Page 11 of Fractured Fates
“Half an hour,” he says, and, pushing Pip gently away, I dart into the house, gasping when I see the mess. I peer over my shoulder accusingly at the man.
“You get a kick out of rummaging through a young woman’s things?”
“It wasn’t me,” he says, with indignation in his tone.
“Sure,” I mutter, racing up the stairs and into my room. I pull clothes from the wardrobe and stuff them into my bag, along with a pair of sneakers. I run my fingers over the row of books on my shelf and the trinkets I’ve discovered out in the forest. My heart hangs heavy. It’s like leaving another set of old friends behind yet again and my chest pangs.
This home has been one of many over the years. But one in which I was safe up until four days ago. I’ve been loved and cared for here. Will I ever find a home like this again? Will I ever be loved like that again?
“Are you done?” the man in black calls from downstairs and with my hand on the handle, I take one last look around my room, and close the door.
He meets me at the bottom of the stairs, handing me a cracker spread with peanut butter.
“Eat it,” he commands, and I try my best not to stuff the entire thing in my mouth at once. When I’ve demolished the first, he hands me two more and I follow him into the living room.
Pip’s laid out across the sofa, unmoving.
I gasp and a sudden anger thunders through my veins.
“What the fuck did you–”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. He’s only out cold. You think I’m transporting a live pig all the way back to Los Magicos?”
Rushing towards my pet, I run my palm down his body; panic, indignation and rage turning the food in my belly sour.
Warm.
And he’s snoring softly.
I sigh in relief, my tense shoulders sagging. I don’t say it, but I can see the man’s logic. There’s no way Pip would consent to be carried or would sit primly on the backseat of a car.
“You should have talked to me first before putting him under,” I grumble, turning back to the man in black and taking another chomp of cracker.
“We can leave him behind if you’d prefer,” he growls and I decide to change the subject.
“How are we traveling to Los Magicos?”
“On my bike.”
“Your bike. Both of us? I can take mine.”
He shakes his head. “That piece of shit won’t make it all the way back to Los Magicos.”
“Oh, and yours will?”
He snorts, picks up my pig, and strides out the door. I’ve no choice but to follow him again, especially when he’s pignapped Pip.
He whistles and an engine roars into life from behind the house, then a bike comes zipping around the building and skids to a stop in front of him. It’s sleek and shiny and looks as if it was made yesterday.
I can’t help but reach out and touch it, gliding my hand over the soft leather of the seat. I’ve never seen a bike like it.
“Can I try it?” I ask, unable to hide my eagerness as my palm hovers above the handle.
“No. I’m driving.”
I’m about to argue when we hear the far off whine of another engine and both our gazes lift to the forest. I glance towards him, wondering how we’re going to handle another ambush. I can’t fight like the man in black can. And I no longer have my knife.
“It’s okay,” he says, opening a box on the back of the bike and laying Pip inside. “It’s my friend.”
