“Don’t worry. He’s probably concussed or something. Grab his legs, and maybe we can hide him behind that bush.”
Jioni stood there with her hands covering her mouth.
“Ugh. Never mind,” Emmitt said. He grabbed Jioni’s arms while running. “We need to move, so let’s move!”
Jioni frowned. There’s no way he’s been on the straight and narrow all year. The way he casually slipped into delinquency at the drop of a hat. It’s as if he’s been waiting all year for an excuse to be nefarious. It filled her with unease. But at the same time, there was also relief. No one in the city could understand the struggle like he did, even willing to help with something so illegal, probably for his own personal gain. Or maybe not. She found herself overthinking.
Jioni couldn’t ignore the hypocrisy in her thoughts. Calling him the criminal. She was the criminal now, and sadly, she had caused Emmitt to relapse. This was all so wrong, but her self-soothing mantra convinced her it was right. She then started to run faster. Fear carried her feet forward, but there was a mix of excitement and dread about the upcoming minutes.
Trepidation continued to plague her thoughts, so she looked forward as she ran. But occasionally, she looked back at Emmitt.
He always returned a determined glance—a smile. Never once did he fail to do that. That, this simple gesture, was enough to quell Jioni’s inner panic.
