Why would I?
What do the Bastards have to offer?
More uncertainty and turmoil.
I push against the bar on the door and find myself walking out to my car. Unbelievably, the door is unlocked. I fall into the seat, finding the keys in the ignition.
I could drive away.
There is a chance he might follow, but I have to try, don’t I?
I start the engine, look back at the building, and no one comes out to stop me.
The little duck digs into my palm as I watch a jogger run in front of my car. He stops, running in place as he waits for a truck to pass him. The driver waves, and he waves back. It reminds me of the place I just left. People seem friendly around here. It feels right.
It always feels right until my past catches up to me.
My fingers tense in protest as I turn off the car. The same thing happens with my legs when I force them to walk back inside the Cage.
The irony is not lost on me. A little bird, willingly flying back into her cage.
I sit down behind the counter, waiting for whatever comes next. When I swivel the chair toward the front door, I notice the cameras that monitor each room. My gaze stops on the one I was just in. Rage is standing with his phone in his hand, but his eyes are on the camera in the corner … on me.
It makes me swallow hard. Was this a test?
“Hey,” Prospect says from behind me.
I yelp, jumping from the chair. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” I accuse, backing away from him.
He holds his hands up. “I wasn’t trying to scare you. Honest. I’m just as surprised to see you as you are me. I thought you and Rage would have taken off by now.”
My eyes follow him as he walks over and locks the door. He notices me eyeing him warily. “Don’t worry, you can still getout, but nobody’s coming in. Are you guys going to the Trough tonight?” he asks.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I say, rounding the counter opposite him.
He doesn’t pay me any attention as he starts clicking off the lights. I move to the front door, deciding to wait for Rage there.
“So, where are you from?” Prospect continues to try to make small talk with me.
“Um, well, a lot of places, but most recently Colorado.”
“Cool. Cool. Me too. Do you miss it?” he asks.
Rage walks into the room before I can answer. He heads in my direction, stopping directly in front of me. Without removing his eyes from mine, he takes my car keys from my hand. He throws them behind him without looking.
Prospect juggles to catch them but manages to keep them from landing on the floor.
“Take her car out to the Trough,” he tells him, taking me by my arm and guiding me out the door. He leads me over to his bike.
“I’ll just walk to the Inn. It’s such a beautiful evening,” I tell him, looking around and hugging myself.
He holds a helmet out for me to take, but I can’t bring myself to grab it.
“I don’t care if you ride with or without it, but I feel I should inform you before you decide against it.” He clicks around on his phone for a few seconds before holding it up to my face.
I glance at the photo he’s showing me and immediately look away. “Oh my god,” I breathe out, holding my chest.
“That’s what happens when your head hits the pavement at sixty-five with no helmet. Like I said, it’s not mandatory …”