Threat (12 page)

My mouth is parched and my lips are dry, but I ignore
it.
Just as I grab one of the cinder blocks and proceed to drag it
towards the wall, Leah calls.

“
Threat!
Threat!” I hear her holler.

I drop
it and run back around the front, which I know I'll regret later.

“
Look!”
She says the second I get there, pointing down the road.

I almost
have to squint to see it but in the distance there's definitely a car
coming around the bend.

“
It's
one car.”

“
They
might help us.”

I shake
my head. “People don't help people any more.” And you
can't blame them; too many whack jobs.

“
We
have to try. Maybe they have a phone.”

“
We
have phones,” I remind her, raising mien up out of my pocket.
“If ours don't work, neither does anyoneelse's.”

She
slumps her shoulders—she is so damn red I think she might pass
out any second. And I'm starting to worry.

“
Please,
can we please just try,” she pouts.

I mumble
something and then say, “It doesn't hurt to try.”

“
Thank
you.”

I turn
back around towards the back of the building. “Where are you
going?” Leah asks but I don't answer her. When I emerge a few
seconds later I'm holding one of the plastic chairs.

“
Sit,”
I command her.

She
takes one look at it and turns up her nose. “I am not sitting
own on that?”

“
Sit
the fuck down, Leah. You're going to hurt yourself.”

“
I'm
wearing shorts!”

“
Fucking-a,”
I call out as I rip my shirt off and throw it over seat. “Better?”
I ask.

Her eyes
fall to my sweat covered abdomen. “Better.”

She
still perches herself on the edge of the chair, like she's some
delicate ass princess.

She
turns back around towards me. “What about you?”

“
Don't
worry about me.”

It takes
a good five minutes or more for the car to make it down the road and
anywhere near us. They might be our last hope and I'm sure as hell
not going to let it pass us by. Like a complete idiot, I plant myself
in the middle of the street, waving my arms as it approaches. The car
is actually a pretty old truck, and I'm shocked it's made it out here
this far.

Good
God, please stop.

The car
is going fairly slow anyways, and comes to a halt just a few yards in
front of me. I could practically kiss the hood, that's how happy I
am.

I make
my way around to the drivers side and Leah runs up beside me. There's
a man who looks to be about middle aged at the helm and he winds down
his window.

“
You
kids okay out here?” he asks, peering down at my half naked
body. A half naked, tattooed man in the middle of the street isn't
going to ensure much confidence, I realize.

I shake
my head, wiping away even more sweat. “No,” I pant. I'm
laying it on kind of thick, but like I said, people don't help each
other anymore. I slip my arm around Leah and pull her tight to my
side. “My wife and I are stranded out here.”

Leah
shoots daggers at me.

“
Well
what happened?” the man asks, his concern shifting.

I point
down the road. “Bike broke down about three miles back.”

His
eyes round. “
Three
miles?
You two kids walked that far in this heat?”

I nod.
“Yes sir, we did. Can't even get a real signal on our phone and
we're too far out for AAA. You're the only car we've seen come down
this way. We were wondering if you could kindly help us out?”

“
Of
course! It's no problem at all, come around and hop in the passenger
seat here.”

In like
Flynn.

Leah
looks impressed as we head around the truck. I wink at her.

The
truck looks just as bad on the inside as the outside—old, worn
out seats and food wrappers littering the floor. But to me, it might
as well be a palace. We slide in and the man hands us a water bottle.

“
I've
only got one extra, but maybe you two can share?”

He might
as well be holding out a bar of solid gold.

I flash
him a wide smile. “We really appreciate that, sir!” I
take the bottle and open it for Leah, letting her take the first sip.

“
So
where were you two kids coming from?”

“
Vegas.
We just got hitched.”

He
chuckles, shaking his head as he smacks his gum. “I swear, you
kids get married younger and younger every day.”

I look
down at Leah with a grin, holding her close and tucked under my arm
again. She simply bites her tongue. “Yeah well, we kinda had
to, if you know what I mean.” I pat Leah's tummy and I swear
she looks like she wants to kill me. I stifle the urge to laugh.

The
driver glances away from the road and then flashes a knowing smile.
“Oh, the old shot gun wedding!”

I
chuckle. “Yeah, exactly.”

“
Well
congrats to you two, babies are a wonderful thing! I have a couple
kids of my own—I'd show you but I can't exactly reach my wallet
right now.”

The man
continues on, making small talk about his family as we make our way
into town. Leah is the quietest I've ever heard her be. She doesn’t
make a sound the whole ride, snuggling into my side with her head
resting against my shoulder. Her eyes flutter closed, her pouty
little lips continuing to move in her sleep.

I feel
like shit for insisting we take the bike, even though I'd never admit
it to her. That was a stupid fucking move on my part, and if we
hadn't found help when we did, I'm not sure how much longer she
would've held out.

I
have to force those thoughts out of my mind. I pull her even closer
to me. She's safe. A
nd
as long as she's with me, she'll remain so, whether she realizes it
or not.

But
what if I'm the one who hurts her?

LEAH

After spending a grueling hour walking through the desert, a nice man
in a pick up came and drove us into town. I don't remember much about
the car ride, except the part where Threat insinuated I was carrying
his child. On any other occasion, I would have strangled him on the
spot for patting my stomach like that but I didn't have the energy.
He woke me softly when we got to our destination.

We were able to get a tow truck to drive out and retrieve Threat's
bike. Only problem is, it won't be done until sometime tomorrow, so
who knows how long we'll be stuck on the border between Utah and
Nevada? Thankfully, our hotel isn't too far so we rent a car and haul
our stuff there for the night. The place isn't exactly five
stars—it's hella shady to tell the truth, but after a day like
today I can't bring myself to complain. I stop dead in the doorway of
our room hotel the minute the door swings open and I get a look
inside. The first thing I notice is the absence of something very
important.

Okay, maybe I
can
find something to complain about.

“Are you kidding me right now?” I remark.

“Why, what's wrong?” he says as he carelessly brushes
past me and into the room. Threat throws his bag down and flops on to
the bed. The
only
bed in the room.

I cross my arms and wait impatiently, to see how long it takes for
him to notice. And if he doesn't, that means he planned this for
sure. Or am I just being overly paranoid?

He looks at me and then snaps his finger. “Oh, my bad, you were
expecting the Hilton.”

“No,” I reply with an agitated huff. “You really
don't see what's missing from this room.”

He sits up and looks around. “There's no coffee maker?”

I point to the small black contraption sitting atop the mini fridge
in the corner. “It's right there,” I reply, dragging out
each syllable.

“Awesome. I bet you get cranky as hell in the morning without
your coffee.”

“There's no bed, doofus!”

He looks down and bounces on the mattress. “Pretty sure there
is.”

“I mean there's only
one
bed. It's missing a bed!”

He shrugs. “Is that a problem?”

“It's not a problem if you plan on sleeping in the bath tub!”

“We're both adults here. I can take one side,” he says as
he scoots to the other end of the bed. He pats the spot beside him
and adds, “And you can take the other.”

“No.”

“Fine, if you don't like that, you can take the middle, and I
can take the top.”

“Can you go more than five minutes without turning a serious
conversation into an innuendo?”

He shakes his head. “Hmm. No, I don’t think I can.”

“Just get us another room, Threat.”

“Can't, they're booked and they only have queens available.”

I cock my head to the side, calling his bluff. “Bullshit.”

“And what incentive do I have to lie to you about this?”

“Getting me in bed so you can molest me again.”

“Now who's the cocky one, sis? You seem to think every man is
in love with
you
.”

I crash my face into my palm. “Believe me, that's the last
thing I think. Look, I just need some space and some privacy.”

Threat hops up off the bed and tears the comforter off it. “If
it makes you feel better, we can do this,” he says. He takes a
sheet, twists it, and lays it down the middle. “Boom. Two
beds.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh.

“It’s the best I can do, okay? Besides we'll be here for,
what,” he glances down at his phone, “Twelve—fourteen
hours max, and most of that time we'll spend asleep.”

“Fine,” I reply with a groan. I move in to the room and
throw my stuff down on the chair. No point in unpacking for such a
short stay, so I rummage through my things instead, grabbing my
leisure clothes and bag full of toiletries. After all of that time
spent in the hot desert sun, I'm a sweaty mess. I can practically
feel the dirt caked on my feet. A nice, long and hot shower is
exactly what I need right now, and at least I can get some semblance
of privacy in the bathroom.

“I'm jumping in the shower. Do not disturb,” I announce.

“Fine by me,” Threat replies. “I'm going to find
something to eat. What do you want?”

I shrug. “Anything but Chinese is fine with me.”

“Mmkay, but don't complain if you don’t like it.”

*

The water feels amazing. I'm not sure if a shower has ever felt so
good, or will again. I stand under it for a good ten minutes before
lathering up, letting the water pressure massage my back, and
watching all the dirt and grime from the day spiral around the drain
before flushing out. For such a shitty little motel, I have to say,
they get an easy five stars for their shower head.

I'm pretty sure I spend about an hour in the bathroom. I start to
feel a bit guilty, knowing that Threat is probably back, and just as
sweaty and tired as I am. I try to remind myself of how much of an
asshole he's been to feel better about it. Much to my surprise, when
I emerge from the bathroom, he still hasn't returned.

Having the room to myself is exactly what I need. I turn on the TV
and flip through endless stations of comedy reruns, sports highlights
and dramas I’ve never seen. I finally rest on HBO, which is
showing some unfamiliar movie, and I keep it on for background noise.
I grab my phone instead, checking my email and surfing the internet.
As much as I needed to relax, this all feels like a waste of time. I
could be doing something, there are a million things I should be
studying for or reading. Why the hell did I leave all my coursework
at home? I knew that was a bad idea.

I don’t realize quite how hungry I am until Threat walks back
in the door. When you're hot and dehydrated, it's difficult to have
an appetite. But the second I smell food I could practically pounce
on it.

“Miss me?” he says as he saunters in through the door.

“I missed the food more,” I say as I reach for the bag.

He stands by the edge of the bed and pulls it away from me. “What
do you say?”

Nope, I am not playing this game. Not now. “I say give me the
fucking bag of food.”