Kevin's breath came in ragged gasps as he staggered out the back door of the motel, slipping into the chaos of flashing police lights and shouting reporters. He was bleeding from his lip, his eyebrow, a gash on his side that made every step feel like a knife. But none of it mattered.
Somewhere out there, Matt was running because he'd told her to. Running because she still believed, even in her heartbreak, that he'd meant to protect her. He hadn't not really. Not until now.
He slipped through the shadows behind the police tape, ducked into an alley, and forced himself to keep moving. He could feel Richard's men closing in, but he didn't care. They'd already lost. The world knew the truth now. But the cost… the cost was Matt.
In the half-light of an abandoned diner, Kevin pulled out his phone battered, screen flickering. He opened the app he'd hidden so carefully the one that pinged a tiny tracker he'd tucked in the lining of the duffel bag before handing it to her.
When the blinking dot popped up moving slowly north along a highway out of town he felt something twist painfully in his chest.
Memories crashed over him:
Matt laughing in the break room when they shared stale vending machine snacks. Matt brushing sleep from her eyes after long shifts. Matt whispering I love you into the hollow of his throat.
He'd buried every bit of that under Emily's ghost but now Emily's voice was quiet. Not forgiving. Not forgotten. But quiet. As if she'd given him permission to stop destroying everything in her name.
He hadn't protected Matt. He'd used her. Lied to her. Touched her body like it was a weapon and a shield all at once. But maybe maybe there was still a chance to fight for her now. For real.
By dawn, Kevin was driving a stolen pickup down the same highway, rain spitting against the cracked windshield. He'd wiped the blood off as best he could, patched his side with duct tape and an old T-shirt. Every mile closer to the blinking dot made his chest tighten not with rage this time, but with fear. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she ran again?
Good, he thought grimly. If she hated him, she'd stay safe. But he couldn't let her do this alone anymore.
Matt's bus had stopped at a grim little roadside station. She sat under the buzzing fluorescent lights, the duffel at her feet, a stale cup of coffee cooling in her hands. Her eyes were hollow, dark with exhaustion and betrayal. Every time she closed them, she saw Kevin the warmth in his touch, the ice behind his eyes.
She hated him. She needed him. She hated herself for both.
She didn't see him pull up outside. Didn't see him limping across the cracked pavement. But she felt it that shift in the air when he stepped through the door.
Her eyes snapped up and there he was. Bruised. Bleeding. More broken than she'd ever seen him. But real.
They stared at each other for a long moment. No lies left to hold between them.
Kevin's voice cracked when he spoke. "Matt. I… I'm so sorry."
Matt let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob. "Sorry? You ruined me."
"I know," he rasped. "I know. And I'd do it again for Emily. But not like this. Not us."
He dropped to one knee in front of her, ignoring the pain that shot up his leg. He reached out, but didn't touch her not yet. "I tracked you. I had to. I couldn't just let you run alone. Not now."
She looked at him, searching his eyes for another lie. But for the first time, there was nothing but raw, broken truth.
"I didn't know how to stop," he whispered. "I didn't know how to love you and still destroy him. But it's done. He's done. And you're all I have left that's real."
Matt's lip trembled. "You think you can just say sorry and I'll forgive you?"
Kevin shook his head. "No. I don't expect forgiveness. I just… I want to fight with you now. Not against you. If you'll let me."
Outside, dawn broke over the gray lot a new day neither of them deserved, but maybe needed anyway.
Matt stared at him at this man who'd ripped her heart open, then come crawling back to piece it together with shaking hands. She hated him. She wanted him.
Maybe both could be true.
She leaned forward, pressed her forehead to his tears mixing with the blood on his cheek. "Then don't ever lie to me again," she whispered.
Kevin closed his eyes, breathing her in like oxygen. "Never again."
And in that tiny station, under buzzing lights and peeling paint, two broken people decided to try. Not to forget. Not to undo. But to survive together.