Page 79 of Pretend You Love Me
“Yeah, that’s a great book. One of my favorites.”
“Do you like sad music?” She leans her arms on the table, craning to be closer to me.
“Sad music?” I ask.
“Yeah. I read once that listening to sad songs makes you feel happier, and I can’t decide if I think that’s true or not.”
I cock my head to the side and consider this.
“I think it might.”
“I think it might too.”
Her mouth pulls up just slightly on one side, and then she resumes eating without another word.
I clean up from dinner and insist that she sit by the fire without helping. The bruise around her eye has darkened. It’s angry and swollen. She’s going to be sporting that shiner for a while.
“Stop staring at my injuries. You’re making me self-conscious.”
“I can’t help it.” I shake my head. “I just want to fix it.”
She smiles at me, but her eyes look sad. She stands up abruptly. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back soon.”
I lean back in my chair. It’s dark now other than the light from the fire and the twinkling lights. She’s only been gone less than a minute, but I miss her already. Fuck me. This is not going to end well. I hear something rustle in the bushes nearby. Blue pops his head up and bounds that direction. He disappears into the darkness.
“Blue?”
I’m wondering if he’s stumbled on a raccoon or, worse, a bear. I stand up and walk in that direction. Before I can step into the darkness, a bright spotlight shines right in my face.
What the hell?
I wince and hold my hands up to block the lights. I hear footsteps and shuffling and yelling. I'm so disoriented by the light.
“Hands up. Don’t move, or we’ll shoot.”
The fuck?
My eyes finally focus, and I see what looks like half of the Army pointing guns directly at me. I immediately raise my hands in the air. My brain cannot even begin to process what’s happening. I’m wondering if I’m dreaming or hallucinating. This cannot possibly be real.
Before I can speak or think or move, there are hands on me - strong ones. Pushing me up against the wall. They push me so hard it knocks the wind out of me.
Nope. Not a dream. This is definitely happening.
Four men start to come into focus. They are angry. No, this is an understatement; they look like they are about to murder me with their bare hands. I cut my eyes to the one with his forearm pressed against my neck, pinning me into place.
This can’t be possible.
I must have blacked out. I must be hallucinating.
I blink a few times. Sure enough, the President of the United States has me in a choke hold, and it looks like he’s about to tear me limb from limb.
“Where the hell is she?” he growls and presses his arm further into my neck.
Who? What is he talking about?I don’t think I could answer even if I wanted to; he’s basically cut off my air supply.
“We know she’s here.” Another one of them yells.
“Where is Brooklyn? We know she came here.” The President is right in my face.
