Page 58 of When Sinners Rise
I have no idea how he stayed awake all night, but now it’s a new day, and we have to make a plan.
“I’m going to freshen up.”
I edge around the bed and lock myself in the bathroom.
Naja. I have to keep thinking of her and getting her out of wherever she may be. And then home, or back to London at least. Will it still be home if there’s no reason to run anymore? Could Naja and I go back home, really go back home? My mind starts to run away, twenty steps in front of the minefield already laid before me. But maybe a little hope is good for me.
I use the facilities and splash water over my face. The toothbrush is at least in a sealed packet, so I know it’s safe to use. When I’m done, I crack the door open, wanting to see what Shaw is doing.
He’s asleep, sprawled out on the bed as if he was just waiting for some space in order to fall asleep. His tall frame makes it look so small; he must have been holding himself together while I slept.
I don’t want to wake him, not yet at least.
I sneak out of the room and go back to the vending machine. A proper cup of coffee. Or a real meal. I think back to how Landon had to do things so properly. He disapproved of microwave meals. I’m sure he’d be disgusted at the thought of this vending machine cuisine.
I grab a bottle of water and a couple of snack bars that could pass as vaguely good for me and go back to the room. The door gently cushions closed with my hands, trying not to wake him, but it fails. The click of the door has him bolting upright, looking around the room with crazy eyes, the gun in his hand from somewhere.
“Relax. It’s just me.”
He slouches and shoves the gun away.
I take up my seat next to the small table and throw him the breakfast.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Food. Breakfast. We’ve hardly eaten.”
“Screw that. I need some proper food.” He stands, heads into the bathroom, and within minutes, is back out and grabbing the duffel of money. “Coming?”
I stand and follow him out of the room. We don’t have anything to pack up, so we jump straight into the car.
Shaw drives, even though he must be dead on his feet. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to reach a small roadside diner. We go in and slide into one of the empty booths.
“Be right with you both,” one of the waitresses calls as she juggles a pot of coffee and a plate of stacked pancakes.
Shaw just stares out the window again, like he’s surveying the terrain or looking for something. The scowl on his face is now carved so deep, I wonder if he’ll ever be rid of it.
“Okay, you two. What can I getcha?”
“Coffee. Black.” Shaw doesn’t even look at the waitress. I smile up at her as she glances at me.
“I’ll take a coffee too, please. And a stack of those pancakes. A side of fruit if you have it.”
“Sure thing.”
I fiddle with the napkin dispenser and watch Shaw. I need him to see things my way and help me; otherwise, I might as well ask for a phone and call for help. But I can’t do that until I know for sure he won’t help.
“I thought you wanted food?” I start, but that doesn’t make a difference. “Do you have a plan?”
“Yes.” He’s solemn as he confirms, but I feel that little light of hope flicker in my chest.
The waitress brings the coffee over and comes right back with my pancakes.
“On second thought, I’ll have pancakes too, darlin’. With extra bacon.” Shaw turns to the waitress and gives her his charming side. Despite his scowl, and his crumpled clothes, the woman giggles.
“Right, you are.”
I ignore the food and roll my eyes, more interested in the plan than her or his ability to get every woman he meets into trouble. “Well? You can’t just say you have a plan and then shut up. What is it?”
