Page 26 of The Vipers' Vow

We're only on the freeway for around twenty minutes before she takes a turn to the left, and we wind up long country roads. The scenery is beautiful, and I zone out, my mind flicking from subject to subject. I think about Lex and hope he's okay. I can't imagine how difficult it must be for him to be separated from all of us, while being kept captive by that madman. We should have done something sooner about the rumor about us circulating around the college, but I think maybe in some dark way we kind of liked it. It gave us the air of danger that meant people stayed away from us. Or maybe that's just my perspective, and Saint and Lex would vehemently disagree.

After being on the road for what feels like a couple of hours, my ass and legs are starting to feel numb. Vani must be feeling the same way, because when a gas station appears on the horizon, she indicates and pulls off the road. We climb off the bike, and I watch as she stretches, while at the same time unfastening her helmet and lifting it from her head, shaking her thick hair free. She could be a girl in a rock video right now.

God, she really is gorgeous. Not just sexy, but beautiful too. There's a wildness to her that calls to the feral side within me.

“I need the restroom,” she says. “And a drink. Do you want any snacks or a drink?”

I take out my phone to type, and she waits patiently. She’s never shown me a moment of frustration around my struggle to communicate, never once laughed or taken the piss out of me like some might, even in jest. I love that about her. She’s just accepted who I am, one hundred percent.

My thumbs fly across the screen and then I show it to her.I’ll grab us something to eat. Any preferences?

“A bag of chips and a Coke would be great” she says, and then adds, “Diet.”

I frown.You don’t need to diet. I admonish her.

She giggles. “I just like the taste, Zane.”

I study her for a moment and nod, accepting her explanation. As she walks away and I peel off to the right, I think back to how those fuckers picked on her at the college because of her weight. I should have crushed the life out of them for doing so.

Hands flexing and unflexing as I imagine strangling those preppy bastards, I enter the gas station. It’s one of those places that reminds me of old nineties movies. It’s like it’s been frozen in time. There’s the sunglasses stand with the mirrored lenses all lined up. The snacks, the cooler, buzzing and gurgling as if it’s got a bad case of indigestion.

The woman behind the counter looks as old as the place itself. She’s doing a puzzle or a crossword or something, and only glances at me briefly. Her eyes take me in, then she simply goes back to what she’s doing. It’s a refreshing change. People normally stare at me as if I’m a serial killer.

I grab drinks and a bag of chips for Vani, and a breakfast sandwich for myself, which I toss into the microwave that’s available. After I’ve paid, I wonder if we need gas. I head outside to see Vani coming from the restroom. I stride over to her and ask her if she wants me to fill the bike up, writing it out on my phone and showing it to her.

“Yeah, but let’s eat first.” Beyond us, a little to the right, are a few benches, looking out over the lonely stretch of road and to the fields beyond.Want to sit?I message.

“Sure, that would be good.”

We eat in silence. I can tell she’s troubled, but, in my experience, people will talk if you give them space. She twists her Coke can in her hands and blurts, “I hope Lex is doing okay.”

I place my arm around her shoulders and my chin on her head, and nod against her scalp.

She lets out a deep sigh. “I know we’re doing this for him, but I still feel guilty, taking off.”

I take my phone out and write,Lex is tough, and you have something Jarl wants. He’ll be okay.

She gives a tiny smile. “He’s tougher than Saint. Imagine if they’d taken the other twin. I don’t think Saint would have fared well without a fresh change of clothes.”

I find myself smiling, but I’m not sure I agree about the tough part. Saint is borderline psychotic, and that comes with a strange kind of strength of its own.

I kiss the top of her head then unwind my arm from her shoulder so I can use both hands to type.

How can I win your father over?

She reads the message and bursts out laughing. “Oh, I don’t think you can. Just pray he doesn’t kill you with his bare hands.”

I stare at her for a long beat, and she laughs some more. “Don’t worry, pretty baby. I’ll protect you.”

I scowl and write,pretty baby????

She giggles. “You know, facially, you kind of are. You’re huge and all inked up, but your face is… beautiful.”

I touch my jaw as if pondering what she’s said. Am I? I know women like me because I’m intimidating and big, but I’ve never thought as to whether I’m handsome. Then, because it makes me paranoid, and without really thinking about it, I stroke my fingers over the scar at my throat.

Her eyes soften, and she gently touches my wrist, stilling my movement. “Scars are sexy on big, bad men,” she says. She isn’t smiling now; she’s serious. “And anything that’s part of you will always be sexy to me, Zane.”

Her cheeks flush and she dips her head. I want to ask her if she really thinks that, but I don’t. I chicken out and look away, too.

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