Chapter 3 Cole
THREE
COLE
This isn’t really happening right now, is it? Oh, for fuck’s sake. Wasn’t it enough that a dog literally ran into my truck on Monday, so I have to drive to the vet clinic every day since to visit?
"Please!" The girl literally begs me while she looks at me with those amber eyes of hers.
"I can’t take you with me," I reply with a harsh tone, hoping it will get her to get out of my fucking pickup. A girl who just clings to my leg is really the last thing I need right now.
She quickly turns her head toward the house. I follow her gaze and see a middle-aged woman approaching us with an expression far from happy. My suspicion deepens that I should get this girl out of the truck as soon as possible.
She looks at me again. "I’m begging you, drive."
Every fucking cell in my body screams to shut down the engine, get out of the car, and pull her from the passenger seat with my own hands.
But as I hear her voice—the way it trembles and seems hurried—and look into her wide-open eyes, I can’t bring myself to do it.
There’s so much desperation and fear in the warm brown that I put the gearshift in D instead, look at the road ahead, and drive off. Through the red light.
The tires spin briefly, but before the woman can reach us, the truck shoots forward. The girl turns in her seat to look out of the small rear window of the pickup. In the outside mirror, I can see the woman desperately trying to follow us, and I congratulate myself inwardly for my bad luck.
I have no idea what the hell is going on here, but I hope the woman couldn’t decipher my damn license plate because she doesn’t seem too happy about what’s happening.
When the road makes a slight bend and the intersection, along with its useless traffic light and the angry woman, disappear from our view, the girl turns around again and visibly slumps in her seat. I can even hear the air leaving her lungs as if she’d been holding her breath.
"Thank you."
It’s only a barely audible whisper. When my gaze shifts to her, she looks at me with wide eyes as if I’m both her savior and the devil in one person.
I’m certainly not the former, I think to myself with a hint of bitterness, before looking back at the road.
After turning left at an intersection, I reduce the speed until we come to a halt on the side of the road. Then I kill the engine, turn my upper body, and take a closer look at her.
She’s wearing something that looks like it was made by the Amish even though it’s not a dress.
A few strands of gold-blond hair have loosened from her simple, low-sitting knot.
Her skin has a light shade without being pale, and her plump lips are slightly parted as she looks at me with what seems to be a cocktail of curiosity and fear.
"What was that about?" I ask her bluntly, the words coming out harsher than intended.
She lowers her gaze and looks at her hands, which she’s wringing in her lap. "I…"
"You?"
"I had to leave." As she speaks, she looks up with a now defiant look.
"Why did you have to leave? And who was that woman?" I already have a pretty good idea of what the answer is, but still, I want her to say it out loud. As if I had to confirm that the shit she just got me into is more than just knee-deep.
"She’s my mother."
"You didn’t answer the first question."
She seems to consider her next words but doesn’t look away. "I just had to leave."
Annoyed, I run a hand through my hair. "So you had to leave your mother, but you won’t tell me why?" I summarize while wondering what I’m even doing here.
She nods while chewing on her bottom lip.
"What’s your name?"
Her lip is almost bleeding as she finally lets go of it to answer my question. "Sophie."
"And where do you wanna go?"
Now she does look away, which only highlights the truth in her next words. "I don’t know."
Great. Fucking great.
At a loss for words, I look ahead while I try to sort through my thoughts. Dark clouds hang low, and dusk will soon set in. The road ahead snakes through the bleak woods, leading to everywhere and nowhere.
"What’s your name?" Sophie asks after a few moments of silence.
"I don’t see why I—"
"I did tell you what my name is," she declares boldly, and I look at her in surprise.
After several seconds, I avert my gaze while shaking my head, and reach into the center console for my cigarettes. "I’m Cole." And I really need to calm down so I can decide what to do next, but unfortunately, I don’t have any whiskey on hand right now.
After lighting the cigarette and taking a deep drag, Sophie’s voice reaches my ears. "Aren’t you afraid of dying?"
Slowly, I look at her again. She’s now turned fully toward me and looks me dead in the eye with a hint of curiosity, paired with skepticism.
"Excuse me?"
"You smoke. Smoking kills," she states naturally and points toward my cigarette with a slender finger.
Is she for real?
"No, I am not. Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Afraid of dying."
She frowns. "Why do you ask me this?"
I have to suppress a grin and shake my head instead. "I don’t know what’s gone on in your life, but surely, you were taught not to talk to strangers, and certainly not to get into their cars. For all you know, I could be a deranged serial killer."
Her frown deepens before she continues speaking with a seriousness that’s almost amusing. But only almost. "Are you a deranged serial killer?"
Something’s terribly wrong here. Who is this girl? And why is she acting like she’s the first human on Earth?
"Jesus fucking Christ," I mutter, closing my eyes and rubbing my face in frustration.
Sophie gasps.
"What now?" I prepare for the next stunner. And she doesn’t disappoint.
"You… swore.?
When I open my eyes again to look at her, hers are widened in shock.
"And?"
"You’re not supposed to swear," she replies with conviction.
I’d laugh if this whole situation wasn’t so goddamn fucked up. "Why not?"
"Because you… well… you—"
"Swearing won’t do any harm to anybody," I interrupt her stammer. "Quite the opposite. It feels good." I take a last deep drag from my cigarette before I stub it out in the ashtray. "You should try it. Say shit. Or fuck. You’ll see that nothing’s going to happen. It won’t rain blood. Trust me."
Sophie’s eyes widen even more before she narrows them and tilts her head. "Are you making fun of me right now?"
Oh bloody fucking hell…
"What if I was?"
She lifts her chin defiantly. "That would not be nice."
The laughter that erupts from my throat is short and joyless. "Oh, little darling… If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s nice."
"But you’re not a serial killer, either. And you took me with you." She makes it sound as if those were clear indicators that I was certainly a nice person. And as if she could read me perfectly.
"Because… Are you for real? God damn!" Again, I run my hands through my hair in frustration.
"What was I supposed to do? Push you out of the car?
Let your mother tear me apart? I may not be a serial killer.
And yes, I took you with me. But that does not make me a nice guy.
Remember that. And now put your fucking seat belt on.
" I sit up straight again and start the engine.
As the seconds pass by and I don’t hear the click of the seat belt, I turn my head reluctantly.
Sophie’s holding the belt in her hands, but she’s pulling on the wrong side.
What the…?
I huff in frustration before leaning over the middle console and grabbing the belt to pull it over her body.
Sophie stiffens and holds her breath as my fingers graze her hip.
She smells of herbs. Is it eucalyptus? I’m not quite sure, but it’s a very pure scent.
I can’t recall anyone near me ever smelling like that.
When I lift my gaze, she looks at me with wide eyes. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know…"
"It’s okay," I reply with a slightly softer voice because I believe that she actually has no idea how to buckle up, and that fact means so much more that I now feel kind of sorry for her.
"Cole?"
"Yeah?" I tear my gaze away from her lips. How did it even land there? And how long have I been staring at them?
"Where are we going?"
I pull back to look ahead and put the gearshift into D before driving off. "We are not going anywhere. I’ll take you to the next bus station, and then we will part ways."
I sure as hell won’t play the caretaker for her.
However, I don’t have the heart to throw her out in the middle of nowhere.
But even though every decent citizen would probably take her to the next police station, that’s the last thing I’ll do.
I’m not a decent citizen. Besides, I hate cops and stay away from them as much as I can.
A soft okay is her only response, and I’m almost surprised. I would have expected her to protest or name a place she wants to go to after all, but no.
We drive in silence while I ask myself why she wanted to leave her mother so badly that she threw herself in the vehicle of a stranger. That’s not normal, for fuck’s sake.
When I glance at her, she’s sitting a little straighter again and is watching the greenery rush past outside the window.
"How far is the next bus station?" she asks after several minutes of sweet silence.
"Around twenty miles." I ignore the snide voice in my head that tells me how stupid it is to drive that far for some stray girl.
"Where does the bus go from there?"
"The buses. There are many departing from there." To my own surprise, I now sound calm and almost patient. "They drive everywhere. You just have to think of a place you want to go to."
"Will a bus even depart today?" She wants to know with real astonishment.
"It’s not that late, so yes. One will definitely depart."
How is it possible that she doesn’t know this?
When I see the first lights of a town in the distance, Sophie straightens even more in her seat and looks out the windshield with big eyes as if she’s never seen anything like that.
But I refuse to rack my brain about it any longer.
After all, I will drop her off in a few minutes and then hopefully never see her again.
"We’re here," I declare needlessly after steering the pickup into the almost empty parking lot, stopping a few meters away from the ticket booth.
Sophie looks around with still widened eyes and gulps before she looks at me. Her gaze pierces me to the core, which is why I avert mine. Quickly, I reach to the right to unbuckle her before I place my hand back on the gear shift.
"Thank you," she says softly as she carefully frees herself from the seat belt.
I don’t reply to anything, but she doesn’t make any effort to get out of my car. The silence stretches for several minutes until she speaks the words I least want to hear.
"Can’t you take me with you?"
I jerk my head to the right in disbelief. She looks down again, writhing her fingers in her lap. Fuck… did she really just ask me this?
"No," I declare harshly, hoping that she finally gets out.
"Why not?"
There are so many answers to this question that my head starts spinning just thinking about it. "I can’t take you with me. End of discussion."
She surrenders and looks at the ticket booth and the few people waiting for their buses. "How much is a ticket?"
"Do you have any money?"
When she shakes her head, I sigh and reach for my wallet to pull out a few fifty-dollar bills and hold them out to her. "Here. That should be enough to get you to Timbuktu. Now get out. I don’t have all night."
The hardness in my voice makes her flinch, but she turns her head toward me and looks at the bills in my hand before lifting her gaze to my face. "I—"
"Fucking take it," I grumble.
She flinches again, but then straightens her shoulders and takes the money.
Her fingers brush mine slightly. They’re cold and shaking, but I ignore them and look ahead.
Then I finally hear the sound of the passenger door opening and her getting out.
She’ll be gone in a second, and I can drive back home.
Not that anyone will be waiting for me there, but that doesn’t matter.
It’ll be as if we never met. In three days, I’m sure I’ll have forgotten her. And that’s a good thing.
Nonetheless, I can’t repress the impulse. Before she can shut the door, I take a last look at her. "Take care of yourself, little darling."