Hansel 3(13)

“Do you go there often?” I ask a few minutes later.

“Not very,” he says.

I see him wince a little as he moves his bandaged hand.

“Is your hand okay?”

“It’s fine.”

So that’s how it is. Okay, I get the freakin’ point.

“This is going to be a long drive,” I say.

“Your choice.”

“Fine. I’ve got a lot of stupid game apps on my phone. I’ve even got two romance novel apps. The one from The Rockstars of Romance, and this new one from Shh, Mom’s Reading. I’m sure I can entertain myself reading about a big, hard cock that isn’t yours.”

I’m looking to get a reaction out of him—something; anything—and I guess I do. He reaches over and, with his bandaged right hand, turns up the volume of the radio. I don’t miss the way his face goes tight with pain caused by straightening two of his fingers.

A minute later, I remember from the other night: there are two volume buttons on the left side of the wheel.

*



An hour later, he exits abruptly and parks at the back of a grocery store parking lot. He does something that makes the lights of the dash glow a little brighter, then he turns those Hansel eyes on me.

Even in the dim light, they’re…sharp. Intense. Which is pretty strange, considering how ordinary his words are.

“There’s a Wendy’s and a McDonald’s here—Richfield—or we can wait an hour or so, till we get to Salina. They’ve got Subway, too.”

Before I can answer, he reaches around into the back seat and hoists the black bag into his lap. I watch him use his teeth to unzip it while his left arm grips it, but I don’t dare offer to help.

He pulls out a handful of organic power bars and two bottles of water. He hands me one of the bars, one of the bottles, and takes one of the bottles for himself.

Before he can do anything else ridiculously stubborn, I grab it out of his hand and twist the top off.

“Here,” I tell him with my eyebrows lifted.

He looks at me for a long moment before taking a long swig. Then he sets the bottle in his cup-holder and, without looking over at me, he asks, “What’ll it be?”

I peel the power bar open and take a bite. It’s not bad. Tastes like peanut butter. “I can wait,” I tell him.

I’m not even finished chewing before we’re lurching into motion again, rolling out of the parking lot and back toward the interstate.

As he speeds up and gets into the left lane, I tuck my power bar wrapper into my purse and dare to ask a question.

“Why does The Forest look like Mother’s house?”

I don’t even get a glance from him.

Feeling stupid, feeling pissed, I put my earphones back into my ears and turn up Lana del Ray. I can’t pinpoint the moment that my eyes slip shut, but the next time I open them, I’m being lifted by a pair of strong arms. Bright light stings my eyes.

“We’re here,” his low voice murmurs.

I tense my shoulders a little, lift my head, and see that here is an off-brand, mom and pop hotel with tan brick and a red roof.

“Don’t worry,” he tells me as we pass quickly through the dim lobby and he starts climbing stairs. “I’ve got your stuff inside your room.” A second later, as he opens the stairwell door to the second floor and starts striding down the hall, he tells me, “Rooms adjoin. But I don’t want your company.”

He lays me on the fluffy, white duvet and looks down at me with his strange, hard eyes. Then he’s going through the door between our rooms.





CHAPTER SIX

Leah



I awaken in the dark to a strange, static-like noise, and my mind picks up exactly where it left off: me crying into my pillow, surrounded by a room full of every toiletry, gas station snack, and random little amenity known to man.

I don’t know if he stopped at a gas station or pharmacy while I was sleeping, or if he got all these things at the desk downstairs and laid them out on my room’s TV table for me, but I do know packaged cinnamon rolls, two boxes of cereal, flavored water, lotion, hand sanitizer, a U-shaped neck pillow, and a fresh toothbrush don’t come standard; neither do the two bottles of milk I found in the refrigerator, nor the still-warm cheeseburger and fries tucked in a Wendy’s bag. What got me the most was the Twix bar, grape/strawberry Nerds, and two bottles of Sprite. I used to talk endlessly about my favorite munchies, and he remembered all of them.

I can feel how puffy my eyes are as I blink into the darkness.

Even though I can’t see the door that leads into the second floor hall, I know it must be shut, and I immediately start doing my deep breathing exercises to keep myself from freaking out even more than I already have.