Page 27 of Bound By Water
Instead of a smile, I roll my eyes. “Let’s go eat before your ego ruins my appetite.” I tap the smudge of dirt at the end of his nose. “You should probably wash up, too.”
This time, he laughs and slings an arm around me. “Wherever you go, I shall follow. Lead on, my lady who has the money.”
He swings open the door to the diner and a blast of warm air rushes out to greet us, which I embrace wholeheartedly after walking for so long in the chilly air. The serviceable diner is packed with people eating breakfast, and the familiar sound of chatter, laughter, and utensils scraping plates eases the tension around my shoulders. My stomach growls. Mmm, everything smells more delicious and buttery than I expected.
Several individuals stop eating to stare at the two of us, but one glare from River turns their gazes away. I look from them to him, trying to see what they find so scary, but all I see is a charming smile and handsome face.
A wooden sign points right. Restrooms. I pivot toward them, but River grabs my elbow.
“We need to get in and out. They’ll be looking for us,” he tells me, bursting the little bubble of safety I’d found in the moment. He glances at the parking lot. “Don’t talk to anybody. Five minutes. I’ll meet you right here.” His eyes are intense as he relays the message.
“Be quick. Got it,” I tell him with a reassuring nod, knowing he has more experience with our enemy than I do. “Back soon.”
With those words, I enter and beeline to the nearest stall, stripping off my jacket and the hidden go pack underneath and dumping them on the floor. I’ve had to pee forever. Once I finish, I grab my stuff and head to the sink. When I see myself, I shake my head. River didn’t tell me leaves were sticking out of my hair, my collar was torn, or there was a line of blood from my ear to my shoulder. No wonder everyone was staring at us. I look rough. Chuckling, I reach up and pull out a couple more leaves and get hit with the strangest sense of déjà vu. The last time I stood in front of a mirror disheveled, picking dirt and leaves out of my hair, was the day I collided with Trent in front of the library.
I stare at my tear-stained face, trying to internally compare the two moments, and even though I try hard to point out the differences, they feel exactly the same. Last time, the harmless collision led to Trent trying to kill me. What if I’m making the same mistake all over again? Will I stand in front of another mirror in the future and regret meeting River? I sigh, completely unsure of what I should do.
Quickly cleaning my face and hands, I make myself more presentable, then I pull out a few bills from the go pack and place them in the front pocket of my dirty jeans. Putting on the go bag and my jacket, I then grab the larger backpack by the handle and carry it out. I’m sure River’s realized I’m carrying something on my back, but I refuse to let him think it’s more than a large purse.
When I open the door, he’s leaning against the wall, waiting for me. His hair is wet and roughly combed back from his face, and the dirt is gone. He immediately steps forward and takes my hand in his.
“Someone cleans up nice. I wish we had time to sit and eat. Talk. Get to know each other. Unfortunately, we have to keep moving.”
As I was also thinking about his good looks, I can’t help the blush that spreads across my face. “I know, but I need food. We’ll get something to go.”
The thought of running without him is still lingering in the back of my mind. I hesitate for a second and stare up at him, knowing I should drop his hand and hitch a ride out of here. I open my mouth to let him know, but not a single word leaves my lips. I can’t find the will to let go of my only security. Even if it turns out badly later, I’m willing to take the chance. Mind made up; I follow him to the counter.
We grab a couple of stools to wait for our food. His bare wrist makes me pause. “You got rid of your jewelry.”
“Didn’t want anyone to think I was the bad guy,” he murmurs in response. His eyes find mine and he winks.
Several truckers sit down at the counter next to us to eat their breakfast while they swap the latest route and road updates. I lean over and quietly ask them where they’re headed. Most are going north, but one guy, an older trucker with kind brown eyes, tells me he’s headed south toward Birmingham, Alabama. I glance at River, and he gives a slight shake of his head, so I say nothing. My lips turn down at the thought of walking all day and night in the chilly weather.
With a sigh, I turn toward the parking lot to watch for any sign of the black SUV.
Minutes later, the trucker gets up to leave. He stops at my stool and looks us both up and down. “If you need a ride, I’m leaving in ten minutes. Should be enough time for you to get your food and join me.” He leaves, heading to the parking lot on the right.
“We need to catch a ride,” I tell River. When he shakes his head, I throw up my hands. “Why not?”
“Do you want to get him killed?” he whispers in my ear. “If they find us with him, they won’t hesitate. Trust me. I’ve seen it happen.”
The thought of being responsible for that man’s death is sobering, but it doesn’t deter me. “No, but I also don’t want to die. It’s only a matter of minutes until they catch up to us. We can’t outrun them.” Frustrated, I flag down the server. “Excuse me. Can you tell me where we’re at?”
She studies us for a second. “South of Greensboro. Why?” Her eyes dart between me and River. “Are you lost?”
“What’s the next big city?” I ask her, not wanting to tell her our destination.
Her eyes narrow. “Next big city is Charlotte. Why don’t you just tell me where you’re going? I’ve got customers waiting.”
I take a deep breath. “How far is Atlanta?”
She thinks about it for a second. “Roughly four and a half hours, give or take, by car. Is that all?” When I nod, she huffs and speeds off, coffee pot in hand.
River groans. “You might as well put a neon sign out front.”
My cheeks flood with embarrassment, but I defiantly shrug. “I don’t care. You can stay here. Or go your own way. I need to get to Atlanta.”
The server comes out of the kitchen and hands us our food. “Well, what’s it going to be?”
