He came to me, tucking his wallet in his back pocket. His hands went around the back of my neck, his thumbs under my chin. “Five o’clock, Jo. Not a minute later. All right?”
I nodded, unable to speak. He crushed his lips to mine in a hard, bruising kiss. I clutched at his arms to keep him there, but he tore away and was gone.
I stared at the empty room that seemed even emptier without him. The sheets were tangled on the bed where we’d made love. Evan had been there with me, and now…I shivered.
Waiting and doing nothing felt wrong and useless. I dressed, then packed up our belongings into his large duffel and my smaller one. As I stuffed the cash into my bag, I thought I could hear Lee’s voice:
He fucked you and left you some money…
I silenced the insidious thought and started pacing. I peeked out the window but the night was dark. Here, at the edge of the city, at this late hour, few cars passed by the motel. No flashing police lights that told me it was over. Just…nothing.
The minutes added up so slowly, I thought I’d be insane by five o’clock. It finally arrived and no Evan.
5:01
5:03
For the last three hours, time had crawled, and now I felt it racing out from under me.
5:05
This was too much like the night of our high school prom.
At six minutes after five I gathered up our bags, my hands shaking so bad I could hardly grip them. I put them down again. I couldn’t do it. Not yet, I thought. A few more minutes. I’ll give him a few more minutes.
At ten after, I battled through the paralyzing fear to keep my promise. I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. The water was bracing and I pulled in deep breaths as I stared at my reflection. You can do this, I told the girl in the mirror. You promised him.
A key rattled in the door. The door opened.
I froze.
“Jo…?”
My heart stopped, then took off at a gallop. I tore out of the bathroom, my eyes falling on the clock. Eleven minutes after five.
Evan was out of breath, his hair falling over his face. He brushed it back and relief softened his frantic expression. Then it hardened into something pained and scared and beautiful.
“You’re late,” I whispered.
He strode to me in four long steps and gripped my shoulders. “You should’ve left at five. I told you if I didn’t come back—”
“No!” I cried. “There is no you not coming back. You have to come back to me.” Tears flooded my eyes, choked my throat. “You always have to come back to me, Evan. Do you hear?”
He hauled me to him, crushing me against the solid strength of his body.
“Promise me,” I whispered against his shoulder. "Swear it. Swear you’ll always come back to me.”
“I swear,” he said, holding me tight, melting against me. “I swear, Jo. I will always come back to you.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, opening my mouth to his kiss, taking him in as deeply as I could. I had my own premonition then, one that felt as powerful and real as anything Evan might experience: I was meant to kiss him and only him for the rest of my life.
Evan pulled away, his breath coming hard. “We have to go, Jo. We have to go right now.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I’ll explain on the road.”
Our bags in hand, Evan cracked open the door to the motel. The sun was up now. He peered out, looking left and right. When he was satisfied the coast was clear, he beckoned for me to follow him. I felt like a burglar sneaking away with a bag of loot as we crossed the parking lot toward the main drag.
I gave a little cry as Evan yanked me behind the wall of the bail bonds/ fast cash place beside the motel. Over his shoulder I saw a squad car roll into the motel parking lot. My heart crashed against my ribs.
“Are they here for us?” I whispered.
He nodded and took my hand. “Come on.” He led me through parking lots and empty lots behind the little strip mall, until a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire forced us back to the main street.
“What happened to your truck?”
“I ditched it,” Evan said, glancing over his shoulder. “Literally. I drove it south about twelve miles and straight into a ditch. Then jogged back here. It won’t fool them for long but it might buy us some time.”
“I’m sorry. I know you loved your truck. I loved your truck.”
He glanced sideways at me, his smile warmer now. “Small price to pay.”
We boarded a bus and rode it out to the truck stop diner. Looking over our shoulders every minute, we bought a couple of tuna sandwiches and bottled water for the road. Then we hurried out to the truck bays where long-haulers were refueling or chatting amongst themselves. Evan took my hand and led us to the front of the lines, to the trucks that were going to pull out of town first.
“Which one?” I asked.
“Someone going north. To Kansas City.”
“Are we going to Kansas City?”