“I’m getting tired.” River yawns, stretching in the seat beside me. We’ve been driving all day, it’s all we’ve been doing is driving, sleeping, and then driving some more. We still have no destination at this point, the plan is just to get far enough away from our parents as we can get.

“Yeah, let’s pull over and get some sleep,” I agree.

I take the next exit and we both try and scope out a nearby hotel. There’s a couple closed fast food joints, and it looks like one hotel at the end of the street. It’s dodgy as shit in this area, and the hotel doesn’t look like anything I want to take River to.

“Maybe we should try the next exit…” I suggest.

“It said there wasn’t another rest stop for miles,” River mutters, looking at the same motel I am.

“It’s fine, we’ll just get a couple hours of sleep and get out of there.” She shakes her head, throwing her sketchpad into her duffel bag. She’s exhausted, we both are. Who knew just driving would take it out of you.

Turning the wheel, I do as she says and drive to the dilapidated hotel.

Upon getting closer, the sign doesn’t even have a name on it. It just has a ring of lights outlining a diamond-shaped sign. It reads Paradise Motel. Ha, more like Bates Motel. There looks to be maybe seven rooms with all the doors scratched like a lion tried to get into each one. Parking in the cracked parking lot covered in potholes, we both get out. River puts Huey in her bag and I tuck her close to my side, not liking the looks of this place at all. On our way to the front office, we pass a pool that is full of grass and weeds - it looks like a swamp.

Once inside, the smell of cigarettes is so strong it takes my breath away. There’s an old man in overalls and no shirt behind the counter playing cards. It’s muggy in here with no air conditioning. Walking across the lobby, my feet stick to the floor as if they pulled the flooring up and said fuck the leftover glue that’s stuck to the concrete.

“Do you have a room?” River asks in a cute voice. That innocent charm slipping into place.

The man doesn’t look up, her cuteness lost on him.

“One room. One hundred dollars,” the man says with a raspy voice.

River shuffles in her bag and gives the man the money. He glances at her hand, then through his smudged glasses.

Taking the money, he shoves it in his pocket and grabs something under the counter.

“Enjoy your stay, pretty flower,” he chuckles, his teeth stained yellow and making me grimace.

My shoulders lift not liking the way he’s looking my woman over. River just stands there as if she’s frozen, little hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Sidestepping her, I notice what has her in a daze.

The guy is holding a key attached to a rotten rabbit foot. It’s an off-white color and I’m pretty sure that’s bone on the end. Some people collect them for good luck, but this one looks like this man just hacked it off a rabbit and put it on there yesterday.

I snatch it from him, so River doesn’t have to touch it.

“Thanks.” My tone as dry as the decaying rabbit foot. Wrapping my arm around River, I take her out of the lobby and to our room, which is three doors down.

“Ooooh my God,” River draws out under breath. “Is that a real foot?” she asks softly. I just shake my head, not wanting her to look at it. Quickly I open our door, shut it and lock it behind us. We should have taken our chances at the next exit. This place is a fucking horror movie waiting to happen.

River places her bag down on the ground and Huey climbs out slowly. Even he isn’t sure about this place.

The floor is cheap black and white tile, and there’s a queen bed with ugly orange blankets on it. My sight swings over to the dresser that has red tape holding up the sides, and a TV that has a really large back on it. It’s not a flat screen, it’s like something from our parents' youth. I doubt it even works.

“I gotta pee,” River states, heading to the bathroom on the other side of the room. Huey looks up at me and whines.

“I know bud, it’s just for tonight.” I pat his head.

“Oh my God, Warner!” River screams. My biceps flex into protection mode and I race into the bathroom to see what’s going on.

River is in the doorway pointing toward the rusty tub, a dead rat floating in dirty water.

“I’m pretty sure it’s dead.” She holds her nose. I gag.

“Fuck that smells.” I wrinkle my nose while grabbing the bloated rodent by the tail, it’s stiff and been in there for a while from the looks of it. I hurry to the front door and throw it into the parking lot. Stupid fuckers, this is beyond gross.

“All I smell is rat now.” River shakes her head, stepping out of the bathroom.

“We’re going to have to drain the bath,” I reluctantly inform. If we don’t, it’s all we’re going to smell.

She looks over her shoulder into the bathroom with a frown. I hate that she has to stay in this place. Maybe we should just sleep in my truck.

“I’ll get it. You got the rat,” River volunteers.

“Don’t you dare touch that water!” I shout at her, making her jump where she stands. Rushing past her, I reach my hand into the nasty cold water, little rat hairs floating around my arm, and pull the drain. The water is so close to my mouth I have to keep my gag reflex in check or I swear I’m going to puke. Jerking my hand out of the water, it drips all over the stained floor.

“Where are your cute fucking soaps?” I ask out of breath, praying she stole the ones from the nice hotels we’ve been staying at. River darts out of the room, and I watch the water gurgle and swirl as it goes down, I cough.

“Here, here they are!” River quickly unwraps one of the white oval soaps from the hotel we went to the other day and I lather the shit out of my arms and fingers. I used to think her obsession with these soaps were stupid, now I say we collect as many as possible. You never know when you might need them.

“I gotta pee.” She pushes past me and pulls her dress up to her neck, and squats above the toilet, trying not to touch it as she pees. She wobbles and grabs onto my jeans to keep from falling into the tub.

“I’m not touching this toilet. It’s yellow and something tells me it didn’t come out of the factory like that.”

“You could embrace your hippie side and piss outside.” Angry eyes look up at me and I can’t help but laugh, watching her wipe, with actual clean toilet paper, and head into the main area.

Drying my hands off on my jeans, I glance at the bed, curious what awaits us under the sheets. River peels the cover back and jumps back as if she’s waiting for a snake to strike at her.

“The sheets look clean.” She examines them closely. Stepping up behind her, she’s right. They look okay.

“This is probably just a place to score drugs or something. I doubt anyone actually sleeps here.” I assume.

“That’s fucked up,” River sighs, still looking the bed over.

Climbing on the stiff mattress, I smell the pillow before laying down. It smells like mildew, but at least it’s not a dead animal.

“You know what, this might be the first night I sleep with my clothes on,” River laughs, trying to lay down next to me. She looks so awkward as she tries not to touch the mattress while trying to get into the bed.

I laugh, and her head jerks my way. Her cute little nose snarling as heated eyes stare me down.

“This is so not funny.”

“It is.” I laugh harder.

Laying on her hands, so she doesn’t have to touch the pillow her eyes shine making this dump not seem so bad with her by my side. This is just something we will laugh about later.

“Where are we going, Warner?” she whispers. “We need a place to go.”

My eyes become heavy and I shrug. She’s right, we’re just driving west, but eventually we’ll run out of road. We need a destination.

“Where do you wanna go?” I ask, my throat hurting as I’m so damn tired.

She smiles, closing her eyes.

“We could always go to the beach, but I don’t know… I want to go somewhere green.”

“Green?” I ask behind a yawn. I never saw myself wanting to go somewhere where it’s green. Beach, different country, something like that I could see.

“Yeah,” she whispers. A log cabin pops into my mind. The one my mother and I went to when my mom was determined to leave my father. Pink was the lady’s name we stayed with. It was with and she lived in Colorado. Maybe she still lived in the log cabin on the tallest mountain. That’s all I can remember of the place though. Besides all the pink crap.

“What about Colorado?” I suggest, remembering the bright brush and smell of leaves everywhere.

She giggles. “We could live in the mountains and get stoned every day.”

I try to laugh, but I’m too tired. All I can muster is a smile and fall asleep thinking of my hippie girlfriend trimming her pot plants while I sit on the porch watching her bend over.

“My mom has a friend there named Pink, she’s so cool. She has pink hair and even a pink dog.”

River’s eyes light up. “She would take us in?”

“My mom said she’d take us in whenever I needed it. I can’t remember where she lives exactly but how many people go by the name Pink?”

River smiles, taking my hand. “Colorado, here we come.”

Waking up this morning I feel stiff as I tried not to move on the bed too much. Huey cries next to the bed wanting out.

Sitting up, I head to my bag for some clean clothes. I pull out a black dress that dips in the front and has gold triangles all over it.

“Where are you going?” Warner asks with a sleepy voice.

“Huey needs to pee, and I forgot his food in your truck,” I tell him.

Warner sits up, rubbing his eyes. Grabbing the remote next to the bed he turns the TV on, and a crappy view of the news comes on. I’m surprised it even works.

“I’ll go with you. This place is scary as fuck, I don’t want you out by yourself.”

I bite back the smile tugging at my lips. His protective side is adorable.

Putting Huey on his leash, we all head outside. It’s cloudy out, but the wind is warm. Looks like a stormy day ahead of us. Walking across the parking lot, I check my phone, tons of messages from my parents still. More threatening today.

Glancing over at Warner, I notice his grimace.

“Your dad still not calling you?”

He shoves his phone into his pocket and doesn’t reply. His dad is a piece of fucking work. It goes to show what we’re doing is the right thing.

“Let’s get some coffee and donuts, and hit the road.” Warner points to a gas station across the street.

“You had me at coffee,” I moan. No traffic on the road we head across the street and into the store.

I grab a Starbucks coffee, and Warner stands in front of the donuts.

I step up next to him to inspect the goods, but we both just stand there and watch two roaches duke it out over a sprinkle that fell of the donut next to them.

“I wouldn’t eat that.” A female voice sounds from behind us. We turn and there stands a girl with blonde hair hanging out of a ponytail, her nose is pierced, and I swear her eyes are black like the ripped up jeans she’s wearing.

“I’m Ilsa, and this is my boyfriend, Cassius.” A guy casually steps up from the candy aisle with a bag of chips and an energy drink in his hands. His hair is crew cut and dark black. His eyebrows thick, and eyes bloodshot and blue. He’s wearing a black flannel shirt and white shirt wrinkled, and his jeans more than a little ripped.

“Sup.” His tone raspy as if he’s a hard smoker.

“Hi,” I greet them both. I haven’t seen anyone since we drove into this town, it’s nice to see some people our age. “I’m River, this is Warner,” I introduce us both.

“Place is a fucking shit zone,” Cassius mumbles, running his hand back and forth through his hair as he looks over his shoulder.

“Tell me about it.” Warner shakes his head, turning away from the donuts.

“Are you guys staying at the—” I pause, pointing to the motel.

“Fuck no, we slept in his van,” Ilsa replies, looking up to Cassius like he’s her whole world. They seem similar, yet the look in her eyes tells me maybe they’re not.

“Where y’all headed?” Cassius asks.

Grabbing onto Warner’s elbow, I give a light squeeze. We don’t know these people, so it’s best if we just be nice and get the hell out of here. “Just traveling,” I shrug.

Ilsa looks me up and down. “We’re headed west, far away from our parents.” Her teeth slide over her lips a little longer than necessary when she says the word far. I wonder why they’re running?

“Well, we better get. This place reminds me of The Hills Have Eyes,” Warner states, my squeezing his arm must have worked.

“That it does!” Cassius points at Warner, his smile bright and charming. In a punk rocker kind of a way, he’s kind of cute actually.

“Let’s get the fuck out of this place,” I whisper under my breath and turn to the cashier.

Warner pays for my coffee, and we head across the parking lot.

Ilsa yells my name and I stop. “River, right?” She squints an eye, holding a white box in her hands.

“Yeah, that’s right.” My voice hesitant.

“Here, we got these yesterday.” She hands me the box. Looking through the clear top, it has two donuts in it.

“Thanks!” My stomach growls thinking about the sugar load headed my way. She gives a small smile and runs back to her van where her boyfriend awaits.

“That was weird,” I state.

“They seem cool, but this place has me on edge,” Warner tells me, and I nod in agreement. If I met Ilsa and Cassius anywhere else, I’d probably be more chill. But this place is so different, I have my guard up to everything.

Coming up to Warner’s truck I notice our hotel door is wide open.

“Um, did you leave our door open?” I ask Warner, side-eyeing him with concern.

He looks at me with wide eyes before looking at the motel. “No!” He jogs to our room, and I tug on Huey’s leash to catch up. Please tell me we just didn’t shut it all the way.

“Fuck!” Warner hollers, and my heart falls to my stomach. Stepping inside the motel room, my bag is completely emptied all over the floor. My art supplies, makeup, clothes, all of it, everywhere. “The fucking money is gone,” Warner huffs, plopping down on the bed.

“No,” I mutter under my breath. Dropping to my feet, I go through everything to make sure he didn’t overlook it. I sift through my socks, shirts, sketchpad, everything. But he’s right, there’s no money here. Someone stole it.

Angry and fucking done with this place I toss my empty bag across the room, stand up and I march outside the room. I want a refund! This place is a fucking joke!

“River!” Warner hollers after me. Pushing on the front door to the main lobby, I nearly slam my face into the glass door as it doesn’t budge. It’s locked. Isn’t that convenient?

“You think he stole it?” I ask Warner now standing next to me.

Warner shrugs. “He’s the only fucking one around here, of course he did. I don’t know what makes me more angry. The fact I was duped, or my money was stolen. I don’t like feeling stupid, and right now I feel really fucking stupid… and broke.

Slamming my fist on the door, I scream. “Are you fucking kidding me? Open this door right now before I call the cops!” I’m clearly lying, I can’t call the cops.

“Come on, we’re fucked. They know we’re underage, they know we ain’t calling anybody.” Warner tugs on my shoulder.

Gritting my teeth and shaking my head, I go back into our room and pace. I’m so mad I begin to chew on my nails. They’re not getting away with this. He’s probably back in his office laughing at us, calling us stupid kids. Back in our room, I nearly step on my paint and I stop, glaring down at it on the floor. This makes me mad too, paint and supplies aren’t cheap. I freeze, an idea popping up in my head.

Grabbing the paint, I jump on top of the bed and start rubbing it onto the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Warner asks, moving out of the way.

I write letter after letter, a huge smile on my face as I relinquish the anger pent up inside my body. “Art!” I snap. Standing on my tiptoes, I finish my work of art and step down out of breath.

“Fuck you, pecker heads,” Warner reads what I wrote out loud, his arms crossed.

“Yeah, he’ll have to clean it or pay to clean it.” I shrug, feeling better that I vandalized his property. “I don’t know, I just feel better,” I snarl.

Done looking at the red painted letters on the wall, I turn around to put my things away and my eyes sweep across the TV in the process. I freeze. My face pales, and my heart stops beating causing my lungs to burn like hot coal.

“What’s wrong?”

Warner steps up next to me, and tenses like ice. We both stare at our pictures plastered on the TV from the local news.

“Warner Nine is missing and is a suspect in his father’s murder, it is said he has River Addington with him, but it’s unclear if she is willing or threatened at this time. If you see either of these kids, please call your local police station.”

Warner laces his fingers with mine, and my eyes fill up with tears taking in what the reporter just said, that Warner is a suspect in his dad's murder. I jerk my hand free, my head starting to ache. Murder? His dad is dead?

“Did… Did you kill your dad?” I ask with a mere whisper, not taking my eyes off our pictures. Warner’s football picture, and mine from one of our family photos. I know Warner and his dad weren’t close, but I can’t see Warner being a murderer, but then again why did he try and run away in the middle of the night so quickly?

“No.” Warner’s jaw clenches, offended I even asked him. My mouth parts and I look at him. My chest rises and falls as I stare at him, wondering how his father died. Did he do it? Is he lying?

He did come to me in the middle of the night in a frantic state ready to run. Even if he did do it, I can’t blame him. The man used him as a punching bag far too long, I just need to know the truth so we can protect each other.