Take Me Tomorrow

Chapter 27: A Dim Halo

A siren split the air. I jumped out of sleep as if from a nightmare—except this nightmare was my reality. I blinked frantically until my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the living room. Noah's living room. I may have run from him before, but in the end, there was nowhere to run. We were stuck in his childhood home until the sun rose. And while I had slept, Noah had been waiting for trouble. He crouched by the window, peering out of the split blinds. He was perfectly still, his chest barely moving, and his eyes moved from side to side, searching the blackness.

"What was that?" I whispered, pulling the thick comforter up to my neck.

Noah didn't respond. Distant red and blue lights splattered through the glass against his paled skin. He released the blinds slowly. "A cop pulled someone over on the main street." His voice shook as badly as it had when Phelps had shown up at my father's house. "But I don't like how close they are."

I buried myself in the blue comforter that had once been on Noah's childhood bed. He had brought it to the living room earlier, setting up the long couch for me to sleep on. He had promised to fall asleep on the smaller couch, but the sheet he was supposed to use as a blanket wasn't wrinkled. Instead of sleeping, he had been keeping guard. Now stress shadows clung to his eyes. The red police lights, even bleeding through the blinds, made it bright enough to see.

We waited like that for a moment, agonizingly still, completely silent. I could hear my heart pounding, my breath quieting. I was tired of running, and my ankle still throbbed. Lyn had diagnosed it as a bad sprain. She had wrapped it, and some of the pain had gone away, but I knew I wouldn't be fast enough to escape. I also knew Noah wouldn't leave me behind.

Outside, car tires squeaked against the pavement, and then the red light disappeared into the night.

Noah, carefully, peeked outside. "They'gone," he confirmed.

I sighed, relieved. He stood up and walked over to the small couch to sit down. Once seated, he leaned over, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. I'd never seen him look so worn-down.

"You okay?" he croaked.

I nodded, but I doubt he could see me. He had just stared directly into the lights. His vision would have to readjust. But I could see him perfectly, including how he avoided putting weight on his injured shoulder, how he hunched over in exhaustion.

"You should go back to sleep, Sophie," Noah said.

"Have you slept yet?"

"Go to sleep."

I grumbled but laid down, my head heavy. The emotional toll was enough to put me to sleep, but my anxiety was enough to keep me awake. "That couch is too small for you to sleep on, isn't it?" I asked, knowing the couch was the last reason for him avoiding sleep.

Noah didn't say anything.

"We can switch couches," I suggested.

"I'm not going to sleep." He sounded annoyed.

I refused to close my eyes. Without giving him time to question it, I stood up, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, and dragged it over to his couch. Plopping down next to him, our hips touched, and he tensed as I turned to him. "Then I'm not either."

Noah glared, his eyes ablaze. "You need it."

"I slept enough."

Noah hung his head in his hands and threaded his fingers through his bangs. His watch was still on. "You are one stubborn person."

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled beneath his breath as he leaned against my arm. I didn't move away. I gestured to his wrist instead. "You never take that watch off. None of you do," I said, cursing myself for not looking at Pierson's wrists. I would have to bet he had one, too.