But I’ve never been much of a talker.
“Take care of yourself,” I said.
She nodded. And started to do those fast little blinks women do when they’re about to cry. “Yeah, you too.”
There was something I had to get out. “I meant what I said,” I muttered. “You’re fuckin’ priceless, girl. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
She bit her lip and nodded. Both of us turned to go—
Her body hit me with a wumf, right in the chest, and then she was hugging me even harder than Ox had.
I felt it all rise up inside me: the pain at seeing her go, the frustration at what I had to do, the anger at myself for the path I’d chosen. When I’d first met her, I’d been almost as innocent as she was. Why couldn’t I have stayed that way? I could have met her again now and we could have built something….
I screwed my eyes closed and let out a long breath, stroking the back of her head like it was her I was trying to calm. Then I leaned down and allowed myself just one kiss on the top of her head. I drank in the smell of her hair, the soft silk of those copper strands. I’d have to make that memory last the rest of my life.#p#分页标题#e#
She released me, moving slowly at first and then fast, turning quickly away to try to hide the fact she was crying. I watched her walk away towards the restrooms. I’d never felt like such a worthless son of a bitch in my entire life.
But if I wanted her to be happy, to have a life instead of some fucked up thing with me, this is what I had to do.
I turned around and walked away.
16
Annabelle
I couldn’t see where I was going: the sign for the restrooms was just a blur. But I didn’t want to wipe at my eyes or he’d see. So I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, letting the tears spill down my cheeks and drip to the floor. Thankfully, the bus station was nearly empty but I passed close enough to one woman to glimpse the sympathetic look she gave me. Then she looked over my shoulder at where Carrick must still have been, and glared reproachfully at him. Don’t hate him, I wanted to tell her. He’s the one who helped me. He hasn’t just dumped me.
It just felt that way.
I blundered through the door and into a deserted hallway. Three doors. I had to stop and wipe the tears away before I could see which was male, which was female and which was the rear exit. I made it through into the female bathroom, grabbed hold of the sink and then I finally let it all out. The animal fear at what had happened to me. The deep, wrenching shock at finding out that the world was an even shittier place than I’d thought, that the auctions and people like Volos really did exist. But most of all, the knowledge that I was on my own, now.
I’d felt like I was on my own ever since my mom died. But now—briefly—I’d felt what it was like to have someone, whether I was snuggled against his back on the bike or just sharing pastries with him in a motel room. Most of all, I’d gotten used to feeling someone’s hand in mine.
At last I sniffed, wiped my eyes and looked at my red, tear-stained face in the mirror. Idiot! Why had I pushed him? I had no clue about this stuff. This is what happens when you’re more comfortable around machines than people.
If I’d stayed in Haywood Falls, could I have helped him? Could we have built something? I fingered the shamrock necklace.
It didn’t matter now. I was never going to see him again.
I splashed some cold water on my face, dried off with a scratchy paper towel and took a deep, shaky breath. I needed to run if I was going to make the bus. Plus, hurrying would stop me thinking: if I kept thinking, I was going to start crying again.
I pulled open the door...and ran right into a wall of solid muscle. A white t-shirt. A leather cut. Carrick! He’d come back for me! A warm bomb went off in my chest.
Then my fingers touched something unfamiliar on the front of his cut. Metal. Eight legs.
I looked up.
“Hello, Annabelle,” said the blond-haired Blood Spider.
17
Carrick
People in Haywood Falls tend to steer clear of the Princes anyway. When it’s me, the Irish enforcer who hands out beatings? They cross the street. So when they saw me storm out of the bus station, my face like thunder, they got the fuck out of the way.
I’d never regretted something more. Not sending her away: that had been the right thing to do. It was the choices I’d made, years ago, that tore me up. Because if I’d made better ones, maybe it wouldn’t have to be this way.
Goddamn you, Briggs. I wished he was still alive so I could have the satisfaction of putting a bullet in his head.