Chapter 154: The Follower

The road stretched on for miles. Endless in a way that made it hard to tell how long they had been driving.

Del had curled into the passenger seat hours ago, her legs tucked close, her head resting against the window. The glass was cold against her temple, but she didn’t move. Outside, the world passed in long stretches of black and dim headlights, the occasional sign breaking the monotony.

She wasn’t really watching anymore. She was thinking.

A month. It had been a month now. Her chest tightened. She closed her eyes briefly.

Oliver had been easy to fall for. That was the part she kept coming back to. The way he talked, the way he looked at her, the way he made things feel lighter when they shouldn’t have been.

The sign came out of nowhere.

Welcome to Texas

Del’s eyes opened. Her stomach dropped slightly. They were here.

Oliver noticed the shift in her posture.

“We’ll stop soon,” he said. “Next decent place we see.”

Del nodded faintly.

“I need that,” she said. “I’m starving.”

“And you’ve been pretending you’re not for hours.”

She didn’t argue.

The motel they found wasn’t much better than the last one. It was a low building with chipped paint and a neon sign that buzzed faintly. A diner sat just off to the side, its windows lit, a few cars scattered in the lot.

Oliver pulled in and killed the engine.

“Good enough,” he said.

Del didn’t wait. She pushed the door open and stepped out, stretching slightly as her feet hit the ground.

Her body ached. Everything felt stiff, heavy.

Inside, the front desk sat just off the diner. A middle-aged woman stood behind it, her expression soft in a way that felt genuine at first glance. Her hair was pulled back loosely, and she looked up as they approached.

“Evening,” she said.

Oliver stepped forward, already pulling out an ID. “Room for one night.”

She took it, glancing down.

Brennan Lynch.

Her eyes flicked up to him briefly, then back down. “Just the two of you?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, already reaching for the key. As she handed it over, her attention shifted to Del. Just for a second. But it lingered.

“You alright, honey?” she asked quietly.

Del smiled faintly. “I’m fine.”

The woman studied her face a moment longer. “You sure?”

Before Del could answer, Oliver stepped slightly closer.

“She’s tired,” he said, his tone still calm and assuring. “Long drive.”

The woman looked between them. Then she nodded slowly.

“Room’s down the end,” she said, placing the key on the counter.

Oliver picked it up.

“I’ll send some food over if you want,” she added.

“I’ll call,” he said.

They turned to leave. Del didn’t miss the way the woman kept watching them.

Once inside the room, Del set her bag down and exhaled.

“I don’t want room service,” she said quickly. “I want to eat out there.”

Oliver glanced at her. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He studied her for a second, then nodded. “Alright.”

When they went out, the diner was nearly empty.

They took a booth near the back. A waitress dropped menus in front of them, but Del barely looked at hers.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, already sliding out of the booth.

Oliver watched her go.

The bathroom was small. Del locked the door behind her and leaned against the sink. For a second, she just stood there, staring at her reflection. The blonde hair. The unfamiliar face.

Her hands gripped the edge of the counter. Her chest rose too fast. She closed her eyes.

“Don’t,” she whispered to herself.

But the feeling was already there. She let out a shaky breath, pressing her hand over her mouth.

A soft knock broke through.

“Hey,” a voice said gently. “You in there?”

Del froze.

“It’s me,” the woman from the front desk said. “Just… checking.”

Del hesitated, then unlocked the door slightly.

The woman stood there, concern written plainly across her face.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said quietly. “But if that man out there is hurting you—”

“He’s not,” Del said quickly. The words came out too fast.

The woman’s eyes softened, but she didn’t look convinced. “You can be honest with me.”

“I am.” Del forced a small, steady breath. “I’m just tired.”

The woman held her gaze a second longer. Then she nodded.

“Alright,” she said softly. “If you need anything…”

“I know.”

Before anything else could be said, a shadow moved behind the woman.

Oliver stepped into view, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. “Everything okay?”

The woman straightened slightly.

“She’s fine,” Del said quickly.

Oliver’s gaze lingered on the woman for a moment longer than necessary. Not threatening but cold. Then he turned to Del.

“Food’s coming.”

She nodded.

When they’re back at the table, they eat in silence at first. Del forced herself to eat, even though her appetite came and went in waves.

Halfway through, Oliver spoke. “I think we’re being followed.”

Del looked up. “What?”

He didn’t look alarmed. Just certain.

“I noticed a car from earlier,” he said. “It’s been behind us since Tennessee.”

Her stomach tightened. “You’re sure.”

“Pretty sure.” He set his fork down. “I’m going to check.”

Del’s grip tightened around her glass. “Now?”

“Better now than later.” He stood. “Stay here.”

She nodded. He left without another word.

Del went back to the room, and it felt too quiet without Oliver.

She sat on the edge of the bed, listening. Minutes passed. When the door finally opened again, she stood immediately.

“Well?”

“Empty,” Oliver said. “Car’s there. No one inside.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I waited,” he said. “No one came back.”

Then a knock. Both of them froze.

Oliver moved first, stepping toward the door. He opened it. A man stood there. Graying beard. Thinning hair combed over.

“Daniel,” the man said to Oliver.

Del’s eyes flicked to Oliver. It was another name and another version of him.

“George Harvey. Surprised to see you here,” Oliver said, but his face didn’t show at all that he was surprised. He looked pissed.

George stepped closer.

“I saw you,” he continued. “Back in Pennsylvania.”

Oliver didn’t move. “What do you want?”

George’s eyes shifted briefly to Del.

“You changed your hair,” he said. “That’s what tipped me off.” He looked back at Oliver. “Been following you since West Virginia. Through Tennessee. All the way here.”

Del’s chest tightened.

Oliver stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

The voices dropped, but not enough to disappear completely.

“What are you doing?” Oliver said.

“Back at the shelter,” George replied instead of answering the question. “I knew something was off about you.”

Then a sharp sound followed. A struggle.

Del gasped, and with shaking hands, she moved toward the door instinctively. Then it opened.

Oliver stood there, breathing slightly heavier. Behind him, George slumped forward and fell unconscious. He grabbed him under the arms and dragged him inside and shut the door behind them.