Page 53 of Along for the Ride

Realization dawns on me. “We’re heading back the way you came.”

She nods. “Yep. All this time, we’ve been headed toward my origin point. California. We lived a few hours from LA. That’s why it scared me when you asked if I’d ever fantasized about killing someone. Because I have, Gentry. I’ve fantasized about what I’d do to him for years. I imagined all the ways I could hurt him every time he touched me.”

“What was his name?”

She looks at me, and I can see the wheels turning behind her blue eyes. She knows why I’m asking, and part of her wants to tell me everything I want to know.

But she turns away. “Please leave my past in the past, Gentry. Please.”

She knows better than to ask that of a man who held a grudge against his brother for six years. The past never stays in the past. “You can’t let him get away with this. He has to pay, and I plan to collect his debt.”

Before I can press her further, a waiter pops onto the veranda and tells us our food is ready. I drop it for now, but she taught me something last night that’s just as powerful as a grudge. When you have someone in your corner, fighting for your sanity, healing is possible.

And I plan to fight for her.

* * *

Karson

When they get backto the room, they both look absolutely miserable. We eat without speaking, but Leana only picks at her plate. Which is fucking odd considering how she’s been bitching about eating some “real” food. After she chokes down little more than half her meal, she rises from the bed and says she wants to shower before we take off. I take the opportunity to talk to Gentry about the odd vibe.

“What’s got you so upset this early in the morning? You and the thief get in a fight?” I ask.

“She’s mentioned that someone assaulted her in the past, and I got more info on that today. I want to slit the fucker’s throat, but she won’t give me a name.”

I’m surprised when my stomach tightens at hearing this. My stomach hasn’t tightened when I’ve disemboweled people, fileted them while they were still alive, or used my condom-clad dick to fuck the holes my beloved knife created. I don’t give a fuck. Ever.

“How far in the past are we talking?” I ask. “Is it me? Not that I would stop, but is it?”

“No, you unfeeling dumbass. I talked to her about that too, and she likes your sick little games.” He shakes his head, his fist clenching into a ball. “This happened when she was just a goddamn kid.”

My stomach unclenches and blossoms with red rage. I’ve done some supremely fucked-up shit in my life, but I have a line, and it’s a hard stop at children. That’s why I take so much joy in torturing the pedos of the world. Child predators and junkies are the fucking worst. Gentry hates dealers more than junkies because he still can’t lay all the blame on our father, but I have no problem doing that. I carry a lot of hatred for dear old Dad, and I take it out on every addict I can. But we share our hatred for the sick fucks who touch kids. We may not have much in the way of a moral compass, but it points due north at those deplorables.

“What are you thinking, G?”

“I don’t know yet. She said she wants to leave the past in the past, but I think she’ll change her mind if we put her in front of him and give her the upper hand she deserves.”

“Or she’ll hate you for it,” I say. She’d expectmeto disobey her wishes, but she expects so much more from Gentry. “You’ve seen it too, though?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you think she’ll do what needs to be done if we give her the chance. You think she’d murder someone, which means you’ve noticed the same things I have. That she might be just a little fucked in the head. Like us.”

He nods and sighs. “But none of that matters if we can’t get a name.”

“Bullshit. We don’t need his name when we have hers.”

“What the fuck are you on about, Karson?”

“You know her full legal name, right?” I smile when he gives me another nod. “And how did you get that?”

His eyes widen and his spine straightens because he’s finally picking up on what I’ve already realized. One day he’ll have to admit I’m not as stupid as he makes me out to be.

“Bingo,” I say. “Her old address is probably still on that expired driver’s license.” When Gentry mentioned those licenses after our first night in a hotel, I tucked the info away. I figured we’d need it to track her down when she eventually bolted, but I like this outcome so much better.

Gentry goes to her bag and pulls the wallet from inside. He opens the camera on his phone, pulls the expired license from behind the current one, and snaps a picture of the address. After he tucks everything away, he looks at me and nods. We can’t let her know our plan. We can see the shadow lurking in her eyes, but it’s not the same shade of midnight as ours. She’s not as black as us. If she catches on, if she figures out where we’re headed before she’s in the car, she’ll fight us on it.

“This doesn’t guarantee the guy still lives there,” Gentry says as he sits on the edge of the bed. “We also need to figure out how to deal with the mother. Leana might be okay with carving a new eye socket into her stepfather’s forehead, but I doubt she’ll turn on her mom.”

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