Page 80 of The Wicked

“I thought we lost them.”

“We stole their vehicle; it’s only a matter of time before they find us. We’re calling it a night.”

I shifted on my feet. “I’m all for… calling it a night, but there is literally nothing out here for miles, and I don’t reckon you have any money on you?”

“We don’t need money to start an open camp in the woods.”

I almost choked on my saliva. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not deaf,” he said, already walking towards the tall trees that cast shapeless shadows. A shiver of wariness ran down my spine.

When he noticed I wasn’t following, he stopped, turning to me. “Are you coming?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll wait for a car to fly by and hitch a ride.”

I could feel his eyes roam up and down my body as he walked back towards me, determination in his strides. “Stay here and die. Follow me and survive on a maybe. You should be smart enough to know the good choice there.”

“The woods aren’t exactly safe either.”

“They are, for the night. By morning, we’ll leave because they’ll likely double back when they don’t find us at the nearest motel. When they’re on their way back here, we’ll be on our way to the compound.”

“The car is practically parked outside the woods,” I pointed out.

“Your smartness seems to have faded with your adrenaline.” He sighed. “The key is in the ignition, the two front tires are blown, and the car is bent to a very odd angle. It’s obvious that it broke down, and the two people previously in it have hitched a ride or walked to the nearest motel because there isobviouslya tracker in the vehicle we should be running from.”

My brain caught up to what he was insinuating. “Nobody in our position would stay behind instead of running away, okay, smart… But what about the painting?”

“We’re leaving it underneath the seat.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not safe to take it along. And we’re not stupid enough to leave it behind either.”

“What if they check the car? Listen, I risked my damn neck for that painting, and I got a bullet graze that hurts like a bitch because of it. There’s no way I’m letting them find it after all the trouble.”

“Risks are better than consequences. On the off chance that we get found out by whoever these people are, they’d kill us and take the painting, but if they find us without the painting, two things. They can kidnap and torture until we deliver updates as to who has it and who doesn’t, or we make a bargain. And I have a gut feeling they won’t waste time searching the car when we are supposedly with the painting and would never be as foolish as to leave it behind.”

“But—”

“We are doing the exact opposite of what anyone should do in our situation. I will not ask you to trust me because it isn’t a foolproof plan, but I will ask you to follow my lead. I am never wrong.”

I gritted my teeth, looking around the lonely area before my attention settled on him again. “Fine. You might have a point.”

“I’m glad your brain still works. You had me worried there for a second.”

“You don’t have to be rude.”

“That was not me being rude, merely observant,” he said, turning again, and this time I followed him.

“And here I thought you were a man of action and fewer words.”

“I am.”

“Well, you talk an awful lot when I’m around.”

He let a few beats pass before he responded. “A significant mystery I plan to unearth.”

I snickered. “It’s okay; I have that effect on people. It’s like one of my charms.”