Page 24 of Carter

Something was wrong.

Something had happened.

Blocks away from the trailer park, we slowed down in front of a motel. The Vacancy sign wasn’t on, so I wasn’t sure why Carter had turned in.

“Wh-where are we going?” I asked him through chattering teeth. “D-do you have a room?”

My questions were answered when we began moving through the parking lot. He went to every old car and tried opening them.

Oh, my God, he was going to steal a car, wasn’t he? He was officially going to become a thief and I was going to be his dumb-as-a-knob accomplice.

Immediately I began to panic. I turned my face toward the motel, waiting for signs of someone watching us.

“Carter, no,” I told him with a strain in my voice. “Please, no!”

He didn’t listen. He found an unlocked sedan and opened it. He unlocked the backseat and pushed me inside with him. My heart was racing and the fear of being discovered had me pulling away from him.

“Leah, don’t,” he ordered.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and forced me on the seat. He shut the door behind us, and we both sat there in the dark, drenched, cold, and panting. To say it was miserable was a severe understatement. We were beyond that word at the moment.

“I’m not stealing the car,” he then told me quickly. “Just sleeping in it for tonight.”

My eyes bulged out of my bed. “Sleeping in it? Are you insane?”

“Would you rather sleep out there in the rain?”

“I’d rather be sleeping in my bed!”

“Why? So guys could come and go in there as they please?”

I didn’t say anything; he had a point there.

I brought my legs up to my chest and stared out the window. The streets were completely deserted, the wind tore through the rain, slamming sheets of it against anything in its path. Including the car. This was completely surreal. I wondered if I’d have time to go back home and slip through the window and nobody would know about any of this.

“Lay down,” Carter told me.

What choice did I have? The guy was going to get his way whether I liked it or not, and it wasn’t as though I could escape him because a) he was strong as hell and I was a weed, and b) I was going to die of hyperthermia if I went out there for another minute.

The seats were only small, and they smelled like smoke. Laying down was a mission, but I managed it. We were both on our sides, his legs bent to accommodate his length. He spooned me against his chest, holding me tight across the waist. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and the space was a little claustrophobic, but it beat being out in that storm.

I sighed and shut my eyes. “This is insane.”

It really was.

It was surreal and scary, and I felt like I was dreaming.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he just held me tighter to him. I couldn’t understand any of his behaviour. It wasn’t like him to touch me like this. To hold me at all. He hugged me every now and again, sure, but he was very careful to keep a distance. What changed all that? Why was he holding me like I was the only thing in his life that mattered? I was so confused.

“You didn’t have to take me,” I told him quietly, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of me. Whoever owned the car was a fan of zebra print. It was absolutely everywhere, and I began to wonder if the car owner was just as disturbing as their taste in interior car design.

When Carter didn’t answer once more, I made the uncomfortable choice of turning around to face him. He let me turn, his hand sliding down a little so that it rested just above my bum. Despite my soaked hoodie, his touch felt warm. I stared into his guarded blue eyes and waited for him to speak. His silence was a little out of the norm.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” I asked him.

He shook his head slightly. “Not right now.”

“Is it bad?”

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