Page 22 of Nine

I stare down at the bloody circle on the white fabric.

“Good. Maybe I’ll bleed to death and finally rid myself from having to deal with you.”

“Lift your shirt up,” he demands.

I cross my arms and stand there.

“Lift the shirt,” he says again. This time with more bass in his voice.

I exhale, turn to my side, and lift the shirt up for him.

“No busted stitches. You’ll live.”

“Damn. I was already preparing a eulogy in my head for you to read at my funeral. Oh, wait. You’d probably just bury me here in the dirt or toss my body in that lake, right?”

He looks at me unamused.

“You? No. That car of yours, yes. Do you have anything in the car you want, before we drive it into the lake?”

My mouth falls open.

“My Benz? You can’t be serious. Is this payback?”

“Do you want something out of the car? Yes or no?” he snaps.

“There’s a bag in the trunk. It has my clothes and shoes inside of it.”

Trig leaves me standing there as he walks back to the car. He returns a few seconds later with my black gym bag. He waves for me to go inside.

“I call dibs on the room upstairs,” Bones yells out as he walks in.

Trig looks at me. “I guess we get the bottom room.”

“We?” I protest.

Trig wags his eyebrows once, and points ahead for me to walk. I groan and march forward.

“This is us,” he says, as we reach a door. “Open it.”

I turn the knob and push against the weight of the door. As soon as my eyes set sight inside, I’m blown away. The room is beautiful. It has that woodsy touch all around, from the wood bed frame, to the chairs and table, to the couch. Every accent in here gives me that wholesome nature feel. I walk over to the sliding glass door. There’s a small patio outside that overlooks the lake, and if it weren’t for circumstances, I would have flipped my shit at how amazing this place is. Instead, I keep cool. I drop my bag on the floor.

“I’m not keeping you hostage,” Trig says. I remain quiet as I keep my back to him and look out over the water. “Can you please just stay here? I don’t want to chase you, but I will if it means that I keep you safe.”

I turn to him. “Why?”

He squints at me. “Why keep you safe? Is that what you’re asking?” He runs his hand over his shaved head as if he’s frustrated.

“No. I mean, why save me at all. You could have shot me in the hotel room and saved yourself all this chaos. You could have shot me in that damn basement. You know what? You could have let The Savior kill me. Why save me?”

“If you were me and you saw what I saw in that hotel room, you’d save yourself, too.”

“Well, if you were me, you’d know that nobody in this world has ever done anything for me, unless they wanted something. What do you want, Trig?”

“I don’t want anything,” he responds.

“Really? Everybody wants something,” I say.

I take off his T-shirt that I’m wearing and throw it across the room. I point to my body.

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