Chapter 28.
831 Words
"Maxine's gone," Harper whispered. "But I'm not ready to go back yet, Kane."
She looked toward the bar at the far end of the loft- a sleek, dark slab of marble where a bartender was expertly stirring a drink. She didn't want sparkling water. She didn't want "safe." She wanted to feel the way she had when her fist connected with that girl's nose- electric, blurred, and untouchable.
"I have my own money," she muttered, sliding out of the booth.
Kane caught her wrist, his grip firm but not tight. "Harper, you've had a long day. The degradation-"
"Don't say the word, Kane. Not here," she hissed, pulling her arm back. "Just give me ten minutes."
She walked to the bar, her heels clicking with a newfound, slightly reckless confidence. She pulled a crumpled twenty and a ten from her clutch- the remains of her "emergency" stash. She ordered two stiff drinks, something amber and smelling of smoke. She downed the first one in three long, burning gulps, the liquid fire sliding down her throat and hitting her empty stomach with a delightful, dizzying thud. By the time she finished the second, the edges of the room had begun to soften. The one-way glass overlooking the dance floor looked like a cinema screen, and Kane, standing by the booth, looked like a movie star she was lucky enough to know.
She floated back to him, her steps slightly rhythmic, the black silk of her dress swishing against her knees. She felt light. She felt like she was made of helium.
"You're tipsy," Kane noted, though he caught her by the waist as she stumbled slightly into the table.
"I'm inspired," Harper corrected, her voice looping with a bit of a slur. She looked up at him, her eyes bright and dilated. "Kane. Look at this place. Look at you. You have biometric scanners and manifests. Why are we sitting in a brick box in a city where everyone knows my medical history?"
Kane frowned, his hand lingering on her hip to keep her upright. "Because this is where the business is, Brooks. What are you talking about?"
Harper grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him down to her level. The scent of woodsmoke and expensive tobacco from the bar clung to her. "Vegas," she whispered.
Kane let out a short, dry laugh. "What?"
"Vegas. Item number seven: 'See the lights of the Strip from a car going a hundred miles an hour.' It's right there, Kane. In the notebook. We have the car. We have the driver. Why are we waiting?"
"Because it's a twenty-hour drive, you're currently three sheets to the wind, and your mother is currently waiting for you to walk through the front door," Kane said, his voice grounded and rational, though his eyes lingered on the way the club's blue light caught the silver in her dress. "It's ridiculous, Harper."
"Everything about me is ridiculous!" she laughed, the sound bright and jagged. "I'm a girl who just won a bar fight. I'm wearing a dress that's stained with cranberry juice. I have letters hidden under my carpet because I'm too chicken to say goodbye to anyone's face."
She pulled her phone out, her fingers fumbling over the screen.
"What are you doing?" Kane asked, reaching for the device.
"Texting Mom," she chirped.
To: Mom
Hey Mom. Staying with Max for a few days. We decided to take a little road trip for the list. Don't worry, I have my meds and Kane is driving. I need to do this. I love you. See u soon.
She hit send before Kane could stop her. She tossed the phone onto the leather seat like it was a live grenade.
"There," she said, leaning back against him, her head spinning in a way that felt like flying. "Now I'm a runaway. You've always wanted to kidnap a girl in a muscle car, haven't you? It fits your 'brand.'"
Kane stared at the phone, then at Harper. He looked around the room- at Elias, at the soldiers by the door, at the world he had built for himself. Then he looked at the girl in his arms. She was pale, she was bruising, and she was currently the most vibrant thing he had ever seen.
"You realize," Kane said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous rumble that made her heart skip, "that if we do this, there's no turning back. I'm not stopping for sightseeing. I'm not stopping for naps. If I put that GTO on the interstate, we don't stop until we see the desert."
Harper grinned, her red lips stretching over her teeth in a look that was pure, unadulterated defiance. "I don't want to stop, Kane. I've spent my whole life stopping. I want to go until the road runs out."
- Writer
