Page 106 of Enemy
I grab the bead necklace and wink at him. “Now that we have these, nothing’s gonna happen to us anyway.”
Tension drips out of him as he chuckles, rubbing his face with one hand. “Uh-huh, let’s just go with that,” he says and then leans forward, looking through the windshield. The men riding bikes ahead make a series of hand gestures, and he settles back in the seat. “We’re stopping at the gas station.”
I know the drill and follow the motorcycles ahead of us without issue. The station is a small place half-way to my house from Vulture Hollow. Quite picturesque even, among the forest, by a quiet road. It has a little shop with camping equipment and food, which is convenient because I was thinking about getting a snack. I wouldn’t use my credit card, but I carry enough cash for basics, and no one took my wallet when I played dead.
Road gives my hand a firm squeeze, and I look up, meeting his brown gaze. Usually, I barely even remember he has scars, and a mangled tattoo around his eye, but I notice them now and feel an ache deep in my chest when I remember I was the one to cause them.
“We can come back for more stuff if it won’t all fit in the van today, hm? Think what you need most,” he says and pulls back, exiting the car.
He goes to talk to Prophet, who is putting gas in his tank, and I drift off to the shop with the eyes of a dozen men following my every move. Not only am I now a curiosity because of being Road’s fiancé, but they must also still view me as a threat. A wild card, a ticking time bomb that could destroy them from within like the one I set in their warehouse last year.
In the shop, I’m struck by the intense need to get something for Road. I know he’d get me a pebble from the bottom of a lake if I asked, but I still feel strange about not having much to offer. If we’re lucky, the Butchers may have been unable to open or take away thesafe in my house, so I might recover some cash. I didn’t tell Road, because I didn’t want him to get his hopes up.
For now, a selection of snacks is what I can get him, and since he has a weakness for meat, I drift toward the jerky sticks I’m seeing close by. One of the Vultures, Martin, is picking something out of the fridge too, his broad nose twitching as he compares two kinds of cheese, searching for something on the labels. I shouldn’t be so spooked about interacting with guys who from now on will bemy people, but I find myself relieved that he’s busy and might ignore me if I grab what I need and go.
No such fucking luck.
“You sure you’re in the right section?” Martin asks before picking at a bit of skin peeling on his pink face. Did this guy ever hear of sunscreen? Guess he’s following my uncle’s motto of“Creams are for pussies”. Real men fight off skin cancer with testosterone. Probably.
“Yep.” I grab the meaty snack, and walk off to the wall of sweets, but Martin follows me.
“These. You’ll like these,” he points to a packet of pink strawberry twist marshmallows boasting to now have50% more popping candy coating. With the edible glitter on them, they look like unicorn feed.
I sigh, not turning around. “And why would that be?”
“I thought guys like you liked pink. And they last a long time if you suck on them.”
Okay. So this is what we’re doing. I squeeze the packet of jerky sticks to avoid punching him. I’m outnumbered, they’re doing me a favor, I know I need to take a bit of shit in this hazing process. On the other hand, I can’t let anyone think they can treat me like a punching bag.
I turn to him and raise my eyebrows. “So you’re an expert on sucking now?”
He grins, showing off an even smile that seems too white in his rosy face. “I could be a judge at the porn Olympics.”
“With all this knowledge, you might as well take part,” I say in full seriousness. “How’s your gag reflex?”
His smile drops, as if I’ve pulled on the skin off his cheeks, and darkness clouds his eyes like the heavy smoke that might choke me if unleashed. He shoves me back, face twisting when he squares his shoulders, as if I’ve just stripped him of all dignity. “Do you want to choke on a gun? Is that it?”
I straighten, not even blinking as I stare him down. “Is this supposed to be a threat, or your idea of flirting? Should I tell Road about this?”
He scowls, but the brief stiffness that initially passed through his features tells me my threat did its job. I’m not happy about needing to hide behind Road either, but being in a precarious situation I am required to give up on a degree of pride.
“Pathetic. You’re gonna run crying to your man over a bit of teasing?” He gathers spit in his mouth, and I’m sure if we weren’t indoors, he’d release it.
Fuck what I’m required to do. Fuck being civil. And fuck Martin.
I punch him in the gut with the jerky still in my fist. I drop the packet when he pushes me at the wall of sweets so hard they fall all around me like a kid’s dream avalanche.
I already hear yelling from the other side of the store, but doing damage is my sole focus right now. I grab Martin’s top and pull him in for a headbutt.
The world shakes as I fall back, trying to make sense of the lamps and shelves around me. I barely have the time to protect myself when Martin dashes my way like a bull about to gore me, but a wet mop swings between us, spraying me with water. Martin makes the stupidest fucking face, pulling back his chin into his neck, as if he worried the water might be toxic, but then the elderly worker of the store pokes me in the chest, adjusting her thick glasses.
“Turner! You will not be doing that in my shop! Get out, both of you!”
I’m still dazed, and when she prods me out of the door, I fall over, embarrassing myself further. Martin is right behind me, still wiping his face, but at least he’s still standing.
“Both of you are banned for a month! Iwillremember!” the lady yells, supporting her weight on the mop as if it were a crutch. She’s only drawing more attention to this fiasco.
“What the hell’s going on?” Prophet shouts, and Martin responds before I can gather my thoughts.
