Page 100 of Too Far

“Yes. He’ll be there.”

My heart pounds out an anxious rhythm in my chest. “Andthereis where, exactly?”

These are questions I should have asked earlier. Details I should have considered, even if the outcome would ultimately be the same.

“Decker’s cabin. It’s just beyond Beech Mountain.”

And there it is.

My stomach sinks. Because we’re heading off the grid, running from one storm, straight into the eye of another.

Two clashing, warring tempests, each raging for their own reasons. Neither can be dissuaded by the other, and in the wake of their battle, they’ll leave nothing but a path of destruction.

A reunion between Decker Crusade and me won’t go any other way. I fear I’m not strong enough to survive it.

“How far is the drive?” I whisper. It’s all I can manage.

Kylian’s still taking in my every move, like he’s cataloging them all so he can figure me out. “He knows to stay out of your way. You won’t have to see him at all if you don’t want. This was the best option for everyone, though, Jo. There’s enough room for all of us. The girls are used to the cabin—”

“It’s fine,” I insist. It has to be. “How long is the drive?” I repeat.

“Usually, it’s two hours and thirty-four minutes. But with the whole town evacuating, and given the evacuation reroutes, I expect it to take us three or three and a half hours.”

Three hours.

I developed a raw form of resilience when I had to return to high school after I was raped and filmed without my consent. It’s an armor of sorts, but it adapts on a dime, molding me into the version of myself most fitting for survival in each situation.

There’s no conscious effort involved. The resiliency clicks into place on instinct.

In years past, it often meant donning my bad-bitch, no-shits-given armor. Other times, it served me best to blend in and move through the shadows, remaining unseen.

It took years of therapy to recognize the coping strategy. Even if it’s not a healthy one, it’s undoubtedly useful, especially when confronted with my own personal version of hell. Like now. I’ve got three hours to get my shit together before I have to dwell in the presence of Decker Crusade.

Chapter 46

Kendrick

I’vemadethisdrivea few dozen times.

My surroundings are familiar as I merge onto the designated evacuation route.

Nicky’s riding shotgun, looking more lively than he has in a while.

Thank fuck.

I won’t go as far as to say his flare is over, but his pain has significantly decreased. The new drug regimen Dr. Kline’s got him on was a bitch to cross taper, but my boy stuck with it, and now he’s finally beginning to reap the benefits.

Turning my way, he raises his pierced eyebrow.

“You good?” I ask, just to make conversation.

He grins that signature Nicky grin. The one that can’t be met with anything but a smile. The one we’ve sorely missed for the last few weeks.

“Yeah, man. I’ve got a drawer full of spoons and an unexpected vacation with my friends and my girl.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “Never better.”

Gripping the wheel and focusing on the road, I dip my chin once and blow out a long breath. “This isn’t going to feel like a vacation for her.”

He scoffs and rubs his hands over his thighs. “Yes it will. I’ll make sure of it.”