“Then what?”
“Then I kill Craig and bring you and Kady home.”
She takes a deep breath. “I only have ten percent battery left, Nolan.”
“Fuck, okay. Listen to me. You have to do this on your own.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can do this, Cora. Get to the shore. Ditch the boat. Run. It’s eight forty right now, which means I’ll be there around five tonight. That’ll be four your time.”
“Right, time zones. I forgot about those.”
“Four o’clock. You’ve just gotta keep safe until four. I’m coming for you, Cora baby, but you’ve gotta stay away from them. Do you hear me? You’ve gotta do it.”
“I can do it. I promise, I’ll be here when you arrive.”
“I love you, Cora. Don’t let those fucking bastards take you.”
“I won’t. I won’t. I can do this.” She goes quiet for a moment and there’s only the sound of the wind and the motor. Then, “I love you too, Nolan. I’ve gotta go now.”
The line goes dead.
Her words remain. I love you too. Like a cannon blast to my chest.
I sit in the deep quiet that follows as I drive. My foot gets heavy, pushing down the gas, and the Rover responds. I barrel down I-20 toward Louisiana and that cabin and those girls, not knowing what I’ll find when I get there, but I’m not stopping until I have Cora in my arms.
Until she’s safe again.
All she has to do is run and keep on running.
Nine hours to go.
Chapter 23
Cora
I hit the glass with my elbow three times before it breaks. It hurts like hell and my fingers are tingling but I’m able to reach in through the small back door window and unlock the bolt and the handle. It creaks open and inside is dark and smells musty.
“Are you sure about this?” Kady whispers, looking around nervously, moving from foot to foot.
“We need to find somewhere we can hide out for the next few hours until Nolan gets here.” I step into the cabin and look around. It’s an old, outdated kitchen with lots of wood and vinyl flooring. “I don’t think anyone’s here and it’s not like we’re gonna steal anything.”
“You already broke their back door.”
“I’ll get Nolan to leave them some money.”
She smiles nervously and I stride into the house as she shuts the back door and locks it again.
The place is clear and looks like nobody’s been there for a while. There are pictures of a nice family on the wall and an older couple hugging each other out near what looks a lot like the lake we just escaped from. We ditched the boat a couple hours ago near the shoreline and waded in from the water, soaking our clothes, but fortunately it’s hot out this time of year and it didn’t matter. We trudged into the forest like Nolan said and began to move counter-clockwise around the lake, keeping it barely within view as we went, picking our way through the trees. I heard motorcycles rumbling in the distance once or twice, but I could never tell if it was Craig and his cronies, and I didn’t want to go find out.
Eventually we found this place. It’s secluded, back from the main roads down a gravel path, a lot like the cabin we just escaped from. There are no cars parked anywhere nearby. The spiderwebs are thick and untamed on the front porch and the place looks dark and quiet and abandoned. I decided breaking and entering is worth the risk so long as we can stay safe for a while.
I find the electrical box in the garage and flip on the breakers. The house hums to life. I find the main water shutoff valve next to the well pump, open that up, and listen to the pipes fill. For a second, I stay in the garage, eyes closed and breathing slowly, trying to process everything we just went through to get here: Jaxson’s ugly death, the chase onto the lake, the trip across, the conversation with Nolan, the desperate hike in wet clothes and muddy sneakers.
And Kady’s ugly confession.
I haven’t processed what she said yet. It’s still marinating in my brain and I’m trying to imagine what it must’ve been like for her, seeing Momma like that, pulling the trigger. The way she described it sounds like she’s been thinking about that moment for a long time now, thinking about it and obsessing about it in detail, but I don’t know if that makes it better or worse. Either way it’s a heavy hell to carry alone on her shoulders, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make her feel better about it.
Because she’s right. Momma was right. I never would’ve pulled that trigger. I never would’ve been strong enough to do it.
But maybe Kady loved Momma more than I did, in some twisted way.