Page 19 of Glamour and Grit

“Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make it obvious that you don’t believe me?”

“You mean, you want me to pretend that I don’t know you’re lying?” She blinks several times and shrugs. “Is that what you’re asking?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then what are you asking me? Because I know you weren’t just concentrating on your driving. You had a thought, it was damn unpleasant, and you don’t want to tell me what it was. Just tell me that you don’t want to tell me what I want you to tell me.”

I almost miss my turn because she has me so confused.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about–this is it.”

We pull onto a gravel road, low-hanging branches thumping off the roof. Rocks pop under the tires as we slowly roll up to a cyclonic fence with rusted razor wire running across the top of its ten-foot height.

“This looks like a gulag.”

“It’s secure.”

It takes me a minute to get the lock undone. It’s gotten rusty and I need a few squirts of WD40 to get it loose. Selene watches with amusement as I quickly drive the truck through the gate and then rush to close it behind us.

“Nobody followed us, right? What are you worried about?”

“Bears.”

Her eyes go wide.

“Holy shit, for real?”

“And mountain lions, and who knows what else? Stay put, I’m going to do a sweep of the compound.”

“Compound? You’re calling two storage units converted into housing and a…is that a food truck? You’re calling this a compound?”

“It’s mine, I’ll call it whatever I want.” I cock an eyebrow at her. “I’ll call it the poopoo palace if I damn well please.”

She laughs, a high-pitched sound that should be annoying but it isn’t. Her face glows when she laughs. It’s like she exults in being able to express herself.

I sweep the compound, and find it undisturbed since the last time I’d been through. It’s stupid, but I check for explosives and booby traps just to be safe. When I return to the truck, I don’t bother getting into the cab. I simply reach in through the open door and turn off the engine.

“It’s safe. And the food truck is because I don’t have a kitchen in the house.”

“Good. Go fire it up and make me some dinner, Chef Dane.”

“I take it that you’re hungry?”

“Yeah, we didn’t stay at my place long enough to eat.”

She turns and regards the barbed wire fence, and her smile fades.

“I guess I’m stuck living behind fences and barbed wire from now on.”

“It’s not forever. Just until I get something figured out.”

She rounds on me, putting her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have a plan?”

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