Page 92 of Break for Me

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I was wholly devastated when I felt him try to escape the bed after he’d decided that we needed to get moving again. I didn’t even remember falling asleep, but I was completely certain that I hadn’t had enough time that way. He wasn’t wearing a shirt but my hands managed to find the pockets of his sweats to try to hold him in place for a little while longer. He smirked and put his arms back around me to squeeze me again so I squished my face back into him. He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed without even meaning to.

“That’s the sound I would expect to come out of someone your size,” he whispered against my hair. “Not the outrageous chainsaw noise that comes out of you while you sleep.”

“Chainsaw noise?”

“The snoring, Fancy Face.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do, baby,” he said. “And it is the fucking worst.”

“You’re the fucking worst. You ruin everything when you open your mouth.”

He laughed and put just enough distance between us so that he could kiss my forehead. “Back at you, Triss.”

“Stop. Talking. Just lay here.”

He kissed the outer edge of my eye. “We need to go.”

“Five more minutes.”

“No more minutes.”

“That’s not how you negotiate,” I said.

“I don’t negotiate. I decide.”

“I hate you,” I groaned while he tried to move away from me again. “Wait, Vance. Please.”

My eyes burst open and he froze entirely. I didn’t even know what to make of the look on his face. Was he pissed? Why did it almost look like he was in pain? Why in the absolute fuck had his actual name come to my mind when I’d never called him anything other than Jersey or asshole?

“Sorry,” I said so quietly that I wasn’t even sure he’d hear me, and I let go of him so he could run away from me.

We both got ready in absolute silence after that. He even managed to order me to sit perfectly still while he changed the bandage around my thigh in that unpleasant silence. For someone who’d spent the last week wearing nothing but fancy suits out in the world, it was a little unsettling to watch the man put on a set of clothes that looked like they were meant for a war zone. He was already frightening but it seemed that much worse when he wore all black and was covered in pockets that all appeared to hold a different utensil for killing people. Once he looked the part of violence in human form, he brought his other belt and a holstered gun toward me. He held the gun out toward me.

“Know how to use one?”

I swallowed hard but nodded while I watched him release the clip to show me that it was loaded. He shoved the clip back in and pulled the slide back.

“There’s a round chambered,” he said. “Leave the safety on until you’re ready to use it.”

There was something oddly intimate about him putting the belt on for me. I was fully capable of doing such a thing myself, but I wasn’t about to interrupt him. It felt like he was taking care of me, in his own weirdly fucked up way. He slid the holster along the belt until it sat in place and he fastened the belt. As soon as his eyes came back to mine, I grabbed his face to pull him down to kiss him. Why I wanted to just stand there and sob while he held me was beyond my understanding. I’d spent so much time being afraid that fear sort of landed in the background of who I’d become, but in this moment, it was the only thing that I could feel and I was most definitely not a fan of it. I heard him chuckle when he pulled away to kiss my forehead, but I kept my eyes closed and snuck my arms around his waist.

“What if it doesn’t go the way that you —?”

“It will,” he interrupted. “I don’t fail.”

“I can appreciate the confidence, but this kind of feels like one of those famous last words moments, Jersey.”

sixty-four

JERSEY

The quiet felt crushing this time around. I usually enjoyed silence. I’d always preferred it, even. But I think I would’ve given anything on that drive for Trista to have just rambled on about nothing the way that she normally did when the goal was to annoy me with her endless chattering. The little choked sound that came out of her when I pulled the car off the side of the road and into a clearing between the trees had me reconsidering every choice I’d made about the plan I’d created, but Memphis needed me. The longer I spent thinking about it and waiting, the likelihood of them hurting her to get me to move faster increased. I didn’t even notice that I hadn’t moved at all since parking Persephone. Trista’s hand squeezing mine on top of the gearshift pulled my attention back to the moment. I slid my hand out from under hers and got out of the car quickly to get around to her side.

“I need you to not sound like a human wrecking ball between here and that house,” I said once she was standing in front of me. “I don’t have any way to know how many people they’ll have out here or where they’ll be. Silence will be what keeps us alive.”

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