Page 1 of Contested Crown

ChapterOne

“That’ll be thirty-seven ten,” the kid working the counter said. He looked up from the cash register screen, glanced at me, then back down at the bottle of cheap vodka, bandages, four cups of instant ramen, and the packets of Gatorade mix.

I could see his mind putting the pieces together in a way that was going to be very bad for me, possibly bad for him, and definitely bad for Cade.

Then the kid’s phone pinged, the screen lighting up, and his eyes immediately jumped to it, losing all interest in me and what was obviously the accoutrements of someone on the run. He picked up his phone, thumbs moving rapidly as I dug the cash out of my pocket. The kid didn’t even bother to ask for ID for the alcohol.

When I cleared my throat, he glanced down at the money, sighed, opened the cash register, and made change. I grabbed one of the paper bags off the side of the counter and began putting everything in, even as the kid counted out two dollars and ninety cents precisely.

Money back in my pocket, supplies resting against my chest, I pulled my hood up and stepped out into the night.

Cars sped by, each one illuminating me briefly with bright headlights. I cut across someone’s yard, hopped the fence to an alley, and walked a dozen yards before hopping another fence and cutting back. Then, I hid behind the rosebush outside a yellow house I had chosen earlier. It grew over the fence, as tall as me, thorny with full blossoms.

Without a watch or a phone, the only way to pass the time was the music I could hear faintly from inside the yellow house. Whoever lived there liked show tunes, the songs moving from a cat con artist to a pretty catchy song about eating people in sausages.

I found my mind wandering to Cade. I didn’t like leaving him for this long because part of me wondered what he’d do with all that silence on his own. No. I couldn’t think like that. He had to be fine because otherwise what was the point of all of this?

By the time whoever was inside started listening to a guy kidnapping a ballerina, I knew enough time had passed.

I circled back to the alley I’d initially gone through, passing through it for another dozen feet before jumping over a fence and going in the opposite direction, creating a wide spiral route to my destination. When I was finally sure that no one was following me, I headed to the motel.

We’d chosen a room facing the back, away from the road, the only view a cracked parking lot and an empty field filled with weeds, a couch, and a few bags of trash that hadn’t made their way to the dump. Even though I hadn’t heard anyone behind me, and unless we were inBack to the Future, no cars could have followed me over the fences, I waited, leaning against the cultural center next to the motel. I wasn’t taking any chances, and waiting a few minutes here would make anyone following me have to circle around, revealing themselves.

The cultural center looked worse than the motel we were staying in—the paint flaking, the poster displays up front scratched with graffiti and yellowing from age. They advertised a summer theater camp from two years ago and a course on cooking from around the world. Inside the cultural center, a wedding reception was in full swing. Loud music rattled the windows, and flashing lights reflected out of the windows above my head.

When I’d left, the bridal party had been taking pictures out in front of the building. I wasn’t sure if it was retro chic or if the photographer was planning on photoshopping out the cracked sign for Dos Lunas Cultural Center. Either way, I couldn’t afford for someone to snap any photos of me, not when someone might ask, “Hey, isn’t that Miles—the guy Declan Monroe and all of House Bartlett want dead?”

A car drove past slowly, and my heart sped, my grip tightening on the bag I held, but two men leaned out the passenger window, shouting, “Mark! Mark!”

Someone in a tux, complete with a teal vest marking him as the groom, trotted out the front door, laughing and accepting a plastic baggie from them. They high-fived, and he braced his arms against the roof of the car, chatting until a truck behind them began leaning on its horn.

The groom returned to his duties, and the car moved off.

Its headlights hit a dark SUV across the street. I narrowed my eyes. The SUV had been there all day, and I’d assumed it belonged to one of the wedding party. But the headlights had briefly lit a pair of hands on the steering wheel.

I straightened, looking both ways before I started across the street. It was probably nothing. I was going to blow our cover for some groomsman who wanted a break from handsy bridesmaids.

A voice pulled me up short.

“Hey!”

Turning, I saw three men in tuxedos standing at the doors to the cultural center. They crossed their arms, a fourth coming up behind them, his head nearly brushing the top of the doorframe.

“Yeah, you.” The one in front cracked his jaw. “We’ve seen you hanging out here. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing. I don’t want any problems,” I said, ducking my head so my hoodie covered my face.

“He doesn’t want any problems,” the one in front said, mocking.

“Then get out of here,” the one in back said, his voice a growl. “Lone wolf reject.”

Shaking my head, I managed a smile. “I’m going.”

I turned, but I didn’t want to lead them back to the motel, so I hesitated a split second. Something crashed in front of me, a beer bottle that shattered into a thousand glimmering pieces. The streetlights turned the pavement into a sea of shining, dangerous splinters of glass.

I knew what I needed to do. I needed to walk away. I needed to circle around, maybe go a few blocks out of my way, then cut across the field back to Cade.

Instead, I turned, the growl rising inside of me. The hood fell back, and I knew they could see my teeth.