Page 60 of Up In Smoke

She aimed her eyes straight ahead, but her brain checked out all the various landmarks ahead. Ivy was scanning the area for large trees, a telephone pole, something she could aim for from her seat. But the road was relatively devoid of anything but young saplings. The ditches that allowed for runoff along the side of the road hindered a lot of her possibilities … but …

One of the driveways up to a farmhouse had a stone bridge that crossed the ditch. If she could dip the car nose down right in front of that she could crash them into the base of the bridge.

That would do it.

“Oh, no, you don't.” Carlos seemed to know what she was thinking as he reached over and popped her seatbelt out. She couldn't help it as her eyes flew wide.

“Now, if you crash us, you’re going to kill yourself. Think twice before you do that, Ivy.” His tone was chiding and sickening. He was going to kill her anyway. Maybe it was better to take her chances with the accident, seatbelt or not.

Reaching frantically for the seatbelt as is reeled itself back up, she grabbed it and tugged, only to be thwarted by the auto-locking mechanism. It took three tries to calm herself down enough to get the stupid seatbelt to unfurl, but as she felt the relief of getting it across herself again and she moved to click it into place, Carlos took the gum he'd been chewing and stuck it down into the slot.

“Sorry,” he said, his tone clear that he wasn't.

Now she couldn't buckle herself in. She couldn't run them into the ditch.

“What do you think?” He grinned as he tipped the wheel back and forth on the deserted road, knocking her almost across the center console into him and then changing directions and smacking her against the door. “Better hope the locks hold or that I don't have to hit the brakes.”

He was laughing.

She wished to God she had a fucking pen. She'd drive it through his neck, but that would now crash the car.

Carlos had effectively made himself safe from any overture she might make. She was stuck here with him until he at least stopped the car. There were no moves she could play.

She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. Ivy took stock.

Luke had no idea where she was. He would only worry when he decided that it was far too late for her to not be home. But, like his job, sometimes hers didn't end right on time. So she had no idea how late that would be.

The dash clock glowed in the dark. 6:43

Even if Carlos was lying, Luke wouldn't even begin to wonder if she was late until seven or seven thirty. And that was only if he remembered that tonight was an early closing night and if he was awake.

She didn't know who she'd sent the last text to or even if she'd managed to slide her way around the keyboard enough to actually write “it's Carlos” or to hit “send.”

Jo, like Luke, was probably still sleeping off their overly long shift.

As Ivy watched, Carlos pulled up in front of a small house. It had once been blue. The roof sagged in on one side, and ironically, the porch sagged on the other. Putting the car in park, he turned to look at her, his smile almost demonic.

“We’re here!”

Chapter Forty-Four

Luke woke up groggy, the sky already dark around the edges of the window. He’d missed the entire daylight except for the little he’d caught this morning on his drive home. He rolled over and looked at the clock—7 p.m.—and he blinked.

Grabbing his phone, he shot a quick text to Ivy.

— See you in a little bit.

He could make dinner for her when she got home. But she might have already eaten at the library.

— Have you eaten?

Obviously, she was closing tonight. His brain still wasn’t making fully linear thoughts. Maybe he could pick up dinner.

Though Ivy had been lamenting eating too much fast food lately, he didn’t have time to put something in the crock pot. While Luke was no chef, he could make a few things. So he rolled himself out of bed and tried to figure out what he might be able to do with what was on hand.

In nothing but his underwear, he rummaged through the fridge and the cabinets, his heart twisting at the sight of three beers sitting in the corner of Ivy’s fridge.They were his. He bought some of the groceries here, and though they slept at his apartment occasionally, he’d nearly abandoned it. He’d even come here to sleep though she wouldn’t be home.

Was that because he wanted the arsonist to see his car in her driveway or because this was where he really wanted to be?

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