If anyone could use that kind of escape from reality, it was Vienna.
She was already sitting with her knees to her chest, one of the books open in her hands, when Raff came back with breakfast. His gaze slid to her, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw her enjoying the books.
“Should edit the map to include a bookstore or two,” he decided, voice low enough for only me to hear as I took the tray of coffees. “We don’t have one in Shady Valley.”
“We got credit cards and access to every online retailer.”
To that, Raff’s face screwed up. “You don’t get the book girls, man.”
“And you do?”
“I think when you fuck enough of them, you start to absorb some of it,” he said, making me roll my eyes. “They love to go to the bookstores, man. Something about the smells, they say. They want to browse the shelves and hem and haw shit. Then leave with a pile they can’t wait to dive into.”
“How many book girls have you fucked?” I asked, shaking my head at him.
“The book girls are where it’s at, man,” he claimed as he reached into the bag to hand me an aluminum foil wrapped bagel. “Didn’t know your bagel preference, sweet girl, so I got you plain with egg and cheese. Figure that’s something everyone likes. Got the coffee how you like, though,” he said as she used a thinner book to bookmark her bigger one, and reached for the coffee.
“Thank you,” she said, shooting him a ghost of a smile, but I noticed she didn’t make eye contact while she did so.
Raff rolled with it, opening his breakfast sandwich, and getting started eating. “I figure you drive the first leg today,” he said. “This route has the most turns and shit, and we both know I’m the better map reader.”
That was… fair. Even if my ego didn’t love admitting that.
“Vienna, love, do you want to ride shotgun, or sprawl out in the backseat?” he asked, making Vienna look up, her mouth stuffed with bites of the food.
I knew I should probably caution her to ease her stomach back into full and consistent meals, but after having seen her bones sticking out of her skin, I couldn’t really bring myself to say those words.
“Back,” she said around a mouth full.
“Smart choice,” Raff decided. “I could bring some luggage out of the trunk to put in the footboards and make a makeshift bed,” he offered, getting a nod from Vienna who was busy taking another big bite of her bagel. “I fueled up the car, so we can get moving as soon as we’re checked out,” he told me.
“Good. I’d like to get at least ten hours in today,” I said, thinking that it would be good for Vienna to be settled somewhere safe. For her mental health. Because she was safe as she could possibly be while around us. But to start, you know, recovering and shit, I thought she needed to feel comfortable and protected from the outside world.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Raff said, nodding.
Or, at least, that was what we thought as we got on the road.
Vienna made a nest in the backseat using her blankets and stuffed animal. She was nestled with both of her sweats on as well as her wearable blanket draped over the legs she had stretched across the backseat.
Two of her books were resting on her legs like they were a security blanket as well. The third was open in her hands, and she was clearly lost in a fictional world as we drove into Colorado, then up toward Wyoming to avoid a big touristy area in Colorado.
“Vienna,” I called softly a few hours later, making her jolt, looking unfocused for a second.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to stretch your legs and hit the restroom?” I asked, gesturing toward the rest stop we were parked at.
Raff had already taken off, wanting to walk around for a bit.
“Oh, okay,” she said, using her book to mark her other book again, making me wish there was a rest stop nearby that actually had some stores. Hell, this one didn’t even have a fucking vending machine or gas station.
All it had to offer was a small building with bathrooms, a dumping spot for RVs, parking, and a small booth where you could rent binoculars because this rest area had a view of roaming bison.
“These might not be the best bathrooms,” I warned her as she climbed out of the backseat, wiggling some life back into her legs for a moment before falling into step with me.
“Believe me, I’m not picky,” she said, making me think of the makeshift facilities she’d had in the shed with her.
“They’re individual rooms,” I said, knocking on the door, then going inside to look around for her before leaving her inside, rushing into the next room myself, and getting back out before she did.