Silver Bastard(124)

To his credit, Puck didn’t rub it in. He just reached over and caught my knee, giving it a squeeze.

“Were you surprised when she attacked Teeny?”

I shrugged, covering his hand with mine.

“I don’t know what to think—I still don’t know why she lied to me, or why she decided to stop him. I guess killing me crossed some sort of line in her head? I’ll probably never know.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. I leaned over to turn on some music. Talking made me think too much.

—

“Becca, you should come to bed.”

I stood next to the window, looking out across the darkened parking lot. If anything, the quality of our hotels had gone down a notch. Puck said the shittier the hotel, the less likely it was anyone would remember us. By that logic, we were now perfectly safe. I’d already seen two drug deals go down outside, and I’d be willing to bet that those two girls with lots of makeup and very high heels weren’t just having a party in their room.

“I keep thinking about Teeny,” I admitted. “Mom just kept hitting him, over and over. Blood sprayed everywhere. Like in a horror movie. Not only that, I killed a man today. It seems like I should feel something—guilt, or maybe excitement or triumph or something. I’m just tired, though.”

“Come to bed,” he repeated, pulling back the covers next to him. I walked over and climbed in, tucking myself into his side.

“Are you pissed at me?”

“For what?” he asked. “You’re gonna have to narrow it down before I can answer that.”

“For all of it. Answering her calls. Listening to Teeny . . . dragging us down here in the first place.” Puck’s fingers caught my hair, running through it lightly. Then he sighed.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But mostly I’m just happy you’re alive. When your mom called, it’s like everything around me just stopped. All I could think about was you lying dead somewhere out in the desert. It could’ve happened, too.”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” I said. “But I can’t seem to feel bad about Teeny or his brother. And I know this is fucked as hell, but I’m glad my mom saved me. Maybe in her own way she still loves me, even if she’s a nut job. Probably sounds crazy to you, but that makes me feel a lot better. Not that I ever want to see or talk to her again—no worries there.”

He kissed the top of my head, tucking me farther into his side.

“So what now?” I asked him.

“We should sleep,” he declared. “If we get up early and keep driving then we’ll hit Idaho tomorrow night.”

“No, I mean what about us?”

“What about us?” he asked, his tone touched with humor. “I just drove across the country to commit murder for you. Earlier today I helped burn a couple bodies to cover your tracks. That implies a certain level of commitment on my part, don’t you think?”

“Well, I guess when you put it that way . . .”

Puck kissed me. Hard. “Go to sleep. Long drive tomorrow.”

I snuggled down, feeling myself start to relax. Then I remembered something important.

“Puck!” I said, pushing myself up. He lunged for his gun, ready for action. I froze.

“What is it?” he whispered urgently. “Did you hear something?”

I shook my head, staring at the weapon. “You think you could put that down?”

He nodded, then lowered it slowly.

“What is it?” he asked again. I laughed nervously, feeling stupid.

“Um, well earlier today I thought I was going to die.”

“Been trying not to think of that.”

“So . . .” I said, then I shook my head. This wasn’t the right time. “Let’s just go back to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Becs, whatever the fuck’s got you worked up, spit it out.”

“I love you. When Teeny was about to shoot me? It’s all I could think about. I love you and I wish I’d spent less time fighting with you. We have a lot to work out between us and that kind of scares me, but whatever happens you should know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

God, this was awkward. Puck turned and set down his gun. Then he reached out and caught the back of my neck, pulling me in to rest his forehead against mine.

“I love you too,” he said. “Don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the line it did. They say love at first sight is bullshit, and they’re probably right. But whatever I felt for you that first night? It turned into something real. I’m never letting you go.”

“So what does that mean?” I asked. “I mean, I still feel the same way about controlling my own life.”