Chapter 33
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Ryder’s car was surprisingly cheap and stuffy, so far unlike what Jane had pictured belonging to the stylish star of Alexander High. An old blue minivan sat at the curb, parked illegally beneath a street light. It was lucky that it was too early for police to be enforcing parking laws.

With a jingle of keys, Ryder slid the passenger door to the side, revealing a cramped interior. The seats had been removed, leaving an open space that Ryder had filled with several suitcases. Possessions, retrieved from his father’s house.

“Mi casa, su casa,” Ryder joked wryly. With a grunt, he crawled inside, ducking his head. Jane had no need to do the same, as she was more than short enough to fit inside without stooping too much.

She decided immediately that she liked it. It was comforting, despite the lack of space. And it smelled like Ryder. That was a bonus.

Jane groaned, and immediately collapsed against the carpeted floor of the van. Pain shot through her limbs as her muscles truly relaxed for the first time that night.

“Right, I’ll get us somewhere out of town, then. You should rest,” Ryder said.

Jane was too tired to reply. Ryder’s jacket was beneath her head, cushioning it, the red fabric blending with the orange of her hair. She heard the door slide shut as Ryder walked around the length of his minivan, reentering through the driver’s side.

From her vantage point on the floor, the orange light of the street lamp almost appeared to be a halo as it was diffused through the window. She raised one freshly-unbloodied hand, watching the light seep between the gaps of her fingers.

“Go to sleep, Jane,” Ryder said, glancing at her through the rear view mirror. Her strange behavior was making him worry.

With another jingle of keys, the van came to life.

The engine, so unlike Watson’s powerhouse of a vehicle, was quiet, almost hypnotic in the gentle way its cylinders growled and hissed. Ryder’s driving was much the same, gentle and understated, and, with no traffic on the roads, the brakes were barely needed. Slowly, Jane felt the warm grip of sleep pulling her beneath.

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“No!”

The gunshot repeated, over and over, an ear-shattering beat to the most twisted song she had ever heard. The kitchen burned all around her, flame licking at her limbs, chewing through her flesh like a sentient being. Jane looked into the emerald eyes of Jackson, as cold and emotionless as the precious gem itself.

He laughed, though it was not his voice. Victoria’s carefree uproar tumbled from his mouth, lilting and cheerful. The gunshots were speeding up, growing louder. Jane could not tell where it was coming from.

The fire was all around her now, orange fingers clawing at her from every direction. Jackson stood from his seat. She realized he was the source of the gunshots, though no pistol was in his hand.

“You were the perfect scalpel,” he said.

The world flashed as the blaze exploded through the air, consuming all. Jane found herself on the floor, blood seeping from the wound in her neck. She could not move, but she knew Jackson was drawing closer, the endlessly repeating gunshots approaching.

Gunshot. He was coming.

Gunshot. Mere inches away.

She could not speak. Only a horrible, wet gurgle was produced when she tried. Another gunshot.

All at once, the fire was extinguished, and her kitchen was intact once more. The gunshots were silent. The blood was gone.

Jane was standing over her own body, hands pressed to her own neck, but there was no blood to stem. No life to preserve.

Instead, she found her own hands choking her, crushing the air from her windpipe.

She awoke, her heart rattling beneath her ribs like a trapped bird. Her sweat formed an uncomfortably damp ring beneath her head, soaking through Ryder’s jacket. It had not been a restful sleep.

Early morning sunlight beamed through the tinted windows of the van. Jane groaned as she moved her stiff legs, which had been stuck in the same position as she slept. There was hardly space to move amongst Ryder’s luggage.

A quick glance out the window revealed a murky stream frothing amongst overgrown trees and a dirt road. They definitely weren’t in the town square anymore.

Ryder himself was absent from the van, though he had left the engine running. Carefully, Jane opened the sliding door, and stepped outside.

A splash from the stream caught her attention, and she approached the source of the sound.

Ryder was standing, waist deep in the water, chest bare. He glanced up as she approached.

“Hey,” he said, an attempt at a smile on his lips.

“Hey.” Jane found that she didn’t have it in her to return the smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head blearily. Her heart was still pounding from the nightmare.

“Well, come here, I know what’ll wake you up.” Ryder’s eyes were narrowed like that of a mischievous cat. He was planning something.

Gingerly, she approached the edge of the stream, wary. “What?”

“Take your pants off,” he said, absolutely deadpan.

Jane’s face colored, nearly the same shade as her hair. If she could reach that far, she would’ve slapped him.

“Ryder!” she shouted, outraged.

“It’s not like that! Come on, the water’s not too cold. Get in.”

Jane eyed the cloudy water with suspicion, every headline she’d read about water-borne illness coming to the front of her mind.

The gunshot echoed once more through her mind, as if reminding her of everything that had happened mere hours ago. As if punishing her for daring to think about something else for even a second. It would not allow her to forget, it promised. Never ever.

“Screw it,” Jane muttered. Hastily, she pulled her jeans off, and waded into the water.

It was like a shock to her system. The water sapped her body heat from the moment her feet touched the surface, sending a shiver up her spine.

To Ryder’s credit, he had looked away as she stripped, his muscular torso turned sideways towards her. Partially submerged in the water, sunlight gleaming off his damp skin, Jane felt as if she were looking at an otherworldly being, a creature from folklore and religious texts.

And then he flung an arm out, splashing cold water against her chest. Jane yelped, surprised.

“Ryder!” she shouted again, even more enraged.

He did not reply, same mischievous tilt in his eyes. He splashed her again.

Jane hissed with annoyance. Two could play that game.

The morning air was filled with the sounds of water being thrown about, forming ghostly rainbows where the spray caught the light. Ryder was laughing as Jane caught him in the face with a well-aimed blast, his hair sticking to his scalp. Jane found herself laughing too, even as water soaked through her thin undergarments.

Ryder cheated, and lunged across the water with a powerful stride. Jane yelped again, though this time it was with joy. His hands caught her forearms before she could deliver one last splash.

“Truce. Truce!” Ryder laughed, before pulling her in closer. Their skin was chilled from the water, though the sun was doing an excellent job of returning heat to it.

“Where are we, anyway?” Jane asked, watching a stray droplet hang from Ryder’s jaw. A sudden impulse to kiss it away struck her, but she controlled herself.

“Honestly?” Ryder said, “no idea. I’ve never been out of Alexander. I just kept driving until there were no more buildings.”

Jane looked around at the forest surrounding them, the song of birds ringing between the trees. The stream babbled against their legs, forming a pleasant froth.

“Sure wish I had my phone right now,” she muttered. It had most likely burned up along with the rest of her things.

She bit her lip. “I lost the data we have on your dad’s men, too. It was in my room. You didn’t find anything when you were there, right?”

Ryder exhaled, his eyes distant. The droplet on his jaw fell at last, dripping onto his chest. “Nothing. We’re back to square one.”

Jane slipped her fingers between his. “You’re not really thinking of continuing, are you?”

“You aren’t?” he asked.

“Ryder!” Jane was shocked. She let go of his hand. “We’re homeless! How are we supposed to fight them? Are you nuts? We’ve got nothing!”

Ryder’s expression tightened. “Are you going to let just that stop you?”

Jane scowled. “Just that? They killed my mom.”

It was a low blow, and she knew it. Guilt sank into her chest as quickly as Ryder’s gaze fell.

It wasn’t Ryder’s fault. She knew that. There was no reason to be burdening him with that.

“…sorry,” she said. The apology was sincere.

“No it’s- it’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking.” Ryder waded past her, his movement disturbing the flow of the stream.

She turned as he trudged past her, watching him go. The guilt in her chest reminded her that she wasn’t the only one without a home now. Her and Ryder had more in common than ever.

“Come on,” he said, calling to her from the riverbank.

Her mouth opened, surprised. She’d thought he was leaving to sulk under a tree somewhere.

“I did find something in your room,” he said. “Nothing like the data, though.”

Curiously, she followed him back towards the van.

Ryder had draped their clothes over the roof of his vehicle, using the sun as some sort of dryer. Jane admired his behind as he dug around inside the van, bending through the passenger-side door.

Evidently, he had found whatever he was looking for. He turned, holding something carefully away from Jane’s view. A furrow formed between his brows as he caught Jane in the act of staring at his butt.

“Uh…” Was all he managed to say, one eye narrowed in confusion.

Jane’s face colored for the second time that morning. “What’s that behind your back?”

Though a poor attempt to change the subject, Ryder went with it. With all the panache of a stage magician, he whipped his arm around, presenting it to Jane.

It was her teddy bear, only slightly singed at one ear. The beady eyes bored emotionlessly into hers, as if reprimanding her for leaving it behind.

Wordlessly, she took the bear from Ryder, both hands cradling it. It was all she owned now. The only thing she had left from her life.

On impulse, she stood on her tiptoes, and clumsily kissed Ryder. He reached backwards, supporting himself against the van while he returned the gesture. Tentatively, her tongue slipped out, prodding his own. Her inexperience was belied only by her enthusiasm as she breathed him in, barely stopping to breathe.

The bear was soft against her chest. The birds were singing, accentuated by the murmuring chorus of the stream nearby. Her hair was damp, and wild, and Ryder felt as if he could stay in this moment forever.

“I love you,” she whispered into his lips.

It felt like he’d known what he would say forever. So sure was he of his own response that he did not even need to think about it. He’d never felt like he did with Jane. Not with anyone.

“I love you too,” Ryder said.

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