Page 44 of Ethereally Redeemed

I swallow against the lump in my throat. Grey meets my stare with a hardened expression, terror flickering in the depths of my mind.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Guests in the diner stare at the television worriedly, mumbling to themselves about things I’m too far away to hear.

The server turns her head to us, a suspicious glint in her narrowed eyes that lets me know she recognizes us. We’re up from the table and out the door before she has the chance to grab her phone and call the authorities, her voice echoing in the space behind us.

And just like that, the fragile hope for freedom we clung to has been wiped away, crumbling to dust.

We’ll never fucking be free, no matter how much we hope to be.

Chapter 16

Grey

Pain and horror.

Two collective words that are not nearly enough to describe the emotions I’ve experienced all too well these past few years.

The chilly temperature creeps down my spine as I squeeze Naya’s hand one last time, letting it go, and then step inside the open twenty-four-seven convenience store.

It’s my turn to distract the cashier while Naya takes what we need to survive the night—dinner.

It’s been months since Daxton left us to continue on his, god knows where he went. Four weeks since we were at that diner, the television broadcasting the news that had us fleeing the scene instantly. We left my childhood home shortly thereafter, jumping from motel to motel, constantly on the move and living on the streets—that’s been our lives since we left the manor.

No more news has been shared, no more letters meant for us have shown up, and it’s making both of us antsy with apprehension. I fucking hate being this jumpy, always on the edge. Every gust of wind rattling the bushes and every sound out of place makes me whip around, convinced someone is watching. The anger that once fueled my insides has been smothered by the abandonment of my brother once again, and the fear of being hunted down like wild animals squeezes me like a vice—it’s suffocating.

We need to save the little money we have left if we ever want a chance to survive after all this, and it’s not much we have left. Enough to get us out of the country, but that’s it. Turning to street fighting again won’t do us anything good. The peoplethere know my face and have more than likely already seen the news. If I showed up, they’d just turn me over.

With a calm and collected demeanor, I approach the young man at the till, looking him up and down. He’s a grumpy man, his lips turned down and leaning against the counter before him. He stares at me with an almost bored expression, as if he’d rather be somewhere else than here.

Well, this is going to be fun.I sigh and give him a charming smile. Even if it feels as fake as it probably looks.

“You don’t happen to have any change?” I ask, moving to stand so that he doesn’t have a clear view of the rest of the store.

He meets my gaze with a frown, eyebrows furrowed while crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a card-only store,” he grunts.

I give him an unnerving smile. “You see, I could really need it, I lost my card and so…”

He looks at me, a scowl on his expression. “We don’t keep cash here.”

“Surely, you have some, somewhere?”

The expression he tosses me is full of irritation and annoyance, almost rolling his eyes from my persistence not to let the subject go.

“No, we do not. Is there anything else you need?”

Instead of wasting my time,is what he doesn’t say aloud, but I feign thinking about it, biding my time so that Naya can get what we need and get the hell out while the cashier is occupied with me.

“Do you have any cigarettes?”

“I thought you didn’t have a card?” he grumbles, but turns behind him to reach a few packs of cigarettes, letting me choose which one I want.

At that very second, the doorbell chimes as someone either enters or exits, and in my periphery, I see Naya’s petite figuremaking a run out of the store. She’s so fast it’s impossible to catch a glimpse of her face, holding groceries in her arms that are secured tightly to her body.

“Hey!” the cashier screams behind the counter, shock and fury evident on his face as he reaches for his phone. “You need to pay for that!”

I give him a smirk before grabbing one pack of cigarettes, making sure to not-so accidentally swipe down his phone to the ground. The device clatters loudly, and he yells in frustration while diving for it.

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