Slow Agony (12 page)

Silas chuckled. “Yeah, I knew you were pissed at him.”

“I’m not. Not really.” I peered out the window. “This is the way he is. I should know better than to expect him to be different.”

“What way is he?”

“He runs when things get tense,” I said. “He’s done it ever since I met him. I’m better off without him.”

“You probably are,” said Silas. “Near as I can tell, these relationship things only cause problems. First off, you’re weaker, because you’ve got one more person that your enemies can attack. Second off, you’re distracted, because you’re always thinking about the other person instead of yourself. And third off, everyone I know who’s in a relationship argues constantly.”

“Griffin and I are
not
in a relationship,” I said.

“Sure you’re not.”

I reached over and turned on the radio, blaring the music too loud for further conversation. Silas only snickered, shaking his head.

I opened the door to my motel room. It was one of those kinds that sat along the road in a big stretch. Like the Bates Motel from
Psycho
. Motels like that always gave me the creeps.

Silas was at the door. “You want to get a drink at the bar?” He pointed.

There was a building next door to the stretch of motel. It had a cactus-shaped sign that said, “The Oasis.” I chewed on my lip. “That’s a bar?”

“I think they serve food too,” he said. “Looks like a lot of greasy stuff and burgers. You game?”

I sighed. There weren’t many other options. And I was hungry. “Okay, sure.”

“Cool,” said Silas. “Here, um, take the key to my room too, just in case of anything weird happening. You give me one of yours.”

“Sure.” I shoved his key into my pocket and ducked back into my room to get one of my mine. My stomach growled.

Actually, my hunger was weird, now that I thought about it. I’d barely been thinking about food for months. Ever since Griffin left, I hadn’t been interested. Now, suddenly, I was starving. Maybe it was because he’d screwed me last night? Because we’d argued? Hell, maybe it was a coincidence.

I followed Silas across the parking lot to The Oasis. We went inside and were seated by a waitress with a bad dye job and braces. She must have been in high school. For the first few minutes, we were occupied with perusing the menu.

“Everything looks good,” I said. “Especially all the appetizers.”

“You’re right,” said Silas. “Let’s get them all.” He snapped the menu closed.

I giggled. “Seriously?”

“Of course seriously,” he said. “Life’s too short not to live large. I want every appetizer here, and so do you, so let’s do it.”

“I
am
hungry,” I said. “Really hungry.”

When the waitress came back, Silas ordered. It was fun to watch her reaction as she scribbled it all down. We also ordered margaritas—mine a fancy pomegranate kind, Silas’ normal.

The drinks came out first.

I felt like the tequila went directly to my head.

I felt looser and easier when the first of the appetizers came out. I stuffed loaded nachos in my mouth, chasing them with bacon cheddar potato skins, washing it all down with my margarita.

By the time the waitress brought the rest of our appetizers, I was ready for another drink. So was Silas.

“So,” he said, picking up a jalapeno popper, “you sure you don’t have anything you want to get off your chest?”

I sighed. “You mean about Griffin?”

“About whatever.” He licked his fingers. “Did you try the chili fries yet?”

I nodded, pushing the plate over to him.

He used his fork to scoop some onto his appetizer plate. “We should really get the waitress to bring us bigger plates.”

I laughed, sipping my delicious pomegranate concoction. “Did you know that cocktails were invented in the 1920s to mask the taste of nasty moonshine?”

He was chewing on his fries. He swallowed. “That can’t be true. They’ve had like gin and tonics forever in England, right?”

I shrugged. “I read it somewhere.”

He laughed. “Well, it must be true then.”

“It must.” I toyed with the straw in my drink. “I had an abortion.”

Silas set down his fork.

I took another drink of my margarita.

“Recently?”

I shook my head. “That’s why Griffin and I broke up. Months ago. See, at a New Year’s party, he saw me give one of my guy friends a hug. But he was convinced I kissed him. I don’t know why. Anyway, then he left. He disappeared for weeks. And I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know what happened to him. So... I took care of it. Then he came back. And when he found out, he was mad. Last night he told me I killed his child.”

Silas raised his eyebrows. “Wow.”

I bit into a mozzarella stick. I chewed and swallowed. “Sometimes I feel guilty about it. No, actually I don’t.”

“Okay,” said Silas.

“I don’t feel guilty about it, and I feel like maybe I
should
. So I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.”

He ate another jalapeno popper. “That’s a little convoluted.”

I drank some more of my margarita. “I know. I’m a crazy person.”

He dunked a mozzarella stick in tomato sauce. “You know, um, before Op Wraith got us, when my life was normal, I, uh... I took a girl to get one.”

“You did?”

“We were in high school,” he said. “It only made sense.”

I nodded. “That’s the thing. I’m not sure if what I did made sense. Griffin says I’m selfish, and maybe he’s right. And maybe the fact that I don’t feel guilty proves that.”

“I don’t think you should do that to yourself.”

“Do what?”

He snagged a nacho. “Beat yourself up. It’s not going to change what happened, you know.” He popped the nacho in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “I’ve actually killed people, you know. And not just with a gun from a safe distance. I’ve stabbed men to death. Up close and personal.”

I thought of the man in Op Wraith that I’d had to kill to free Griffin. It had been a long time ago, but I’d never forgotten how deep I’d had to cut into his neck, how much blood there had been. I suddenly wasn’t hungry. “I have too.”

“So,” he said. “How’d you feel? After the abortion? Did it feel at all the same?”

“Well, no, but... it’s
not
the same.”

“Exactly,” he said. “It’s not.”

“I’m only saying that—whatever I felt—it doesn’t mean that I didn’t actually kill something. Maybe I did. Griffin thinks so.”

Silas’ appetite hadn’t been affected by thinking about killing people. He was helping himself to more chili fries. “My high school girlfriend asked me that afterwards. She asked me if she thought we were murderers. I told her that I didn’t think so. And anyway, it almost doesn’t matter, right?”

“Doesn’t matter?”

“Like I said, I actually killed people,” he said. “And after you do something like that, you have to live with yourself, right?”

I nodded. “You tell yourself you had to do it.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Because it’s done, and if you let it get to you, then it will destroy you. You have to move forward past this.”

He was right. It almost didn’t matter. It was over. I couldn’t change it. The best thing that I could do now was to make sure I could live with it, even if that meant I never got Griffin back. My appetite returned a little. I reached for a jalapeno popper. “You and that girl in high school? Is the abortion why you broke up or did you stay together afterwards?”

“No, it’s probably why we broke up,” said Silas, draining his margarita.

Three drinks later, Silas and I had moved from the booth to the actual bar, which was tucked in the back room of the restaurant. I was talking to some guy I’d just met about my extensive knowledge of cocktails in the 1920s. Which, um, wasn’t that extensive, but he seemed interested. Maybe he was as drunk as I was. I wasn’t sure.

Silas came over to me, hand-in-hand with some girl. She was gorgeous, wearing a tiny shirt that showed off her flat stomach, and she was giggling. He grinned at me. “I’m going back to the hotel. You coming?”

The girl hit him. “Hey! I didn’t agree to anything like that. I’m not into girls.”

“No, no, no,” he said. “She’s just my friend. She has her own room.”

I guess Sloane was right. Silas really was a manwhore. “I’ll stay here for a little bit.”

“Cool,” he said. “I promise this won’t take longer than an hour.” He turned to the girl. “You know you’re not staying the night or anything, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m definitely an asshole,” said Silas. “That’s why you like me.” He tugged her after him, and they disappeared out of the bar.

I turned back to say something else about speakeasies, but the guy I’d been talking to had moved on to talk to someone else. Fine. I sat down on a stool, rested my elbows on the bar and sipped at my drink.

Time passed.

After a while, it became apparent that I wasn’t going to find anyone else to talk to, and I decided I would go back to my room. I motioned for the bartender. Even though Silas and I were paying with cash, they had to ring everything up on one ticket, so I couldn’t pay as I went. I waited to get my bill, leaning against the bar.

Two hands slapped down on the bar next to me. “Hello, piglet.”

My heart caught in my throat. I knew that voice. It was Greasy Hair, or Wolfman, or whatever he liked to be called. I raised my gaze to make sure.

The bartender returned with my check.

“I’ve got that,” said Wolfman, snatching it from the bartender.

The bartender shrugged and sauntered away.

“I’m going to scream,” I said.

“You won’t,” said Wolfman. “Not yet. Because if you do, I’ll shoot everyone in this bar, and you’ll have to watch.” He grinned at me. “And then I’ll do all kinds of nasty things to you. Until you’re
begging
me to shoot you too.”

I swallowed.

Wolfman threw several bills on the bar. He grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go.”

I let him drag me out of the restaurant, my heart pounding. What was he going to do to me? He’d said before that he wasn’t allowed to play with me yet. Was he allowed now? And what did that mean?

“I didn’t think you’d be away from Griffin,” he said. “I’m not allowed to see Griffin. Not yet. But if you’re alone, I get to come visit.”

“What are you going to do to me?” My mouth was dry.

He giggled. “This little piggy had roast beef,” he murmured into my ear.

I shivered away from the touch of his lips on my skin.

“This little piggy had none.” His fingers moved on my arm, pulling my hand against him. “You want beef, right, piglet?”

I shrank from him, going cold all over. This couldn’t be happening.

“Take me to your room.”

Silas had given me the key to his room. I need to get to Silas. I nodded, swallowing. “Okay.” And I started to walk.

He came with me, still clutching my arm. “Wee, wee, wee, wee all the way home.”

He was disgusting. He was crazy. He was going to hurt me.

As we approached Silas’ room, I wanted to give him a heads up, so I tried to talk loudly, hoping Silas would hear us, and know something was wrong. “So, you’re forcing me to go somewhere with you so that you can hurt me?” I nearly shouted.

“Keep your voice down, piglet.”

“What are you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me?”

“Shut up,” he growled.

I stopped in front of the door. “Well, this is the room. We’re going to go inside there now,” I said as loudly as I could. I pulled the key out of my pocket.

Wolfman grabbed it from me. “I’ll open the door if you don’t mind.”

I couldn’t stop him, could I? Maybe I could get the attention of people in the parking lot, but they’d be no help against this guy. He was psychotic. I didn’t have any weapons, which was beginning to look like a really stupid, careless mistake. If we got out of this alive, Silas was so giving me a gun and that was all there was to it.

Pulling me in front of him, Wolfman inserted the key inside the door.

“You’re opening the door,” I called out.
Please hear me, Silas. Please.

“Shut
up
.”

The door swung inwards. It was dark inside. I couldn’t see anything as Wolfman propelled me inside.

Silas and the girl were only dark shapes on the bed, but Wolfman saw them. He turned to me, seizing by the neck and pushing me up against the wall. “There’s someone in here.”

“Silas,” I managed. “Help.”

Wolfman slammed my head into the wall. “Naughty piglet.”

The impact sent shocks of sharp pain through my skull. He was
strong.

Silas was yanking the girl he was with off the bed. I could hear his voice. “Stay down, you understand me?”

Wolfman knocked my head once more. “Very naughty.”

I felt dizzy, like I might lose consciousness. I couldn’t move or speak. I could hardly breathe.

“What’s going on?” the girl was yelling, panicked.

“Stay the fuck
down
.”

Wolfman let go of me. I gasped for air as I slid down the wall, my hand at my throat.

Wolfman flipped on the light.

Silas was behind the bed, buttoning his jeans. He wasn’t wearing anything else.

Wolfman reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He slid the blade up and snapped it into place. It was only about three inches long, but it was sharp. It glinted.

I struggled to my feet. I launched myself into Wolfman, knocking him off balance.

He and I both went down, a tangle of limbs.

In the background, the girl was screaming.

Wolfman tossed me off him like I was nothing but rags. I collided with the wooden entertainment center in the room, my back glancing painfully against it. I cried out.

“Leigh, I got this,” Silas said. He was heading for his gun. I could see it lying on the bedside table. It was black and solid and comforting.

Wolfman was back on his feet, moving across the room to intercept Silas.

Silas feinted, still reaching out for his gun.

Wolfman anticipated the feint. He grabbed Silas.

Silas’ fingers brushed the gun.

Wolfman’s arms wrapped around him. His knife flashed.