Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I don’t know why I agreed to take Princess with me, but it might have something to do with the fact that I’m a little bitch, and I can’t stand the thought of being alone after I’ve just lost twice in a row.
It’s not fair to bring Princess into this, especially if there’s a chance Arthur tries to find me again.
But nothing’s fair, and I may not fight for myself, but I absolutely would for Princess.
I press the accelerator, flying down some country road.
I can almost feel the wings on the bottoms of the wheels, carrying me away from this fucking town.
This is all my fault. Had I just fucking stood up to Arthur, none of this would have happened.
Sure, maybe he would have killed me for real, but it would have been a noble death. None of this fucking frozen shit.
Maybe if I just run, I can leave all this behind. Pay Arthur off, change my name, and just fucking start over. No one trying to get one over on me. No one trying to hurt me. No one who hates me.
My throat is tight. Why does it feel like life is a nightmare that keeps repeating? Micah is playing the same game as Arthur, and fuck, why the hell does that make me want to cry? I should have known that. I did know that. I just didn’t want to.
Micah knows. He fucking knows about Arthur. How does he know? Do they know each other?
No. Arthur would have killed him.
Of course he knows. Arthur is a weakness, and Micah would know it to exploit me better.
My throat gets tight, then there’s a snort from my floorboard and some sort of plastic crackling. I rip my eyes from the road to check on Princess, who’s nose deep in a granola bar wrapper.
“Hey.” I reach down to snatch it away, swerving a little. Princess dodges my attempts, and I have to lean further.
“C’mon, dude, you’re gonna choke.” Fear makes tears build in my eyes. When I finally grab it, I look back up at the road in time to see some small animal running across the road.
I swerve, jerking the wheel as cold fear pierces my chest. The car veers left, into the other lane, and I jerk the wheel violently to the right. For a minute, I feel the car lift up on two tires, and I correct it again. There’s a screech before the car thuds back down.
I slam on the brakes, pulling to the side of the road, heart racing.
Holy fuck. Holy fuck.
Every emotion hits me at once–fear, anger, guilt–so hard I can barely breathe. I glance over at Princess, who has half the granola bar in both hands.
He’s okay. He’s fucking okay.
I think I’m going to be sick.
I open the car door, step out into the cool evening air, and shut it. I stumble to the other side of the car before I’m hurling everything I have into the grass ditch on the side of the road. When I’m done, I stagger back a step, then sit down.
That look in Micah’s eye when I took the phone. It was the same look Arthur used to give me. Repressed anger. And then…he said he’d kill Arthur.
My stomach clenches again as all kinds of emotions flood my system. Confusing emotions. Who gives a fuck if he kills Arthur? Fucking good riddance.
I try to imagine the look of cold, detached hatred on Micah’s face, and it makes my stomach turn again. When I try to picture him with that look, all I see is the face Arthur made leaning over me as he put both hands on my throat and strangled me to the bathroom floor.
No!
I stand up.
I mean, yes. Micah has been spying on me. Why the hell would I care if I see Arthur when I see him? I should. That will keep me safe.
Suddenly, I remember Micah’s lips on mine. The way he let me gather him back into my arms. He let me. Arthur never did that.
My throat becomes less tight, and I let out a breath. Micah is different, though. He doesn’t play exactly the same way, and maybe that’s why I didn’t see the move coming. I need to learn Micah’s game instead of Arthur’s game. Well, both games at this point.
I let out a heavy breath.
I should run. I should take Princess and run and never come back. I can find another job, right? I can change my name. Live off-grid.
Only, all of that requires money.
“Fuck!” I rip at my hair. I take a step, then trip over something. I glance down. It’s the carpet for someone’s floorboard, and annoyance floods through me. People just throw anything out the window. Fucking useless, fucking assholes!
I’m not sure how long I pace, paralyzed. It takes me a while to realize that I left Princess unattended in my car with all kinds of things to chew on. I stride back to the car to see Princess is trying to climb over the center console into the backseat, presumably to scrounge for more snacks.
“Hey.” I grab Princess and put him in my lap. His weight is immediately calming, and a massive wall of guilt hits me. I put him in danger. Hot tears well up in my eyes.
Princess ignores me completely, trying to climb into the backseat again.
“Hey,” I say. “I don’t know if you can eat any of the stuff back there. It might make you sick.”
Princess doesn’t care, continuing to launch his rotund belly over the console. Much like me, I realize. Running toward danger instead of away from it.
“No.” Gently, I scruff him, bringing him back to my lap.
I don’t know what to do. I have no idea. The thoughts are paralyzing. But Princess is desperate in his attempt for food, and suddenly clarity falls over me. Princess is hungry, so I’ll go get Princess something to eat.
I get the car started, feeling more stupid and useless than I ever have in my life. I should know what to do, but I don’t. My best solution is a fast food hamburger, and like fuck is that going to save me.
But it’s all I can do.