Page 142 of My Revenant
Another day. At least tonight I wouldn’t have to sleep in my car. I’d stolen the tip jar from a bar, the cash just enough to pay for a room so I could shower for the first time in days rather than just wash up in a gas station bathroom sink.
I was so fucking tired. Driving with no destination. No plan. No rules. None of it mattered anymore.
I barely registered the heat of the water over my skin. The only clothing I owned was in the shower with me so I could wash them using the motel’s complimentary “lemongrass-scented” body wash.
After I’d hung them in front of the heater to dry, I collapsed onto the bed. I hated the way the sheets felt against my skin, hated the old musty smell that all motels seemed to magically possess. Mostly, I hated falling asleep without his arms around me, or his body slotted perfectly against mine.
Did he miss that too?
The thought prevented my exhaustion from taking hold. It was more pressing than sleep. In the year I’d been gone, had he found someone else to warm his bed?
I was the one who had left him. Yet the thought of him moving on with anyone else sent a wave of nausea through my empty stomach. If he was hunting me down, that had to mean he hadn’t moved on from me. It had to.
The tingle of tears forming in the corners of my eyes gave me something to focus on besides the popcorn ceiling of the room, until they left me, dispersed into my hairline.
I didn’t sleep. The darkness of the room eased as the sun rose and light filtered through the half-closed curtains. Outside, other guests were waking up, getting the fuck out of this piece of shit motel. They all had somewhere to go. A destination. A purpose.
I listened to the footsteps outside my window. The steady clink of something metal against the concrete. It slowed outside my door before continuing on.
How much longer could I keep doing this?
I was tired in ways sleep wouldn’t fix.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand with my alarm. With a groan, I sat up and let the covers fall away.
Another day.
My clothes weremostlydry. The slight dampness made my skin itchy as I dressed. It didn’t matter. It was time to go.
I had nothing else to pack. I’d run out of cigarettes and hadn’t had money to buy more. Still, I pulled the lighter from my pocket, my thumb tracing over the patterns. He’d probably want this back. Probably regretted ever giving it to me in the first place.
Well, he’d have to catch me first.
I put it safely back where it belonged, in its pocket, and made for the door, uncertain where I’d end up tonight, or even what direction I was going to drive in.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost tripped over the bag in front of my room.
Rage sparked in my core that someone would just leave their shit in my way. But then I looked at the bag properly, and rage turned to ice. Because I’d seen it before. It wasmybag. The one I’d left behind in Hollow Creek.
“Run, Jonah, run,” said the logical thoughts.
“Find him. He was here. Find him,” said the demons.
My hands gripped the railing, my upper body hanging over the edge as I searched for any sign of him. My eyes flicked over all sources of movement with desperation. A couple in the parking lot, a man walking his dog across the street. No Dex.
I returned to the bag like it was a bomb I didn’t know how to defuse and wasn’t sure I should even try. But what if there was something in there? Some message?Something.
In the next moment I was back in the room, the zipper of the bag busted open and the contents spilled over the bed. My clothing, and a familiar old Bible with the little savings I’d collected still tucked safely in its cover.
My eyes burned. What was this?
A threat? A peace offering? If he was here, why didn’t he just catch me and be done with it?
I shoved everything back into the bag, taking it with me back to my car. Maybe he’d snuck a tracker into the seams of something. I thought about it and decided I didn’t care. He clearly had ways to find me already anyway.
Then I was on the road again. My car sped down the highway as if I had someplace I needed to get to. Further. Faster. As if I could drive fast enough to escape my own thoughts.
The engine hiccuped. My eyes flicked to the fuel gauge to see the needle hovered well below empty.Shit. No, no, no. I just needed to get to the next town. I had money for gas now. I could fill up and keep going. Somewhere. It hiccuped again. Then it groaned. Sputtered. And it was out.
