Page 36 of On a Fault Line

And in this moment, nothing more.

Collins scans the street around us, as if he’s looking for some monster to jump out of the huge flowerpots decorating the store front. We walk inside together, and instantly I feel his body tense beside me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, genuinely concerned when I look up into his eyes.

“Grab something fast and let’s go.”

He’s serious.

What the hell is going on? It’s like déjà vu all over again. “Do you not like this cafe?”

“Get some fucking food, and we are leaving, Penelope.Now.”

I swallow hard, feeling my own temper stirring deep in my belly.

Glancing at the already made sandwiches, I grab one and drop it onto the counter. When I reach for my purse, Collins already has it covered.

He grabs my hand and pulls me from the shop, causing me to accidentally bump into another patron on the way out. I don’t even have a chance to apologize, as he ushers me into the passenger seat and locks me inside.

He hovers outside the vehicle, and I watch as he snatches his cell from his pocket and animatedly talks to the recipient on the other end.

Something is wrong, and the more I try to figure out what is going on in Collins’s head, the easier it is for me to be confused.

When he enters the driver’s seat, he glances my way. “Put on your belt.”

“Oh,” I mutter. Looking down, I see that I forgot to secure it.

Collins snaps his on and then pulls out onto the street, resuming his premeditated vow of silence.

I just wish that he cared as much about my mental health as he does my physical health. All of the hot and cold mood swings are messing with my head.

Taking my sandwich from the brown paper bag, I peel back the wrapper and am bombarded by the smell of mustard and the sight of sprouts.

Yuck.

Double whammy.

I take a nibble at the corner that doesn’t seem to have any of the nasties on it, but the scent is so intense that I can’t stomach eating it, especially with it being my first food of the day. Wrapping it back up, I shove the sandwich back into the bag and inwardly grumble over the waste of a trip there.

This isn’t my day…

Weaving through the city, Collins gets us to Graham and Angie’s with relative ease, parking us in the garage in one of my brother’s reserved spots.

“Thanks for the ride,” I mumble, as I exit the car despite Collins’s look of disapproval.

Oh, he’s really in a mood.

I follow him over to the elevators like an obedient servant and toss my uneaten sandwich right into the trash can that is nearby.

An uneasy feeling creeps up my throat, and I just pray it’s not foreshadowing of how the rest of the day will go.

Everything just seems off. And the trip to the cafe is only making everything worse.

“What happened back at the cafe, Collins?”

“Nothing.”

I turn to face him. “You are lying to me, dammit.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “The same thing happened before when we tried to eat there, and you are giving me the same silent treatment as you did then.”

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