[Aldo]
By the time we pull into the motel that night, we’ve had many hundreds of miles roll by under our tires.
We’re in Virginia, having crossed all of North Carolina in one day, I am fucking exhausted from driving and being on edge.
I still haven’t told Dawn about the note.
Or the men.
Or the fact that I did all that because of how I felt about her.
Then I curse Andre again. Why the hell hasn’t he picked up all day?
Dawn’s in our room having a shower while I check on the van, and I use it as an excuse to call Andre.
He has not answered or replied to any of my texts. Not that I’ve outright asked him what business he’s been up to with the Russians, but he’s never been so slow to reply to anything.
My paranoia over the last few days has put me over the edge.
And for some reason I keep not telling Dawn. Why? What would it solve? I’d just be lumping the worry onto her, and she’s had enough of her brother.
Am I using that as an excuse to not anger her again? Around and around in circles I go, thinking these stupid thoughts.
He doesn’t answer his phone again, and I lock the thing and jam it in my pocket.
The van is fine; nothing’s happened since the crash. The men didn’t tamper with it back in the gas station parking lot, and even though I had a quick peek, there appeared to be nothing for tracking.
All that had been done by them was the addition of the note.
I hear a crack and draw the pistol from my waist band. I’m pointing at shadows and seeing nothing. My heart hammers, and I feel my body tingling with adrenaline. I’m ready to finally end this!
But nothing happens.
Then the crack sounds again.
It’s nothing though; I finally see what’s causing it. There’s a cat down the end, playing with a tin can that’s fallen out of the bin.
I holster the gun back in my waistband, thinking myself a great idiot. Maybe I should put the gun away? Maybe I should sleep out in the van just in case.
Who knows what those guys will do? Do they think Andre is with me? Do they think we’re hiding Andre?
Or think that somehow Dawn is involved? Do they know she’s his sister?
This is literally all I’ve thought about all afternoon. I think I hurt Dawn’s feelings by how much I retracted this afternoon after our lunch.
I know how difficult it would’ve been for her to open up like that. I’ve barely heard the full story from Andre, And he’s barely spoken of it.
The most I got from him was that one time he went back to the city they’d come from. He went all the way back when he was eighteen and had a look at his old man.
He wanted to know what he was like or if he had a new family he was terrifying.
He didn’t.
But that was because he wasn’t there.
The neighbor across the street said that he’d died of liver poisoning a few years ago. She hadn’t liked him. No one had.
She said that his last years he was even worse, just a terribly angry and lonely man. He’d never stopped drinking.
My heart has slowed since freaking out with the cat and tin can outside. As I enter the room, I hear that Dawn is still showering and most likely still fuming at me.
I’d been a monosyllable. I’m such an idiot.
By the time we got to Virginia, she was boiling, simmering with frustration at me. She was jabbing away at her phone, and when I mentioned stopping, relief washed out all over her face. Finally, freedom from my cabin fever induced roadtrip.
Some romantic trip Sophie had planned for us…
I knock on the door, and Dawn doesn’t answer. I get the message.
I head back to the bed and set an alarm for early the next morning, all I want to do is sleep. I’ll just rest my eyes until Dawn gets out. Then I can apologize and-
But I don’t even finish the thought.
I’m asleep.
Click!
Click!
I jolt awake and immediately jerk my body. My wrists snap with pain and my eyes flash open, and I look around the room. My heart lurches into my mouth, and I freak the fuck out.