Chapter 64

He closed his eyes tight and wished he could turn back time. He’d been so, so happy—

No. That wasn’t for him. One more day of work, and he’d plan his escape, run again.

He hadn’t had to pretend to be happy for months, but he hadn’t forgotten how. He made his way into the kitchen, put on his apron, and went to work.

Scooter came in, kissed his cheek. God, Scooter’s smile was so genuine. Andy wanted to trust it, but he didn’t dare. He smiled back, teased, flicked soapy water. Scooter left, went out to talk to customers, and Andy waited until Jason had turned back to the grill to let his shoulders sag in relief.

A warm hand on his shoulder, small. “Andrushka? Are you all right?”

“Of course,” he responded quickly, but he was aware of her gaze on him, doubting. Kat was…hard to fool.

She was his friend.…my best friend…She might help him—

No. He’d taken enough from her. And she had been Scooter’s friend first; she would try to defend him. Might even stop Andy from leaving.

He smiled for her: tired. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” he told her. “I’ll be okay.”

She squeezed his shoulder, firm, comforting. “You tell us if you need to go, okay? We can cover for you for a night.”

God, he was going to miss Kat so much. “Yeah, I will. But it’ll be okay.”

The dinner rush ran late, and Andy really was tired. Scooter brushed a hand across his back, and Andy couldn’t suppress a shiver. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Fine.” Andy summoned a smile. Almost over. It was almost over.

“You sure?”

“Bit of a headache,” Andy lied. “Didn’t sleep great last night.”

Scooter ducked his head, smiled. “Yeah, I might’ve had some things on my mind last night, too.”

Andy caught the next shiver before it vibrated out of him. “Might turn in early tonight,” he said. Apologetic. “Sorry.”

“No, hey, you need to take care of yourself. Anything I can do?” God, he was so concerned. Andy could have fallen in love with him so easily. Had already been well on the way.

“No, I think I just need to rest.”

“Okay.” Scooter kissed his forehead. “Let me know if I can help.”

Just stay away.“I will.”

Closing. Finally. He skipped cleanup, pleading exhaustion, and trudged up to the apartment, feeling Kat’s eyes on his back.

He walked Trick. Avoided the florist, even though it had been closed for hours. He should probably be grateful to her for the warning, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself.

Trick was clingy. He could tell Andy wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t lie to Trick, but he didn’t have to. Back in the apartment, he sat on the floor and hugged the dog, burying his face in the soft, fluffy fur, and cried.

He packed his clothes and toiletries, a few of the small trinkets. He had more cash than when he’d left New York; that was good. He hid it in every nook of the backpack and his clothes he could think of, to minimize the damage a pickpocket could do.

He left the books and the tablet, wrapped up in the “Somebody in Virginia Beach Loves Me” T-shirt. And then he waited.

Three A.M. Everything was quiet. Everyone was asleep.

Aching, Andy stood up and pulled on the backpack.

Trick lifted his head, jingle of the collar loud in the quiet. “Lay down,” Andy told him. “Go to sleep.”

Trick whined softly, but did as he was told. Good dog.

Andy left the apartment key on the table by the door. He didn’t let himself look back. He didn’t think he had that much strength. Carefully, silently, he crept down the stairs, past the restaurant to the road.

Ten miles to town.

He started walking. 25

The sky was pink and gold and the humidity already unbearable when Andy saw Harry-Rex’s hardware store. There was a city bus stop only a few blocks further down, and that would take him to the Greyhound station. It was almost over. Andy resolutely did not think about the last few weeks, how happy he’d been. How he’d been part of a family. How much he loved—No.

He gritted his teeth. He was notthinking about that. He was thinking about how much his feet hurt. He was thinking about where the hell he was going to go from here. He was thinking about not letting that oncoming jogger run him over. He was thinking about giving up and going back to New York and letting Nick and his father fight over his scraps.

He was thinking…how familiar that jogger looked. Blond and fit and running as if something was chasing him. Headphones in his ears, sunglasses wrapped around his face. Big chest. Huge arms. Almost like—

The jogger came to an abrupt halt, mouth hanging open. “Andy?”

Of course. Andy closed his eyes. God, he was tired. “Jason.”

Jason ripped the headphones out of his ears with a swipe of one hand, took the shades off, and pushed them onto his sweat-soaked hair. “Are…is everyone…you look terrible. Are you all right?”

No. Andy sighed. “It’s okay, Jason, you can just…finish your run.”

Jason blinked. “You’re running. Again. What happened?”

“I can’t stay. Don’t…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Tell Kat it’s not her fault.”

“Look,” Jason said, wiping sweat off his face. “Come with me, for a bit. I’ll buy you a juice, and you tell me why you’re leaving. And then I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I’ll borrow Kat’s car—Wait, she’ll be on her way to work by now. I’ll…I’ll call a cab and take you to the airport, if you want. Buy you a ticket. Just tell me what’s happened.”

He wanted to say no. A clean break would be better. But he’d been walking for hours already, and he was tired and thirsty, and…And Jason and Kat, they deserved the truth. He nodded, not looking at Jason’s face. “Okay. Fine.”

Jason started to reach out a hand, drew it back. “It’s not far, just around the corner,” he said. “Did you walk all the way out here? Lord, you’re relentless. Come on. You need to hydrate.” Jason reached into the runner’s pack he was wearing and pulled out a silver pouch about twice the size of a ketchup packet. “Here.”

Andy peered at the words on the packet and tried to make them make sense together. Chocolate. Caffeinated. Caloric. Gel. A couple of days ago, Andy would have mocked Jason ruthlessly for having such a thing, and everyone would have laughed. But it was fuel. He would need that. He ripped the top off and squeezed it into his mouth. It tasted like cake frosting. Sort of. Hard to swallow, with his mouth so dry, but he managed to work it down. The sugar and caffeine hit was almost immediate, like a buzz under his skin. Don’t be ungrateful. “Thanks.”

Jason guided him to a little hipster place around the corner that sold overpriced, over-sugared protein powder and fruit-juice smoothies that probably had more calories than most people needed in a day. “Sit here. Please don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” That was nice. Andy didn’t want to talk to anyone new, didn’t want to go through the motions of ordering anything, have to make small talk with the cashier.