily everything can come tumbling down. All it would take is one wrong move and I’d be a goner.

I make it to the ground floor and start toward the truck stop diner. This one advertises its burger and fries special.

The parking lot’s crowded. Semitrucks are parked toward the back like always, but there’re other visitors too—plenty of sedans and pickup trucks of other travelers and even a huge, touristy looking greyhound bus.

I’m crossing the parking lot when I glance down at the asphalt beneath my sneakers.

There’s a ticket for the bus that must’ve fallen out of someone’s pocket or purse. I pause long enough to kneel and pick up the ticket, turning it over between my fingers.

It’s a one-way to Northam, the next city over from Easton.

Rising up to my feet, I glance over my shoulder at the Eazy Sleep Motel, where my room with Brontë is. My gaze falls on the lit-up, curtained window that’s ours. I turn forward and watch the passengers begin to board the bus, conflicted over this new crossroad.

I could sneak on. I could leave with the others and he’d never know. At least not for a while.

But we’ve made a pact we’re headed to Easton together. He said he would show me where my sister’s gone.

The question is, do I trust Brontë enough to believe he’s telling me the truth?

24.Jael

Toxic - JPOLND and Rachel K. Collier

“Hurry, hurry, hurry or I’ll miss the bus!” I tap my foot, glancing from the diner counter to the parking lot where the bus is boarding. I ordered a club sandwich and bag of chips to go in hopes it would be ready within a few minutes.

It was a snap decision I had to make.

Stick things out with Brontë or take my chances on the bus headed to Northam.

I wasn’t sure what to do, but then I realized finding the ticket must’ve been some kind of sign.

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