St Louis, Missouri, Best Value Inn, 2019
They found another motel that made the K-River Inn look like the Sheraton. But then that was deliberate. Knowing the FBI was on Chris' tail, they needed a place so dubious the management would take cash without bothering with IDs.
The corners and ceilings were moldy and the damp smell was intense. Half the mattress springs were flattened making the bed appear to slope to the right. The drapes were merely muslin cloth and hadn't seen a wash in years. They fell across the window in tatters, like a cat clawed holes from top to bottom.
There were used condoms in the bin and a faint dusting of suspicious white powder over most flat surfaces. The toilet overflowed and the bathtub was black with human dirt and hair.
It was a true indication of his frame of mind that Noah, almost obsessive compulsive when it came to cleanliness, should notice none of it.
He sat on the filthy covers of the bed; and tried to remember the last time he was truly happy. But he couldn't. That fear they lived with on a daily basis undercut everything; almost the foundation on which they survived. And it was buzzing at crescendo levels under Noah's skin.
Guilt built up brick by brick inside of him; making him doubt everything he'd done and all the decisions he'd made to get to this point. He'd left them both; first Leo and now Luke.
"I'm sorry, Noah."
Noah was almost surprised by Chris's voice. He'd traveled so deeply inside himself he'd forgotten the doctor was there.
"It's not your fault," he replied flatly.
Chris leaned up against the closed motel door. "They must have put a flag on those files and then traced my call with Katie. I should have anticipated that."
Noah shook his head. He wasn't angry at Chris, but he was too tired to argue.
"I doubt they were expecting to find youguys there," Chris continued. "I think they came for me."
"Yeah." Noah rubbed his face in his hands and breathed through the gaps between his fingers.
"You did the right thing," Chris said after a moment.
"Did I?" Noah slapped his palms on his thighs. "Or did I just run away? Tell me I didn't just leave Luke to die… please… tell me that, Chris!"
Chris moved to sit beside his new friend. He placed a hand on Noah's shoulder, the only comfort he could give him; and winced when he realised Noah was still barefoot. The brunette's feet were pretty cut up, not that Noah seemed to notice.
"Like I said before... even if the plan is to see you dead, they'll want both of you first. Luke should be safe as long as you're out here."
Noah looked over at Chris with two hopeless blue eyes. "God, I hope you're right… because if you're not..." Noah's voice cracked painfully like glass.
"Don't think the worst," Chris told him. "I managed to copy most of the information. Here…" he handed Noah a small USB stick suspended on a lanyard that advertised Oakdale Memorial Hospital. "…everything's saved on here. As back up…"
Noah slipped the red lanyard over his neck and hid the stick down the front of his shirt. For the first time, he noticed he was still wearing the blue scrubs from the hospital. He actually laughed. "I'm a mess, aren't I? I must look like Jackson Avery on speed!"
Chris smiled supportively. "You could use a razor and some soap, that's for sure. Though I'm not sure you'll want to risk contaminating yourself in that bathroom!"
Noah wrinkled his nose. "Definitely not!"
A loud knock at the door startled them and they propelled to their feet like they'd been mechanically ejected.
"Shit!" Noah voiced through his teeth. "How did they find us?"
Chris was silent for a moment and then the door knock came again. "They didn't,"
"What?"
"They didn't. It's impossible! My cell phone is powered off."
Noah frowned at the door, realizing Chris might be right. If it was the FBI, they would have announced themselves by now. "Then who...?"
After another loud knock, Chris stepped forward, took a deep breath and opened the door.
Even as a mere outline in the hazy sunlight, Noah recognized Damian. Behind him stood two of his regulatory thugs; one large, one small.
Such a cliché!
"Where's Luciano?" Damian asked, with narrow eyes and accusatory words striking like daggers.
"The FBI took him into custody," Noah replied, trying not to look as ashamed as he felt. "How did you find us?"
"The car we gave the good doctor is electronically tagged. Now finish answering my question."
"I had to leave him behind," Noah confessed, feeling like a child caught stealing from a store and being made to apologize to the owner. He took a moment to catch Damian up on the series of events.
"So you just ran away? Like the coward I always knew you were! You just left my son with those dogs!"
"Now wait just one minute!" Chris intervened.
Damian shot him a look like death warmed over. "This has nothing to do with you."
With this thick accent, Damian's tone was somehow made more menacing.
Determined he had enough to fear without the further intimidation from Luke's biological father, Noah stood his ground. "I didn't want to leave him, Damian! I hadto!"
"Do you know why you're in this pile of shit?" Damian exclaimed in anger, gesticulating dismissively at them with both arms flailing wildly. "It's because you did not listen to me!"
"We didlisten," Noah insisted.
"You did not listen!" Damian repeated.
"Yes, we did!" Noah seethed back. "You told us to run! So we ran! You told us to hide. So we hid! You told us to change our names, leave our family! Everything! Everything you told us to do, we did!"
Noah could feel the heat rising in his cheeks from anger that clawed at every fiber of his being. Not just at Damian, but at everything and everyone that stood in the way of them having the life they deserved.
"I told you to keep a low profile!" Damian told him. "What do you do? You run off and kidnap some kid! You come out into the open!"
"That kid…" The words started to stick in Noah's throat in gluey clumps as the full weight of his situation hit him. "…that kid…"
Oh God!
"Out of everything we've done over the past 10 years… that kid is the only thing we did right…"
Ignoring him, Damian continued. "You have betrayed me and everything I did for you! All the risks I took to save your life! You spit in my face in disrespect!"
"Come on, Damian," Chris placated. "Can't you see Noah's been through enough?"
"He's not the one sitting in a cold cell right now, Dr. Hughes! My son is!"
"You think I want this?" Noah bitterly asked. "I'd trade places with Luke in a heartbeat! But I can't!"
"No. You can't," Chris agreed, turning back to Damian. "So we have to work extra hard to get Luke out of there."
"We wouldn't be in this situation, if you'd stayed hidden instead of chasing after a… a fantasy!" Damian stated, still doing his best to ignore Chris as he addressed Noah.
"When our cover was blown in Arlington, we couldn't start over from scratch. We just couldn't, Damian." All the energy rushed from Noah's body and he sat heavily back on the bed; his elbows wedged into his knees and he ran fingers through his greasy hair as he whispered, "We just couldn't."
"Okay. This ends now," Chris demanded in a surprisingly authoritative voice. "We're all tired and frazzled and tempers are high. We need food and sleep. Things will look clearer after some rest."
Damian eyed the room with disgust. "Well, you won't survive long in this pit! My men will arrange to slip you into a proper hotel. And you'll need fresh clothes."
But Noah had already curled himself into a ball on the bed and closed his eyes. With a heart as heavy as his exhaustion, he couldn't go anywhere. Even if he wanted to.