𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟐. 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐊𝐈𝐃

JOEL

DAY ONE

All I can focus on is her boots propped up on my dash.

Not just any pair of fucking boots, though. It's a brown pair of those expensive ones that Sarah used to beg me for because the other girls at school wore them. It wouldn't matter normally, but this was a world of survival now. A world full of gross, clicking fuckers waiting to rip your throat out. Yet, here she was—dressing like she'd been closed off in her protected, innocent bubble while the rest of us went day-by-day worrying about food, water, and weapons.

A girl like that didn't belong out here. She was fresh meat in the scary world outside of her bubble, and she didn't even realize it. No, she was too busy picking out which rich-kid outfit to wear next, doing her makeup, or probably painting her goddamn nails.

Fuck me.

My hands grip the steering wheel tighter as I glance over at her, snoring softly in the passenger seat with her head lulling near the window with every shake of the truck. Her arms are crossed over her chest loosely, and her lips jut out into a sleepy pout.

She's beautiful, and that only pisses me off more.

I'd been hesitant about taking this job, still am. She's Jared's sister, which was already a big deal in itself, considering he is the best soldier Montana's camp has. Had, maybe—if what Marlene said about his accident were true. His group was ambushed by another group, and he was in serious condition, but she wouldn't tell me anything more. Only that Addison wouldn't take no for an answer, and I was her ticket to Montana.

Addison Klein was a big deal to the community in Boston. The golden girl. Never to be touched or injured, and always to be protected. She was one of the nurses and a preschool teacher. The younger kids at camp loved her—I'd seen her around a few times, playing outside or reading books to them by the bonfires every Friday. They were taking a big risk by allowing her to leave like this, especially since she probably didn't know how to use a weapon to save her life. That's why Marlene needed me. I am a smuggler, after all. If there was anyone who knew how to safely get her across the country, it was me.

I needed this money. They were offering more money than I'd come across in a long time, and it was more than enough to get the supplies I needed to go off on my own.

Addison stirs in her sleep, and I swallow as I peek over at her again. Her blonde hair is ruffled from her slumber, and a tiny groan rumbles through her petite body as she pulls her feet from the dash. My shoulders tense in disappointment that she's waking up, but instead, she faces the window as she brings her knees to her chest. Still sound asleep.

It's not that she's awful. She's too smiley, too soft, maybe. Too enveloped in her la la land of make-believe. But I just want to be alone.

All I have to do is finish this job, and then I'll be just that.

Free and alone.