We've been running for three days.
Three days of looking over our shoulders, jumping at shadows, trusting no one. Three days of being hunted like animals instead of being the hunters.
And I hated it.
"Tony." Katherine's voice is quiet from the passenger seat. "We need to stop. I need to... I just need to stop."
I look at her and barely recognize the woman beside me. She cut her hair yesterday in a gas station bathroom. Chopped it short, dyed it blonde with box color that made the motel sink look like a crime scene.
She's still beautiful but different, like a stranger wearing Katherine's face.
"There's a motel two miles ahead," I say. "Cash only. No questions asked."
"Perfect." She sounds exhausted and defeated.
We've been staying in places like this, the kind where prostitutes rent by the hour, and drug dealers conduct business in the parking lot. The kind where nobody looks too closely at anybody because everyone has something to hide.
