Page 33 of Bed of Thorns

Time.

It seemed to have no real meaning any longer, or maybe I couldn’t think about the last twelve hours without falling into an emotional abyss. The almost thirteen-hour trip had been fraught with bouts of anger and depression, sadness yet an abundance of excitement. I couldn’t wrangle my feelings any more than I’d managed to pry information from Edmond. He’d been so quiet, locked in his own thoughts, barely acknowledging when I’d asked to stop to go to the bathroom or grab something to eat.

Food had seemed disgusting to him at first, until I’d demanded that he eat a cheeseburger, something I remembered he’d enjoyed. He’d once been able to eat three without hesitation, taking two bites per burger and swallowing them down with an ice-cold Coke. He’d been so good at grilling on charcoal all those years ago, making a feast out of limited ingredients. Yes, it was one of the memories that I’d forgotten all about, so many resurfacing that I was bombarded by visions.

I hated them, but I loved them. The dichotomy was like an iron grip around my heart.

At least he’d eaten the cheeseburger then ordered a second, enjoying the limp French fries as if they’d been a delicacy.

Now darkness was settling in, the slight glow of the remaining sun a small but inconsequential beacon of hope. He’d driven along the coast, passing through several states. When the sign appeared that we’d just entered Virginia, he seemed to relax more.

I had no clue how his cellmate could have helped him with the wad of cash he’d pulled out at the last stop, but I’d stopped asking questions after the gravesite. I’d seen tears in his eyes, but he’d quickly wiped them away as if they were a weakness. To me, they showed that there was still a reachable human being behind his tough persona. Whatever was in the box he’d dug up had something of value, but I doubted it was money. If I had to guess, I’d say he had damning evidence that no one had paid attention to.

I’d called my mother, forced to leave her a message. Maybe I felt guilty for leaving her with the asshole. I’d even begged her to leave the man one more time, but I knew she wouldn’t. What I hadn’t been strong enough to tell her was goodbye.

“We’re almost there,” he said. There was no emotion left in his tone, which worried me. “Adam said the house was well maintained.”

“Your cellmate.”

He didn’t answer.

“Then what?”

“Then we start a new life.”

The word ‘together’ was implied. I sensed that’s what he meant. I wasn’t certain how playing house was going to help unless there was more to how he was going about clearing his name. “What about money? A job?”

“We’ll have everything we need, more in time.”

He was so certain that everything was going to be exactly the way he’d pictured it in his mind. I’d never told him I’d stay forever.

Sighing, I chewed on my inner cheek as he made a turn leading to an island. Chincoteague? I was shocked. Why would he agree to such an insolated location? Then I got it. He didn’t want anyone to discover where we’d gone until he developed whatever plan of revenge I knew remained heavily on his mind. Or maybe he believed he had no other choice. That terrified me as much as my decision to come with him.

My absence would be noticed by the next day. If I knew Fernando, he’d come by my house to make certain I was alright, although I knew it would be nothing more than an effort to check up on me and what I was doing. Fernando didn’t trust me a bit more than I did him. The long trip had allowed me to process the reason I’d chosen to come back in the first place.

I didn’t like the answer.

Fear.

I’d been too terrified to remain struggling to find my own way in the world. It had been easier to slink home with my tail between my legs, pretending that I’d made a solid decision.

Bullshit.

I’d taken the coward’s way out.

He studied the GPS, then made a series of turns, finally heading onto a gravel driveway. The bright sun had shifted into twilight, the lighting little more than shadows and grays, but I could make out a few small houses in the area, all of them far apart. This wasn’t like a typical resort, as most of the people living on the island were locals. That’s all I knew about Chincoteague, other than the stories I’d heard about the horses. At least that gave me a smile.

He pulled to a stop, taking a deep breath as he peered out the windshield.

I followed his gaze but the shadows that had already formed prevented me from seeing anything but an outline of the house. “Your friend really owns this?”

“That’s what he told me, and I have no reason to doubt him. Let me find the key and go in first, just to make sure there are no issues. Stay here. Right here.”

“Where else would I go?”

Exhaling, he turned his head in my direction. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he was searching for mine just like he’d been searching for answers.

He squeezed my hand then brought it to his mouth, pressing several kisses against my skin. “I’m glad you’re here, Mercedes. I’m not certain I could do this without you.”

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