Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (15 page)

“Be careful. Driving all night is dangerous.”

Stopping was out of the question. I had explicit instructions to keep moving, instructions I wanted to curse at when they were given to me yesterday. Even in escape, we weren’t totally free. But this was better than nothing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Crawford. Thank you so much! You will love your new home.”

I glanced at Abby; the setting sun radiated her cheeks and the natural strands of red in her dark hair, hiding the paleness the winter months created.

I know we will
.

Abigail

“Wake up.” Derick nudged my shoulder, raising me from a weird dream that frayed at the edges, something full of blackness and thick orange flames, something I felt stuck and paralyzed in.

I opened my eyes, but the inside of the car was just as dark. The only light came from the faint glow of the instruments on the dashboard.

“What time is it?” I asked, blinking repeatedly to clear the fuzzy sleep from my eyes.

The book slipped from my chest and landed next to my feet. I couldn’t even remember reading, or when I fell asleep.

“3:00 a.m. I can’t drive anymore.”

“Where are we?” I looked around and saw reflective signs for gas stations, hotels, and… “Does that say Jacksonville? You drove that far?”

“Yep. Even sat for a couple hours in construction traffic somewhere in Georgia. Or maybe it was North Carolina. I can’t remember.” He yawned and veered over the rumble strip.

My head vibrated, as well as everything else in the car. “Take the next exit. I’ll drive.”

Derick pulled into the parking lot of a Howard Johnson and could barely get out of his seatbelt, let alone open the door to switch sides.

“Should we stay the night?”

“No. Must keep moving.” He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, his eyes half-closed, his arms limp at his sides.

“Why?”

“I would prefer to be as far away as possible.”

“I’d say we’re pretty far, Derick. I think we should stop for the night.”

Turning his head, he stared at me, the skin below his eyes puffy and red. “I can’t protect you here.”

I knew it. I knew this all seemed too easy and that Derick had a bigger plan.
He always does
! “Spill. Now.”

“I’m sorry.” He dug in his pocket, pulled out a piece of crumpled notebook paper, then handed it to me. “Go ahead. Read it. My dad gave it to me yesterday.”

The white-lined paper was a letter addressed to Derick.

“
Your mother and I know you’re planning to run
.
She’s seen it
.
Your destiny is to be with that girl, and you have to protect her, but you must understand there are many who wish to see her dead
.
Abby must be kept safe so the planes remain closed until we figure out a way to work with our allies to gain control of Kalós. You cannot trust anyone, not even us
—
we have already failed her in so many ways
.”

I glared at Derick, but only one of his eyes remained open—barely—so I’m sure the full effect of my anger was lost with his exhaustion. “When were you going to tell me? I thought this was
spontaneous
! Well, I knew you’d planned it, but not a plan
with
your parents. How could you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t plan this with my parents. They only knew because my mom sees the future. And I didn’t intentionally keep anything from you.” He took a deep breath and leaned impossibly harder against the steering wheel. “Keep reading. Please.”

His eyes closed.

Ugh
. “
We’ve left instructions for you in a safety deposit box at your bank, instructions we’ve erased from our memories
.
Get the contents of the box, then follow whatever directions are there
.”

Derick yawned. “The notes they left said for me to pick a place I loved, a place where you would be happy, and not to stop until we got there. Because that location would be the safest for us both. I wanted to go to Longboat well before Dad shared his letter with me,” he mumbled. “Ever since we got back that summer and you were upset that I was gone so long, I’ve wanted to take you there. So when you mentioned the Gulf Coast, I knew Longboat was going to be our new home.”

I ignored him. How could I stay mad? He knew me well enough to understand that after all these years I
still
wanted to go to one of the best beaches in the world. “
Take the book
.
It will tell you so much about yourself, her, and how to keep her out of harm’s way
.” I stared at Derick. “At least your parents seem concerned for me.”

“Secrets or not, they’ve always been wonderful, and they’ve always loved you.” He rubbed his eyes. Poor guy. Derick had driven for over ten hours straight. Because he worried about me. Because he
loved
me.

I thought back to the conversation that made me want to leave, and all the innuendos I didn’t understand. “Why do you think Mark’s dad said you were Mark’s greatest competition?”

Sounds of heavy breathing were my only response, so I finished reading.

“
The most important thing, Derick, is to leave your cell phones behind
.
Do not try to contact us unless it’s through the game
.” Mr. Crawford spoke at least
one
truth: the way to contact other Kalóans was through some stupid online role-playing game. “
We will see you again
.
We know you love Abby, and she loves you
.
Take care, and do not assume you are safe
.
Ever
.”

I carefully placed the note inside the book and slammed it closed, my hands shaking the entire time; we were both in danger, warned not to assume we were safe—ever. The underlying threat of what that meant sent chills rippling across my skin, even with the layers of long-sleeves and coats that we would soon no longer need. And the mention of his parents not trusting themselves… why? How could his parents, of all the consistent and loyal people in the world, not trust themselves? My mind whirled, spinning the aged, yet hard faces of Mr. Crawford and Mr. Snellings together, both men saying and implying horrible—
gross
—things.

I shook my head and focused on the more important facts: we were still runaways. I don’t know why that seemed so important, but that’s how I felt. I also felt Derick’s failure to tell me about his dad’s letter wasn’t really a lie, more an
unfortunate
omission due to a lack of time. So I refused to stay upset with him when we were venturing into the unknown, side-by-side.

Our futures were intertwined, and our present suddenly sent my stomach reeling. People who lived together and loved each other slept together. I’d shared a bed with Derick once, but not like this. Not as a couple who pulled over and made out on the side of the road. Not as a man and woman who went to work and paid bills then came home and—“Derick, wake up.”

He groaned, but we couldn’t stay here. Longboat was calling. For reasons more important than just my safety.

“Der-
rick
!”

Opening his eyes, he leaned back on his seat. “I’m up. Are you still mad at me?”

“No, but we need to keep moving, remember?”

“You okay to drive?” he asked, fingers already on the handle.

I’d never seen him so tired, so worn out, but seriously, he was in no condition to drive, and sleep was the last thing on my mind. “Switch seats before we become murder statistics or something.”

Derick got out of his seat, stormed around the car, and opened my door before I could blink an eye. “That wasn’t funny, Abby.”

A warm, tropical breeze wafted through my hair and caressed my cheeks, but his icy stare could have frozen lava, or rivaled the less than tropical temperatures back home. He offered his hand, but I was ashamed to take it, afraid somehow he would be as cold as his gaze. I didn’t want that from Derick. I wanted the gentle, curious boy I’d kissed in a coffee shop. I wanted my best friend without a threat of world destruction, without the hurt on his face right now.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t implying you were fail—”

He took hold of my elbow and helped me to my feet. We were so close; his chest touched mine with each of his quickened breaths, and my pulse raced away from me. “If anything happens to you, or if those guys track us before we make it to safety, it’ll be the last failure this world remembers. I could never live with myself if you were hurt. Not because I care about winning a war, but because I care about you. Period.”

Derick wasn’t cold. Worse. He was hot. Angry. Hurt. Protective—I liked the last part.

The last part meant more to me than I’d probably admit.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

A car pulled into the hotel’s lot, high beams shifting across palm trees and parked cars until they stopped on us. The high-pitched screeching of brakes and low rev of an engine were the first real noises I noticed since we arrived. I’d been so focused on the letter and my daydream of living with Derick, the realization we might have people following us hadn’t set in. Until the car stopped.

Derick squinted and glanced toward the rude people who intruded on our private moment. No way had my kidnappers followed us. My imagination would not take control. I wouldn’t let it.

“Get in. We need to go,” he said, urging me to sit.

“You’re too tired to drive.”

“
Now
.”

The car’s lights flashed a few times, nearly blinding me.

“Please?” he asked, as though his resolve had unhinged.

That scared me, so I sat, strapped on my belt, and sweated like I’d run five miles on a humid summer day. Stupid nerves.

Derick jumped in; he threw the shifter into reverse and peeled out of the parking space.

A horn blared through the quiet night, and lights flicked on in almost every hotel room. No kidnapper would want to draw attention to their victims.

I let out a deep breath.

We passed right by the silver Crown Victoria with dark tinted windows, too dark to see through, then raced onto I-95. Derick kept his eyes on the road, his feet alternating between gas, brake, and clutch.

I checked through the back window to see if the car followed us but couldn’t tell one set of headlights from another. The amount of traffic so early in the morning was unbelievable. As were our tired, overactive imaginations. “I think we’re safe.”

Blue and red lights flashed in the side mirror.

“How fast are you going?”

“Eighty five.”

“
Derick
. Was it not bad enough that car in the hotel parking lot freaked us out, but now you have to add speeding to our list of problems? What if my parents reported me as a runaway? What if your parents had to go along with it? What if—?”

The cop blew right by us.

Derick glanced at me, a big grin stretched up both sides of his face. “Guess we don’t have to answer those what ifs right now.”

“Can you slow down at least?”

“I’ll do better than that. I’m going to let you drive.”

“You think it’s smart to stop now? Here?”

He drove me crazy. First, he wanted me to drive. Then, he forced me not to. Now, he wanted to stop on the side of the highway. Again.

“I think if I’m going to keep this car invisible any longer, I’m going to need to do so while not concentrating on traffic.”

Oh. Jerk. “You
knew
.”

“That the police weren’t coming after us?”

“Yes. You knew, and you let me worry.”

Laughing, Derick pulled over. “I told you you’re cute when you’re angry.”

I flung open the door, then rushed around to switch seats. “How long have you been doing this?”

He shrugged. “Off and on since you fell asleep just outside Richmond.”

“I slept that long?” Maybe the jerk title belonged to me.

“The last few days haven’t exactly been easy. You needed your rest. So I hid us at gas stations, when I felt like speeding, or when there weren’t a lot of other cars on the road.” Derick stretched his arms behind him, squeezing the black leather headrest with his biceps. “But just a few more hours and we’ll be free.”

We shared a smile—his melted my heart—then I took the exit for I-10. Just a few more hours, and I would have what I’d wanted for five years.

I wasn’t about to allow anything to take that away.