All In (3 page)

“We need to rest, but paying for
a room at this time of night is pointless…”

“We’ll only have to check out in a few hours,” she
said, her tone raspy with fatigue. Mick was thankful that she was on the same
page with him.

“Exactly, let’s just hang here and take a power
nap.”

“It’s so dark.” Cara laughed. “I am tired, though.”

“If we put the light on, it could draw attention,”
he said, explaining. “Let’s just try and sleep.”

He slid his hand down her arm, taking her hand in
his. He guided them further into the closet, grunting when he felt the sharp
edge of something jab him in the side. Clawing his way into a corner, Mick dropped
his pack, pivoted Cara by the hips, and guided her to the floor. They jostled
the cart again, hearing the supplies rattle.

“You okay?” Mick asked, holding his breath.

“I’m
good. I hope I’m not resting my head against something gross, but I’m too tired
to care,” Cara laughed.

Mick reached into the darkness. Cloth fibers grazed
his hands.

“I think it’s a mop,” his tone questioning.

“I don’t care,” Cara said. Her words slowed,
settling like snow.

Mick sat down next to her, listening to Cara’s
breaths as they deepened and sleep consumed her. He couldn’t relax. That
anonymous shadow continued to tease him. Mick knew it was his fear that tormented
him. His mind raced in circles as he struggled to line up their next move in
this dangerous game.
I will win!
His
voice boomed inside his head.

The heat blew down on them from a vent above. He
could smell her. Mick leaned into Cara’s space, careful not to hit her head that’d
fallen on his shoulder.

A sweet scent—tropical, like coconuts—filled his
nose. Mick rested his head back, leaning into something soft but not so
pleasant-smelling, and shut his eyes, searching for any amount of sleep he could
catch.

****

An amplified announcement had them both jolting
awake. Mick’s eyes fluttered open, his bones stiff. He listened as a feminine
voice came over the PA system, advising passengers who held tickets for the 6
a.m. departure to Hackensack, New Jersey, to prepare to board. Cara’s breathy
voice moved through the thick, warm air.

“What time is it?” she asked. Her body stretched
out, brushing against his.

“Not sure, but I think it’s time to get outta here,”
he told her.

They rose to their feet, stumbling in the small
space.

“Ouch!” Cara yelled.
“Oh my God!
What was that?”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Mick reached for her,
fumbling through the darkness.

“Oh,” she cried. “It stings. Where’s the light? I
need light,” Cara called out to him, frantic.

Mick stumbled through the darkness. Supplies
clattered as he pushed his way toward the door. His hands scoured the wall for
a switch. He quickly flipped on the light.

Brightness seared his eyes. Mick blinked, forcing to
see through the floating white dots that hung in the air.

“Oh no,” Cara wailed. “What the hell!”

Mick’s jaw fell.

Cara’s forearm was sliced open. Blood poured down
her flesh like a red road.

“Jesus Christ,” Mick gasped. His head spun. Every
nerve in his body was now awake and stretched to its limit. His own blood
rushed to his temples, pounding. “What the fuck!”

His eyes darted around the closet, landing on a
utility knife that’d been jammed between two bottles of cleaning agents, its
blade out of its casing.

Chapter
Five

The blood rained down her forearm, hot and stinging.
Cara stiffened with panic, unprepared to deal as she fought to emerge from
what’d been a deep sleep.

Mick ransacked the supply cart. He grabbed a roll of
toilet paper and quickly began unwinding the sheets. He pressed the tissue
against her skin. Pain tingled down to her fingers. His rushing breaths hit her
face. She raised her eyes to his.

“Is it deep?” Cara swallowed hard. She really didn’t
have a strong stomach. She couldn’t even watch
True Blood
DVDs without having to peek through her fingers.

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to look. I just want to
stop the bleeding,” Mick said, his words running together. His palm pressed
over the wound. They both sagged into the wall. Silence grew between them,
filling the air with questions.

Cara felt like an idiot. Here Mick decided to take
her with him and now, within hours of embarking on their journey, she’d already
become a liability. Mick’s angry words bit through the air.

“What fucking asshole would leave a utility knife
open like that?” He pounded his fist into the wall. Cara met his
eyes,
glad she didn’t have to vocalize what they both knew
was inevitable.

“We have to get this looked at.” His voice was now
hoarse. His hazel eyes locked with hers, the green more dominant at this
particular moment. His brow
creased,
his face slack
with worry. “Come on. Let me help you with your coat.”

“Where?”
Cara’s stomach lurched.
How the hell will
we pay for this?
She knew how much money Mick had. Cara only had $115 with
her. Leaving behind her last paycheck seemed foolish, but she certainly
couldn’t have asked for it. What she had wouldn’t even cover the doctor’s bill.

The touch of Mick’s fingers on her chin felt alien. The
calloused tip grazed over her skin as he directed her eyes to his face.

“This has to be dealt with. It could get infected,
then where will we be? Don’t put a price on your safety … not ever.” His tone
escalated, ringing out around them. His piercing eyes singed through her. “Now
let’s go deal with this.”

They emerged from the closet, the terminal now
bustling with people engaged in their morning commute. A woman in heels and a
fur coat passed them briskly. Her brow lifted in question. Cara looked away and
trailed behind Mick as he led them through clusters of people.

The line at the service desk snaked around the
corner. Mick directed them toward the front entrance. He sat her down on a
bench inside and told her to stay put.

Cara pressed on the wound that was now concealed by
her jacket in hopes that the blood wouldn’t seep through. The pain had dulled
into a slow and steady throb. She shifted in her seat.

Mick was outside talking to a man in a gray
overcoat. He was searching on his smart phone, his briefcase on the sidewalk
between them. They conversed briefly before Mick extended his hand in
gratitude. As Cara watched him make his way back inside, she stood, grabbing
her pack.

“I got him to call us a cab. There’s an urgent care
center about five miles from here,” he said, his face smoothing.
“How you holding up?”
He straightened the collar of her
coat, his eyes roving around her.

“It’s okay, not as intense,” Cara told him.

“Okay, well … hang in there,” he said softly,
nodding.

****

“The total for today will be four hundred twenty-two
dollars,” the receptionist informed him with a smile. Mick unrolled the bills
in his lap. With each one he peeled off, his relentless, black-shrouded friend
mocked him.

At
least Cara is okay. I will not sacrifice her safety.

“Here is your receipt.” She slid it across the
counter. “Um…” her brow wrinkled. “I’m assuming that you do not have coverage?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” Mick said, his admission
hesitant.

“Come with me, please.”

She circled around the counter and directed him down
the hall, the floors gleaming with sterility. Removing a set of keys from the
pocket of her floral smock, she opened a supply closet door. After flicking on
the light, she waved Mick inside, closing the door behind them.

“That wound needs to be kept clean,” she told him as
she grabbed packages of first aid supplies off the shelves. After gathering
what looked to be sample sizes of Neosporin and gauze bandages and tape, she
stuffed them into a blue plastic bag. “Those stitches will dissolve on their
own in a week or so. Your girlfriend should keep the wound dry and away from
shower or bath water for the next forty-eight hours.”

She handed Mick the plastic bag, her smile warm. Mick’s
chest sank, weighted with gratitude.
I
guess there are some decent people in this world.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mick said, rubbing the back of
his neck, the tension tight there.

“You’re welcome.”

****

Cara was waiting for him when they emerged from the
supply closet. Mick helped her with her coat and then fed his arm through the
handles of their packs and escorted Cara outside.

The world rushed around them. They needed to rest
and regroup. The receptionist had probably just saved him about forty dollars
in first aid supplies.

In the distance, on the other side of the interstate,
was a small motor inn. Mick took in the scene, calculating how they could get
there. The last thing he needed was to be busted by the state police for
walking on the interstate.

A large cemetery filled the mountainside to the
east. It looked as if there’d be a way to cut through the cemetery, enabling
them to avoid the overpass and enter the motor inn from the rear, avoiding all
the entrance and exit ramps.

Cara’s tired voice moved through his concentrated
thoughts. “What’re you thinking?” she asked.

“We need to rest and refuel. Can you walk for a bit,
say two miles or so?” He rested his hand on her shoulder, straightening her
coat on her petite frame for the fiftieth time, feeling the need to fuss over
her.

“Sure, lead the way.” she smiled.

“Great, come on.” Mick took her hand, wanting to
touch a part of her. It was a good excuse, in light of the incident in the
closet and the recent trauma of her stitches. Her fingers threaded through his.
His heart tripped as his insides perked
up,
craving
any type of contact he could get for the time being.

Chapter
Six

“Where’re you going?” Cara asked, rolling over. The
bed sank as Mick sat down next to her, zipping up his coat.

“I’m
gonna
go grab us
something to eat. What’re you hungry for?” Mick put his wool hat on his head,
pushing it back over his brows.

Cara didn’t want him spending any more money. The
guilt over their unexpected medical bill was still sitting heavily on her
shoulders. She met Mick’s eyes. His face was still, exhibiting an intense
expression Cara didn’t think she should challenge.

“What about you?” She sat up, reclining against the
pillows, wincing. She couldn’t use her arm freely. Stiffness vibrated through
the achy tendons. The doctor said in a few days she wouldn’t feel any
restrictions.

“There’s a diner close by … how about a burger?”

“God, that sounds good,” she smiled.

“Then a burger it is.” Mick stood, peering down at
her. “Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’ll call out to you when I get back. And
lock up behind me,” he said, his tone brusque.

“Will do.”

Cara crawled off the bed and engaged all three locks
as soon as Mick stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The room was small, but clean. Gray tweed carpeting
and dull white walls enclosed her. Two queen-size beds covered with pea-green
spreads filled the space in front of a long dresser, an outdated TV on top.

A large vanity and sink was out in the open, a large
mirror above.

Cara poked her head into the bathroom, flipping on
the light. An overhead fan kicked on, sounding like an ailing jet engine. The
shower stall was small. She really wanted a hot shower, but Mick told her she’d
have to wait, needing to keep her sutures dry.

Cara paced the room, her stomach calling out into an
eerie quiet. She was hungry, only having had a cruller and a few crackers since
leaving Pittsburgh.

She sat down at the small table, fingering her
after-care instructions, feeling restless. Mick had hushed her as soon as she
brought up the cost of their visit to urgent care. It was obvious that he took
her well-being very seriously and was not interested in discussing the money
it’d cost him to get her stitched up.

Cara didn’t want to burden him, as if he had a child
in tow, yet his consideration was touching. Mick was often hard to read. Now
that it was them together and no one else, Cara found herself preoccupied with
learning the deeper facets of Mick’s personality that Cara knew she hadn’t been
exposed to, even after all these years.

Though they’d been friends since childhood, there
were things she didn’t know. Did he date? She’d never seen him with a girl, but
that didn’t mean that he … she felt the heat push through her skin. The fact
that he genuinely cared for her was more than she’d ever had from anyone.