Page 74 of Tormented
I wilt under the intensity of Sawyer’s stare.
“Let me guess,” Tap drawls, looking between the two of us. “You two want to travel in convoy.”
“I hadn’t really—” I’ve started to protest, when Sawyer’s chair legs hit the floor with a loud whack.
“Yeah, we do,” he answers with a stare that dares me to say otherwise.
God, after the way he damn near devoured me with his gaze when I flashed him, I can’t look at him for too long without wanting to break out in nervous giggles. No way in hell I’m travelling with him.
“It sounds like you’ve got more important things to sort out first,” I say, standing and picking up the plate. “I’ll get going now, see you there.”
“Nope. Nothing that can’t wait. Eh, Tap?”
The big guy positively glares at Sawyer.
“Don’t you need to refill your bike or some shit?” I try.
“Don’t you need gas for the truck?”
Fuck. Tap watches us with concerned interest as we bicker.
“I’ll follow you back,” Sawyer says with finality. “Meet you out front in thirty.” He stands and crosses the room to the adjoining kitchen.
His mug clinks in the sink as I meet Tap’s raised eyebrow. Shit.
“Anything you’d like to confess about where you really were this morning?”
“I’m all good.” I hesitate, thumbs running around the rim of the plate. I’m not sure Sawyer’s left the kitchen yet, and I’d like to avoid another heated interaction like earlier—even if I did start it.
“Ring me when you get halfway,” Tap says, dropping a hand to my shoulder. “Give me peace of mind, yeah?”
“He won’t harm me,” I whisper.
“Exactly what I’m worried about.” He looks toward the kitchen. “Go. I’m sure it’s safe to ditch your plate now.”
He leaves the same way he came in, back out to the main corridor. I stand in the room, flanked by the four matching timber tables, and sigh. What are you afraid of, Abbey? A day on the road together gives me plenty of time to work out how to broach the subject of the lines on his leg.
As long as I can keep my raging female hormones in check.
He’s been flirting nonstop, clearly not put off by the fact I shut him down the day he left Lincoln. At least, I think it’s flirting. Never had a guy initiate a proper relationship with me to know for sure.
Still—no point getting the hopes up, now, is there.
He’s probably playing you. Yeah, there’s that too. I know how he works, and nothing happens unless he’s going to benefit from it. A lot like me. He promises a thrill ride to rival the biggest and best theme park, except with his roller coaster, there’s no safe finish, just the uncontrollable fall into oblivion when the novelty’s worn off.
I’ve got to keep the upper hand and remain in charge if I want a chance at getting out of this without being burned. I can’t let him think he has one over me, and standing here afraid to enter the kitchen is doing just that; giving him the power. Besides, he’s probably out in the yard already. It’s been a while, right?
I stride forward, berating myself for being so weak after I’ve spent so long making sure I’m not. I was that scared and dependent little kid. I killed her when I found out how comforting the fog from a night of drinking could be. Day by inebriated day, I managed to shut her weak and unjustified fears down until I all but numbed every memory of who I was. A lot’s happened in the five weeks since he’s been gone.
God, I need a drink.
Fuck being sober. All it does is remind me of who I was escaping to begin with. I don’t like this girl, the one who second-guesses herself and seeks affirmation from everyone around her.
I’m a fucking warrior, and I don’t need anybody’s attention to make me feel vindicated. I polish my own crown.
“Starting to think you were going to take that fuckin’ thing with you.”
Damn it. “Have you been waiting the whole time?”