Page 54 of Sweet Doe
And we walk out together. Step by step. Breath by breath. Out into the frozen unknown.
Our shit packed. Our hearts unhinged.
And our future, whatever the hell it looks like, burning in our fucking wake.
Chapter Seventeen
SLOAN
They’re getting closer.
They’re closing in.
I can feel it in the way Asher's jaw tightens when he thinks I'm not paying attention. He won’t stop checking his phone for news updates. The restless energy that radiates from him even when he's trying to appear collected is putting me even more on edge. We've been running for days now, deeper into the mountains, pushing ourselves to the limit just to stay ahead of the helicopters and search dogs.
The motel room is a far cry from our cozy cabin. Thin walls, scratchy sheets, the lingering smell of cigarettes and cleaning products. But it's low-key, the kind of place where people pay in cash and ask no questions, and right now that’s worth more than comfort.
"We need to keep moving," Asher says from his position by the window, where he's been monitoring the parking lot for the past hour. "Cross into Utah, find somewhere we can camp while we figure out our next move."
"How much farther?" I ask.
"A few hours, maybe four or five depending on how much we need to stick to the back roads." He turns from the window, hiseyes finding mine across the small, dark room. "Are you having second thoughts?"
"No," I say, and I truly mean it. "No second thoughts."
His smile is instantly relieved. "Good. I'd rather die than lose you now."
"I need ice," I announce, grabbing the plastic bucket from beside the mini-fridge. "The machine is down the hall."
"I'll come with you."
"It's just ice, Asher. I'll be back in two minutes. Less bodies out in the open, less risk."
He hesitates, visibly torn between his protective instincts and the need to maintain our low profile. Finally, he nods. "Two minutes. If you're not back, I'm coming to find you."
The fluorescent lights in the hallway flicker overhead as I make my way to the ice machine, the plastic bucket swinging from my hand. It's late enough that most guests are settled in for the night, leaving the corridors empty except for the distant sound of televisions and muffled conversations bleeding through the thin doors.
The ice machine is around the corner from our room, tucked into an alcove that provides relief from the harsh lighting. I'm halfway through filling the bucket when I hear voices drifting from the direction of the lobby.
"...missing person case out of Colorado. Young woman, red hair, disappeared on Christmas Eve..."
I freeze in place, paralyzed by fear. Slowly, I peer around the corner toward the direction of the voices.
Three people in matching jackets stand near the front desk, talking quietly with the night clerk. Even from this distance, I can make out the official insignia on their clothing—search and rescue, probably coordinating with local law enforcement to expand their grid.
They're here. Actuallyhere, in the same building where Asher and I are hiding.
"...checked all the establishments within a fifty-mile radius. Nothing so far, but we'll be expanding the search tomorrow..."
I should run,sprintback to our room, grab Asher, and get the hell out of here before they realize how close they are to finding me. I should do anything except stand here frozen like a deer caught in headlights, listening to them discussmydisappearance.
But I can't move. I can't breathe. My brain doesn’t want to process what’s happening.
"...family's offering a substantial reward for information leading to her safe return..."
My family.
I’d almost forgotten that there are people out there who love me, who are desperate to know what happened to me.
