Jax's P.O.V.
The night air is quiet, but my mind isn't. Sam is curled up under the covers, breathing evenly as if she doesn’t have a single care in the world. Meanwhile, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling of this dingy motel room, knowing we’re hours away from chaos.
Running away was bold. Reckless, even. But necessary. Her mom didn’t leave us with much choice. They think they can separate us by force—like we’re kids who can’t decide what we want. I scoff at the thought. Sam and I, we’re in this together. No one gets to dictate our lives anymore.
I glance at my phone, now turned off and tucked away in my backpack. The tracker’s gone, the phones are dead, and for the first time in days, we have a moment of calm. But how long will it last? How long before her mom calls in reinforcements
