“Yeah, but—”
“Doesn’t exist. Never had a roommate.”
“What?”
“I’ve been secretly sleeping on the estate for a while now,” he says. “Carolson offered me a room, but I didn’t feel like taking any more of his charity than I absolutely had to. And then—well, it’s a long story. Just suffice it to say that I needed a place to stay, and I took advantage of an opportunity. Of course, I wasn’t really supposed to be here. And I didn’t want word to get back to Carolson or Haymore that my car was mysteriously hanging out in the employee lot all night—the other guys had it out for me as it was. So I found somewhere else to park it.”
“But it’s all trees out here.”
“There’s an old service road around the outside of the property,” he says. He looks over at me. “Shouldn’t you have known that if you grew up here?”
It’s the first reference he’s made to our earlier conversation about my true identity. I don’t know how to respond, except to say, “I didn’t really care about that sort of thing as a kid.”
Neither of us says another word as we make our way through the woods. His hand is still entwined in mine, and I try not to notice how wonderful it feels to have his skin against mine again. He might be willing to help me escape, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I lied to him. We had a few blissful nights together, but that was it. And we can never go back to the way things were.
Finally, we get to the place where the wall has crumbled a little. He helps me over the old stones, and if his hands linger on my waist a little longer than they have to—well, I’m probably just imagining it.
Sure enough, there’s a car waiting for us on the other side of the wall. It’s an older model with grayish-blue paint. Not exactly the set of wheels I expected Ward to have. But there are a lot of things I won’t know about Ward now.
I try to ignore the sadness in my chest as I hold out my hand for his keys. I can hardly bring myself to look at him, knowing it will end like this between us.
“No way,” he says. “I’m driving.”
I glance up at him. “You’re—”
“Driving. Go on, get in. We probably don’t have much time.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not dragging you into this. If you help me, they’ll think you were partially responsible.”
“It’s too late now,” he says. “I’m already in this.”
“It’s not too late. You can go back right now and no one will ever know.”
He doesn’t answer, but it’s clear he’s dead serious about this. He slides into the driver’s seat, pops the keys in the ignition, and starts the car.
“You in?” he calls out to me. “I’m leaving whether you’re with me or not.”
I climb into the car, but only because I know there’s no way he’s going to listen to me while I’m still standing awkwardly outside. “Look, I—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. It’s a deep one, wild and passionate and full of so many emotions it makes something shudder in my chest.
I pull back. “You can’t just—”
He kisses me again, harder this time. I try to protest, to insist that he’s being a complete idiot, but he won’t let me get a word in. He kisses and kisses me, stealing the words from my lips one by one. By the time he finally pulls away, I’ve forgotten all of my arguments.
His thumb drifts along the line of my jaw.
“I’m not going to let you go off on your own,” he says, and it’s clear from his tone that nothing I might say could change his mind. “This place was bad for both of us.”
He leans away from me, determination written all over his expression, and cranks the car into gear. I stare at him as he backs up the car. He’s really going to do this. Really going to leave with me. Even after all the crap I’ve pulled.
I wasn’t sure he’d forgive me for lying to him. And maybe he hasn’t yet. But if he’s here, it means he’s willing to try. He’s willing to give me the benefit of the doubt and trust that I can be a better person. That I’m more than the lie.
I’m not sure whether I deserve it or not. I’m not sure whether or not I deserve him, especially when he glances over at me and gives me one of those brilliant grins of his. Butterflies dance in my stomach. Maybe I don’t deserve him now, but I will. I’ll sort myself out. For him.
I don’t know what to say, but I don’t need to. His hand reaches down and finds mine as he steps on the gas.
I’m ready, his fingers say to mine. Let’s run.
And we do.