Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Eloise
My heart beats fast as we get farther and farther away from that town. I didn’t like its vibe. Bad things happened there. I don’t think June and I were the only victims. That man hurt others, and he got away with it.
I know a lot of people who have done bad things and gotten away with it. Too many. But today, the world is a tiny bit brighter because it now has one less abuser. Good riddance.
Cannon points to the golden arches as we pull into the next town. “Yeah?”
I smile. My stomach grumbles again. The apple wasn’t enough to fill me up.
Cannon pulls into the drive-thru. “I assume you don’t want to go in.”
“No. Please.”
“Do you want to pick something to eat?”
“Can you just do it?” I ask. I don’t want to be indecisive, but for some reason, I like the way Cannon takes charge of things. He keeps fixing things. One after another. I’m beyond exhausted. I don’t want to make decisions. I want him to do it.
“Yes, Little one. I’ll order for you. But you have to tell me whether you want a cola or lemon-lime soda.”
“Cola, please.” My mouth waters. When did I last have soda? I don’t know. I can’t even remember what it might taste like.
Cannon places our order and pulls forward.
I finally release my backpack and ease it onto the floor between my feet. I’m warmer now, and I push my sleeves up, wincing when I see how red my wrists are.
When he glances at me, his gaze settling on my wrists, I tug my sleeves back down. I don’t know why, but I feel the urge to protect him from my pain. It’s the strangest sensation. It’s like he hurts when I do, and I don’t want him to wince on my behalf, so I won’t remind him of my minor injuries.
Honestly, I’ve suffered worse on more than one occasion. Most of what happened today doesn’t even rank on my pain-o-meter. What happened today only ranks on my fear-o-meter. I was scared out of my mind.
Also, not the first time. How many twenty-two-year-old women can say that being abducted from the side of the road and held hostage by a man swinging a gun around isn’t the worst day of their life? Maybe a lot, actually, but the idea makes me cringe.
Cannon hands me the biggest soda I’ve ever seen.
I take it from him, nearly dropping it from the weight. “Sheesh. Why did you get a large?”
He grabs the bag of food from the window employee next and pulls into a parking spot before helping me settle the giant drink in the cupholder. “Drink as much as you want, angel.” He pauses, lifts his gaze, and smiles. “Eloise.”
I lick my lips. “I kind of like it when you call me angel.” It makes me feel special. No one’s ever had a nickname for me. Unless I count bitch or stupid cunt.
“How about I mix it up? Sometimes I’ll call you Eloise. Sometimes I’ll call you angel. And sometimes I’ll call you Little one.”
I cock my head to one side. “Because I’m small?”
He chuckles. “Not exactly.” He pulls a burger out of the bag and hands it to me. “See what you think of this.”
I open the flap of the box and nearly groan from the smell alone. I’m so hungry. It smells like heaven. I lift it to my mouth and take a huge bite. And then I moan. “Oh my God…” I say around the bite.
Cannon laughs. “I guess that’s a yes?”
I tip my head back, close my eyes, and sigh as I swallow. “So good.”
“Don’t eat too fast, Little one. I suspect you haven’t had a proper meal in a long time. I don’t want you to get sick.”
That’s the second time he’s worried about me getting sick.
He said the same thing earlier when I drank the bottle of water in seconds.
It’s so strange for someone to give one single fuck about my health.
No one has ever cared about my health. He also cares about my safety—buckling me into the car. Twice.
Cannon holds out a carton of fries.
I take one. It’s still hot and nearly burns my tongue when I put it in my mouth. But the salty goodness is delicious. I moan again, enjoying myself far too much.
When I reach for another fry, Cannon pulls the carton out of reach. There’s a strange twinkle in his eyes, though. “Promise me you’ll stop purring every time you take a bite?”
My face heats, and I jerk my face away. Shit.
Cannon immediately sets the fries on the console between us. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Eloise. That was crass and unnecessary.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I was teasing, but I shouldn’t have. You can have all the fries you want. You may also purr while you eat them. I like your little noises.”
I’m trembling. I can’t stop. I want to be normal and brush off his comment. I know he didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just not sure what normal looks like or how to recognize a joke.
I’m not used to letting myself feel or experience joy. I never would have done that in the past four years. I wouldn’t dare have risked bringing attention to myself. Not that I had much reason to smile anyway.
Cannon twists so he’s facing me better. He lifts my chin with a finger. “Please, Eloise, forgive me.”
My face is flushed, but I nod. “Nothing to forgive. I’m sorry I’m so weird.”
“You’re not weird. Don’t talk down about yourself, Little one. You’re traumatized from a lifetime of being shit on. I shouldn’t have made such an insensitive comment. That’s on me.” He puts a hand over his heart. “Forgive me?”
It feels strange having someone—a man, in fact—asking for my forgiveness. He’s so sincere. I don’t like the frown on his face. I put it there. So I reach up and squeeze his hand. “Of course.” Then I glance down. “Can I have more of those fries, please?”
He finally relaxes and leans back. “You may have all the fries in the world if that’s what you want, Eloise.”
I eat another one, careful not to make a sound as I chew, swallow, and then smile. Fuck, they are tasty.
We eat our burgers in silence, and then I down half that soda before Cannon puts a hand over mine. “Slow down, Little one. I mean it. You’ll end up puking in ten minutes.”
I nod and put the soda back in the holder. “Sorry. You’re right. I don’t want to vomit in your car.”
“I don’t give a fuck about my car, Eloise. I care about you having an upset tummy.” He lifts a brow.
“Okay.” Again with the caring. I’m going to go all soft if he keeps taking care of me. It feels so…parental? I’m not sure if that’s the right word. I know I’m young, but I’m not that young. Maybe he thinks I am?
“I’m twenty-two, you know,” I blurt out.
“Yes, Little one. I figured that when you said you were with a foster family four years ago. That was my guess.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five. Does that make me old?”
I shrug. “Not really. Does twenty-two make me a child?”
His brow furrows. “Not even close.”
“You keep calling me Little one. You even pointed it out.”
His face relaxes. “Little one is a term of endearment for me.”
I nod slowly. “I’ve never heard it.” Though, again, the only terms of endearment I’m used to are bitch and cunt.
“Now you have.” He stuffs our wrappers into the bag, jumps out of the car, and jogs over to the trash can to dispose of everything. When he’s back, he buckles in. “It’s about two hours to my apartment in Seattle. If you want to adjust the seat to take a nap, there’s a lever next to the door.”
“I’m okay,” I murmur. I’m actually more tired than ever before. Possibly because I really do feel safe, and that safety is causing me to let my guard down. I wonder if I could rest without one eye open while he drives.
Just in case, I reach for the lever and enjoy the way the electronics lean me back. I stare out the window for a while, breathing easier. My mind is settling. Currently, I’m not in danger. No one is going to find me while Cannon drives me down the highway toward Seattle.
I close my eyes.
Maybe just a short rest…