Page 132 of On a Fault Line

“You are obsessed.”

“Not obsessed.”

She fixes a piece of flyaway hair. “You could have fooled me. How would you describe it?”

“Hmm…concentrated information gathering.”

“You are giving me buyer’s remorse.”

I eye her. “Is that so?”

“Is it too late to alter the contract?”

“How so?” I humor her.

“I want to add my exit strategy for when your overprotective tendencies become unbearable. Like they are now.”

“No deal.”

* * *

“Why are you so upset?” I ask, as Penny stirs in silence in the passenger seat.

I’m used to her telling me everything on her mind. I usually have a running commentary of just what she thinks of me and my methods, but right now? Nothing.

Silence.

And I’m about to lose my mind.

Then she places a hand between her thighs, removes the vibrator, and tosses it into the back seat.

But still, nothing. Not even a grunt.

“Talk to me, Pen.”

Rotating away from me in her seat, she stares out the window, clearly avoiding me at all costs. Even her knees are pointing away.

After several long minutes, I decide to pull off the road. I’ve had enough of her not telling me what’s upset her.

I cut the engine and open the sunroof to allow in fresh air. The tinted windows allow for some privacy. Luckily, the night air has cooled down a considerable amount.

From the distance, the echoing sound of fireworks fills the space, coupled with Penny’s sniffles. Does she have a cold? What’s going on?

When I turn to fully look at her, I can see the tears rolling down her face.

Fuck.

I hit the button on the side of my seat to send it backward to allow me more space between the steering wheel and my body.

“Penny?”

“Leave me alone.”

She angrily wipes at her eyes as if she’s pissed she is crying in the first place.

I unlock myself and then her from our seat belts, and nudge her toward me.

“Come here, Princess.”

---