Page 18 of Liam James
Liam caught my eye from across the midway. One look at my face and he was moving toward me, weaving through the crowd like he already knew.
“We need to leave,” I said the second he reached me.
His eyes swept the crowd once, calm and quick, like a man used to trusting instincts that kept him alive.
“All right,” he said softly. “We go now.”
Liam
I didn’t argue.
Didn’t ask why.
Because the way Jenny said it—low, steady, certain—told me everything I needed to know.
And as we cut back through the crowd toward the truck, I felt it too.
That shift in the air.
That sense that something was closing in.
And this time, we might not be far enough ahead.
14
Liam
The morning sun came up too bright for how little any of us had slept.
Poppy was quiet in the back seat, staring out the window like the windmills spinning in the fields might give her answers she couldn’t ask out loud. Jenny sat beside me, arms wrapped around herself, sipping coffee like it was the only thing holding her together.
She hadn’t said much since the carnival.
I hadn’t asked.
Because I saw the look on her face last night—the kind that told me she didn’t get spooked easily. And when she said we needed to leave, I didn’t argue because I felt it too, even if I couldn’t explain it.
“Couple of hours to the next town,” I said, glancing at her.
She nodded but didn’t answer.
Something was still eating at her.
Jenny
I hated this feeling.
Like I was missing something right in front of my face. Like he was closer than I thought.
Every time a car pulled onto the highway behind us, my stomach knotted until it turned off or passed.
Liam kept his eyes on the road, calm as ever, one hand loose on the wheel like he didn’t have a care in the world. But I saw his jaw tighten whenever headlights stayed too long in the mirror.
“We should call Forest,” I said finally.
“We will,” he promised. “As soon as we hit the diner up ahead. Better signal there.”
I didn’t like waiting. But I didn’t argue.
