Run

Chapter Seventeen

The silence was getting to me.

Day after day of conversations we could, and should, have had. Days where I lay in a hospital bed, restless and anxious and waiting for the next bad thing to happen, followed by days in Trevor's apartment, restless and anxious and waiting some more.

Trevor didn't make it any easier on me. When he wasn't working, he was quiet, and the few times I attempted to talk about my imminent departure and return, he'd simply nod, tell me he understood, and retreat to his internal hidey-hole. For him, my leaving was the end point. I would not be returning.

As close as we'd become the past few months, there was a lot I didn't know about him. I was missing a big, big piece of information, bigger than just losing Molly, and I couldn't find the words to ask him about it.

Did he want to keep me? Could he just try?

I stared at my phone, willing my fingers to work. I'd been out of the hospital for four days, and while I wasn't strong enough to return to work, I no longer felt like dying would have been preferable. My long-overdue phone call to my parents couldn't be put off any longer.

I tapped into my contacts and pulled up my parents' number, holding my breath as the line rang through to the other end.

"Davis residence."

Memories of home hit me with the force of a tsunami. Skiing at nearby Mount Baker. Hanging out at the Bean Pot after school when I should have been doing my homework. Rainy Christmases and Easters and even Fourths of July. Ragged hills, steel-colored waves, seagulls screaming at one another as they wheeled and swooped overhead.

Home.

Bellingham. The little city on the bay. Home.

"Mom?"

"McKenna." The strained silence that followed refused to let me breathe. "It's been a while."

That sentence must have been difficult to get out, considering how strangled it sounded. "I know." But I couldn't apologize for it. My year on the run had done none of what I'd hoped and everything I expected it to. "I should have called earlier."

"Yes, you should have." I cringed. "Where are you?"

"Austin."

"Texas?" Her tone was doubtful. "How did you decide on Texas?"

"The car was pointed in that direction?"

"McKenna." Doubt was replaced with the tone perfected by mothers everywhere - don't you smart mouth me, young lady.

"Sorry," I muttered, wincing as my stitches pulled. The clock on Trevor's DVD player read five fifteen. I'd need to clean and re-dress soon. I hadn't let Trevor do it after the first time, adding another brick in the wall rising between us. "I'd never been to Austin. I thought if I was seeing places, I might as well see it. It's hot. Really, really hot."

The front door rattled and clicked, swinging open. Heat rushed in, followed by Trevor in all his sweaty, scruffy glory. I waited for his smile, chest tight in anticipation, and when it didn't come, the weight of the tension between us settled like a stone in my stomach.

"Kenny? Sweetie, are you there?"

I tore my gaze from Trevor's sober face. "Yeah, Mom, I'm still here." I motioned for Trevor to come over to the couch. He shook his head and pointed to the hallway, then disappeared into its shadows. "I got a job working in a diner." I ignored the painful lump in my throat as the bathroom pipes rattled to life a moment later. "One of the girls I work with, Celia? She's been showing me around a little. This place is insane with live shows." Trevor wouldn't be in the shower much longer. I hissed as I twisted around to glance at the hallway.