Page 59 of Sweet Doe
Tomorrow, we run. Burn every trail behind us and disappear.
But tonight?
Tonight I rest with her in my arms and everything I’ve ever wanted finally pressed to my chest.
Chapter Nineteen
SLOAN
The acrid smell of burning metal and plastic fills my nostrils as I watch flames dance across the hood of the blue sedan. In the flickering orange light, Asher's face looks almost demonic, shadows dancing across his features as he steps back from his handiwork. The fire spreads quickly in the dry mountain air, turning what was probably someone's reliable family car into our salvation.
Our distraction.
"That should keep them busy," he says, wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it into the flames. The fabric catches immediately, adding to the inferno that's already drawing attention from across the motel parking lot.
In the distance, I can hear voices rising in alarm, doors slamming as people emerge from their rooms to gawk at the flames. Someone shouts about calling the fire department, and I catch a glimpse of the search team members who've been staying three rooms down from us scrambling to help.
Just as we planned. They just can’t help themselves.
My heart pounds against my ribs as Asher takes my hand, his fingers steady and warm as they ground me in the disarray we’vecreated. "Ready?" he asks, his voice calm in a way that should probably terrify me. How can he be so calm right now?
Instead, it thrills me how composed he can be when everything around us is burning.
"Ready," I breathe, and we move.
We slip through the spaces between cars, keeping low and fast while the attention of everyone in the immediate area focuses on the burning car. Behind us, the flames are already reaching toward the sky, painting the night in shades of orange and red.
The SUV is parked on the other side of the motel, exactly where Asher left it this afternoon when he scouted our escape route. Black paint, tinted windows, license plates that won't trace back to anything out of the ordinary—it looks like every other vehicle on the road, which is exactly what we need. Nothing about it will draw attention or linger in anyone's memory.
I slide into the passenger seat as Asher starts the engine, the vehicle purring to life. Through the windshield, I can see the glow of flames reflecting off the side of the building, turning the entire sky the color of arson.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I murmur, surprised by my own words.
Asher's eyes meet mine as he pulls away from the curb, his expression unreadable. "What is?"
"The fire. The chaos." I watch the orange glow fade behind us as we turn the corner, leaving the burning car and the search team behind. "All of it."
His laugh is low and throaty, and when he looks at me again, there's something dark andpleasedin his expression. "You're not the same woman who walked into that church on Christmas Eve."
He's right. That woman would have been horrified by the deliberate act of destroying someone’s car to cover our escape.That woman believed in following rules and doing the right thing, in trusting that the system would protect her if she just played along and lived life in a way that didn't disrupt or hinder anyone else.
This woman knows better.
This woman is stronger.
"No," I agree, settling back into the leather seat as Asher navigates the dark streets. "She's gone."
We drive in comfortable silence for the first few miles, both of us lost in our own thoughts as the small mountain town disappears behind us. The road ahead is empty, stretching into darkness punctuated only by our headlights and the occasional reflector marking curves and switchbacks that wind deeper into the wilderness.
It's peaceful, almost surreal after the adrenaline rush of our escape. Like we've crossed some invisible barrier into freedom.
"Tell me what you're thinking," Asher says softly, one hand on the steering wheel while the other finds mine across the center console.
"I'm helping a murderer escape," I laugh, shaking my head at the surrealness of it all. "And I've somehow justified why everything we've done is okay."
"You're learning to be someone who doesn't play by the rules society has set for us," he corrects, his voice gentle but firm.
We sit in silence for a while longer, content with the hypnotic rhythm of the SUV’s tires on asphalt. Outside our windows, the landscape rushes past in shades of gray and black, mountain peaks silhouetted against star-scattered sky. It's beautiful in its emptiness.
