The Edge of Never, Wait For You, Rule: Scorching Summer Reads 3 Books in 1. J. Lynn

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СКАЧАТЬ off what’s left of the mirror when Andrew pulls the man off the counter by the front of his shirt. He pulls back his other hand and buries his fist in the man’s face. I hear a nauseating crunch! and blood pours from his nose. Andrew rains blows down on his head, one hit after another until the man can’t hold his head up straight and it starts to bob and sway drunkenly on his shoulders.

      Andrew lets go and the man’s body falls against the floor. I hear his head thump against the tile. Andrew just stands there hovering over him, maybe waiting to see if he’s going to get up, but there’s something disturbingly untamed in his posture and his enraged expression as he stares down at the unconscious man.

      I can hardly breathe but I manage to say, “Andrew? Are you alright?”

      He snaps out of it and jerks his head around to face me. “What?” He shakes his head and his eyes narrow under lines of disbelief. He marches over. “Am I alright? What kind of question is that?” He fastens his hands around my upper arms and stares deeply into my eyes. “Are you alright?”

      I try to look away because the intensity in his eyes is overpowering, but his head follows mine and he shakes me once to force me to look at him.

      “Yeah … I’m fine,” I finally say, “thanks to you.”

      Andrew pulls me into his rock-hard chest and wraps his arms around my back, practically squeezing the life out of me.

      “We should call the cops,” he says, pulling away.

      I nod and he takes me by the hand and pulls me with him out of the restroom and down the gloomy gray hallway.

      By the time the cops get here, the man has disappeared.

      Andrew and I agree that he probably slipped out right after we left. He must’ve gone out the back while Andrew was on the phone. Andrew and I give the cops a description of the man and our statements. The cops commend Andrew—sort of vacantly—for stepping in, but he really just seems to want to stop talking to them altogether.

      My new bus to Texas left ten minutes ago and so once again I’m stuck in Wyoming.

      “I thought you were going to Idaho?” Andrew says.

      I had let it slip that my ‘bus to Texas’ just left without me.

      I bite gently on the inside of my bottom lip and cross one leg over the other. We’re sitting near the front doors inside the bus station, watching passengers come and go from the tall windows.

      “Well, now I’m going to Texas,” is all I say, even though I know I’m ‘caught’ and have a feeling I’ll be spilling some of the truth very soon. “I thought you left in the cab?” I say, trying to divert the subject.

      “I did,” he says, “but don’t turn this around on me, Camryn. Why aren’t you going to Idaho anymore?”

      I sigh. I know he won’t stop asking until he gets it out of me so I throw in the towel.

      “I don’t really have a sister in Idaho,” I admit. “I’m just traveling. Nothing more to it, really.”

      I hear him let out an irritated sigh next to me.

      “There’s always something more to it—are you a runaway?”

      I look over at him finally. “No, I’m not a runaway, at least not in the underage illegal sense.”

      “Well then in what sense?”

      I shrug.

      “I just had to get away from home for a while.”

      “So, you ran away from home?”

      I let out a sharp breath and look right into his intense green eyes staring right through me. “I didn’t run away, I just had to get away.”

      “So you jumped on a bus alone?”

      “Yes.” I’m getting irritated at the drilling.

      “You’re gonna have to give me more than that,” he says, relentless.

      “Look, I’m more appreciative than you know for what you did. I really am. But I don’t think you saving me gives you the right to know my business.”

      A small wave of insult subtly stuns his features.

      I feel bad instantly, but it’s the truth: I’m not obligated to tell him anything.

      He gives up and looks out ahead, propping an ankle on the other knee.

      “I saw that piece of shit eyeing you since I got on the bus in Kansas,” he reveals and has all of my attention. “You didn’t see it, but I did so I started watching him.” He still hasn’t looked over at me again, but I’m staring right at him from the side as he explains. “I saw him get into a cab and leave here before I did and only then did I feel it was OK to leave you here by yourself. But on the way to the hospital, I just had this bad feeling. I told the cab driver to drop me off at a restaurant instead, and I ate. Still couldn’t get it out of my head though.”

      “Wait,” I say, interrupting him, “you didn’t go to the hospital?”

      He looks at me.

      “No, I knew if I went that …” he turns his eyes away again, “… I wouldn’t be enough in my right mind to pay attention to the bad feeling I was having if I was staring down at my dying father.”

      I understand and I don’t say anything else.

      “So, I went to my dad’s house and got his car, drove around for a while and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I came back here. I parked across the street and waited for a while and sure enough, a cab pulled in and dropped the guy back off.”

      “Why didn’t you come inside instead of waiting in the car?”

      He looks down in thought.

      “I just didn’t want to freak you out.”

      “How would that freak me out?” I realize I’m smiling a little.

      Andrew looks right at me and I see that playful, smartass look start to crawl back into his features again.

      He holds his hands open, palms up. “Ummm, strange guy you met on the bus coming back hours later to sit next to you?” His eyebrows crinkle in his forehead. “That’s almost as creepy as suck-my-dick-for-$500-guy, don’t you think?”

      I laugh. “No, I don’t think it’s anything like that.”

      He tries to bury his smile, but relents.

      “What are you going to do, Camryn?” His face is serious again and my smile fades.

      I shake my head. “I don’t know; I guess I’m going to wait here until the next bus to Texas comes and then I’m on my way to Texas.”

      “Why Texas?”

      “Why not?”

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