Tone Deaf

Something nudges my shoulder. I yelp and whirl around, my heart pounding overtime, my fist clenching into a tight ball. Just as I’m about to start sprinting toward the RVs, my vision clears, and I see Jace.

He looks exhausted, like he got as much sleep as I did. But he’s standing beside me, a hesitant smile on his lips, and holding out a hand. For a moment, I think he wants me to take it, but then I realize he’s offering to carry the duffle bag. I shake my head and grip it tighter. I don’t need to be any more in his debt.

He rolls his eyes and tugs it out of my grip before tossing it onto his shoulder. Then he points to the RVs in the distance and signs, “Come on. We’re leaving earlier than I thought. We need to get back.”

I shuffle my feet a little and narrow my eyes. He didn’t have to just grab the duffle like that. “How am I going to get in your RV without anyone seeing?”

“Easy,” he replies. “My RV is on the edge of the group. The entrance is facing the back. No one will see you.”

“And the driver?” I ask.

“Arrow and I trade off, ” he signs. “We’re the only ones who drive. I don’t like other people in my home. So only Arrow will see you.”

My eyes grow wide, and I swallow hard, trying to gulp back my panic. He told Arrow about me?

Jace smiles apologetically. “All of the band knows about you. We don’t keep secrets. But it’s just the four of us who know. No one else will ever find out.”

I nod, but my stomach feels all tight again. I take a step away from Jace, hoping I don’t puke on his shoes.

He gestures to the RVs again. “Let’s go.”

I trail after him, trying not to scowl at the pavement beneath my feet. I’ve learned to hate walking on the stuff. It soaks up vibrations and leaves me clueless to approaching footsteps, which is exactly what I don’t want right now. Most of Tone Deaf’s crew is a safe distance away, hopping in and out of trailers and giving thumbs-ups as they do last-minute checks on vehicles. But these people are still strangers, and still a potential threat to my escape attempt, and my heart pounds frantically.

Surprisingly, getting into the RV is just as easy as Jace said it’d be. Jace holds open the door for me and I slip right in, no one the wiser. The RV is dark, with all the shades pulled down, and my stomach twists wildly as I step inside. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe I’m just getting myself into even more trouble. Maybe—

A movement in the corner of my eye cuts into my panicked thoughts. I whirl toward the couch, where I spot the moving object. A dog. A huge mutt that looks like a cross between a pit bull and the grim reaper. I stumble back.

Jace lets the door close, cutting off the light for a long moment. Then he flicks a switch, and the overhead lights illuminate the RV. I blink against the sudden brightness and take another step away from the dog.

The massive pit bull yawns, displaying two rows of glistening white teeth. Then it lazily stretches and jumps down from the couch, landing with a thump that shakes the floor. It trots over to Jace.

“This is Cuddles,” he says, nodding toward the dog.

I take a few more steps back and frown at his words, sure that I’d read his lips wrong. “What?”

He quickly finger spells the name for me. C-u-d-d-l-e-s. Then he sighs at my confused expression and says, “Killer named her. He likes to think he’s funny.”

Jace reaches down and scratches the dog’s head. As tall as he is, he doesn’t even have to bend over to reach her, and Cuddles wags her stump of a tail and opens her mouth. I cringe, but all she does is gently lick his hand.

Jace gives her one more pat and then glances over to me. I try to smile and pretend I’m not scared, but my lips are frozen, and my face feels cold and clammy, despite the heat outside.

“You don’t like dogs?” Jace signs.

“Not big ones.”

“I’ll go put her away for a while,” he says, grabbing her collar. “You guys can get acquainted later, I guess.”

Jace walks away with Cuddles, the giant mutt trailing along obediently after him. Her pawsteps send vibrations through the thin flooring of the RV, and I shudder, backing away.

Jace heads down the RV’s small hallway, into a room that I assume is his bedroom. I stand there anxiously tapping my foot and taking in my surroundings. I’ve never been in an RV before—we always traveled by plane when I was younger—but I imagine this RV is about as luxurious as they come. It’s way larger on the inside than I expected—from here, I can see a bathroom, a small living area with an office space tacked next to it, and an entrance to the kitchen. A short hall leads toward the back of the RV, where Jace has just disappeared to.

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