Page 118 of Dizzy

He mounts, drawing my arms around him.

I rest my cheek against his back and inhale the leather. “For a little longer,” I whisper and wind my arms around his waist. “I got you, too.”

* * *

We don’t get as faras Petty’s Mill. After about an hour, Dizzy pulls off at a motel near the Stonecut County line and gets us a room.

It’s a dump. It reeks of air conditioner and stale cigarettes.

Dizzy flips the dead bolt behind us.

I’m so numb, the surge of panic almost doesn’t register.

“Please unlock it.”

“Shit. I forgot.” He slides it open. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then we stand there, staring at each other.

Dizzy’s stance is wide, his chest rising and falling as if he’s run a marathon, his eyes burning.

I hug myself.

The heating unit sputters a few times and the fan cycles off.

It’s dead silent.

He explodes.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Fay-Lee?” he shouts, starting for me. I jerk away, and he growls, balling his fists and pacing the room. “You could’ve been killed! These guys aren’t jokes. They deal meth. Pills. Fuckin’ fentanyl. Women are dogs to them. Less than dogs. Jesus Christ! Did they touch you?”

My nose burns.

“Did they touch you?” His voice raises. “Did they make you do anything?”

“No!”

My answer doesn’t calm him at all. “Why did you run? I told you. I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you. Why didn’t you believe me?”

Hot tears dribble down my frozen cheeks.

I hate this. “Stop yelling at me,” I sob.

“Fuck.” He stops, his back to me, and tries to run his hands through his hair. It’s all knotted from the ride, though, so he gives up and stares at the water-stained ceiling.

I cry harder.

Now I wish he would start hollerin’ again. The silence is worse. My stomach aches.

“You wanna spank me?” I ask. “Would that make you less mad?”

“That’s not—” He exhales, but he turns back around. “We ain’t gonna do that now. That’s for play. Not for when we got to figure shit out.”

His face is bleak. What do we need to figure out? He came for me. He said he loves me. That means we’re together, right?

“What do you mean?” There’s a lump in my throat.

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