Page 39 of Sever
I look around and see Connor, about to pull out of the lot. I wave to him and he turns around and drives over, rolling down his window as he pulls up next to me. “Hey.”
“Think I could take you up on that ride after all?”
He leans over and opens the door from the inside. “Of course. Hop on in.”
“Thanks so much. I drove through some construction roads today and I must have run over a nail. I live on the corner of Cramer and Green Street.”
We pull out of the lot and I relax against the seat.
As the trees flick past the car, I glance over at Connor. He’s quiet; even more so than usual. The radio isn’t on, which makes the silence in the car all the more consuming.
“So how has everything been while I’ve been gone?”
“Lonely.”
Something about his voice makes me uncomfortable. It’s darker; more solemn.
Fear escalates inside of me. I don’t know what exactly is going on but the air in the car changes quickly, making me long for the simple silence of five minutes ago. Connor’s hands grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. I lean forward slowly, trying to reach for my purse, hoping to grab my phone.
Connor reaches over, grabbing my purse and flinging it into the back seat.
“Not a good idea, Megan!”
He opens his center console and reaches in, the sunlight catching on the heavy metal, making me wince and blink. When I open my eyes I see it properly, and my blood runs cold.
“You and I are going to go for a little ride. We’re going to fix everything that youbroke.”
My hands grip the seat beneath me as his hand rests on the center console, the gun bouncing around with every bump and pothole in the road. I keep my eyes forward, trying to even out my breathing.
Stay calm.
Just keep him talking.
“Maybe we can talk and figure this out, Connor. Why don't—”
“Don’t call me that!”
The car swerves and all around us horns blare. I glance at him as he runs his hand through his hair and I see the tremble. He looks over at me. His eyes are near black and his skin has taken on a gray pallor, a lock of his disheveled hair falling over his eyes. “Don’t call me that ever again.”
“Isn’t that your name?”
The car swerves violently again and I look up just in time to see the sign for the highway. I have no clue where he might be taking me, but it’s in the opposite direction to home. I think about the message I left for Ryder. Could he be trying to contact me?
He hasn’t answered my question, but pure instinct tells me not to risk repeating myself.
Ten minutes pass before the car turns off the highway. As we drive through the neighborhood, realization sets in. The familiar tree-lined streets. The old post office. The broken gate to the playing fields that still hasn’t been fixed.
The car comes to a stop in front of my old house. I look over at him.
“What are we doing here? Who are you?”
He lifts the gun, training it on my head. “You will get out of this car and walk up that path as if nothing is wrong. If you try to yell for help or alert anyone, I’ll shoot, and from this distance I won’t fucking miss.” His lips curl and there’s humor in his voice when he adds, “Understand?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Go.”
Getting out of the car my legs feel weak, almost as if they won’t hold up the weight of my body. I stumble out of the car, gripping the doorframe, my hands following the curves of the hood, using it to keep myself upright until I step up onto the sidewalk.
