Rules of Survival(39)

We hurried down the row and I pulled up on the handle. It was open!

I made a move to climb inside, but Shaun stopped me. His expression was serious. “We’re both trying so hard to be what our parents wanted to make us that we have no idea who we are. Who we want to be.” He lifted his cuffed hand. “I’m starting to think this was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

I knew he meant the cuffs giving him some clarity, but the way he was looking at me, added to the full moon and the beautiful clear sky with stars streaming down overhead… It almost made me think I wanted to kiss him again. How easy it would be to just lean forward. A single, blissful brush of my lips over his. Would he kiss me back? Wrap strong arms around me and drag me close?

“The best thing?” I whispered, moving forward a bit. Our faces were close now. Nearly touching. A part of me screamed, do it! Push forward that last fraction of an inch and just do it. Another part of me wanted desperately for him to be the one to close the distance.

It was just a kiss…

It was his words from the roadside that stopped me. If he wanted to kiss me again, he would do it. Could do it. I was standing here, waiting. He had the perfect opportunity. But he didn’t.

“We should get inside before someone sees us,” he said, voice slightly hoarse. It shattered the spell and brought me crashing back to the here and now. It also reminded me that it was freezing outside. Funny how I’d forgotten about that while he was looking at me…

I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. Instead, I climbed the three small stairs and stepped into the camper. The small light above the kitchenette sink was on, illuminating the place with a soft, subtle glow. The table was set for two with a fake rose in the center and two wineglasses full of what looked like wine. I picked one up. It was heavy and filled with some kind of solid gel.

Beyond the small table was a couch with a coffee table and game of chess set up to look like it was in progress. Black was beating white.

“Is someone living in this thing already?” Shaun whispered.

“Nah. This is what they do. They set it up to look homey. This way when people come to check it out, they can see all the ‘fun possibilities.’”

“That’s a little creepy,” he said, picking up one of the glasses. He tapped it lightly against the table. The clinking sound echoed through the camper. “All it needs is a few mannequins to complete the creep factor.”

“Yeah. No doubt.” I set the food bag down on the table. “Let’s eat before the food turns arctic.”

We settled at the table and ate in relative silence. Shaun inhaled his burger in three large bites, and after I took my first bite, I had to wonder if he’d stuffed it down just to get it over with. The meat was rubbery and had an odd metallic taste. Like they’d tried to marinate it and the experiment had gone horribly wrong. I managed four small bites and pushed it aside, diving for the fries instead. Those weren’t as bad.

“So this is what it’s always been like for you? Running from place to place? Even before Melissa died?”

There was an odd look on his face. A mixture of horror and judgment. It bothered me. “It wasn’t as bad as you’re making it sound. Yeah, we bounced a lot. But we also lived.”

“What was the longest you ever stayed in one place? How did you even go to school?”

“I think our longest was six months.” I remembered the place like it was yesterday. We’d been in a small town in Virginia. I was on the verge of competing in the school science fair, and had almost made a friend or two, and then boom. Mom woke me up in the middle of the night, bags in hand, and whisked me out the door. “I bounced from school to school—we forged the papers—I never actually finished a grade, though. But it was safer that way.”

“Safer? Safer than what?”

I had a pretty good idea of where he was going with this and it made my muscles tense. “I guess it was safer than letting these people find her—and me.”

“But they did find her,” he said softly. “For all the hiding she did, and all the places she dragged you to, it didn’t do any good. She kept you from living a normal life, and in the end it was all for nothing.”

I felt like he’d slapped me. And worse than that, slapped Mom. I knew my life had been far from perfect, but Mom had kept me safe. She’d done what needed to be done. “She did the best she could with what she had.”

“No, Kayla. She didn’t. If she had information that could have put this person away and she didn’t do anything, then she didn’t do the best with what she had.”

“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” I said. It was a struggle to control my voice. He didn’t know. All the things Mom had done. Everything she’d sacrificed so we could stay together. “What should she have done? Turn herself in so I could grow up in the foster care system?”

“That’s not what—”

“Or maybe she should never have even had me?”

His eyes went wide. “What—no! That’s not that I meant, and I think you know it.”

And I did know. He wasn’t dissing Mom or her parenting skills, he was just stating the truth—and that’s why I was so mad. Why I’d gotten so defensive when he’d hinted at it back at the laundry room after we ran from the hotel, and again in the tunnel. Because deep down, in the quiet, shady parts of my heart, a big part of me agreed with him.