Page 33 of Twisted Lies

“Yes. Not in the mood for lines. I’ll be back soon,” I say with a smile, hoping she doesn’t question me anymore. She opens her mouth to speak but thankfully closes it. Making my escape, I walk slowly down the stairs as if nothing is amiss by passing the guards. Breathing a sigh of relief that no one is in the garage, I open the door behind my small red Honda and slide into the seat. I close my eyes for a moment, thankful I’m almost out. I’ll have to get rid of the car, but that’s easy enough.

“Going somewhere?” Kevin says, leaning from the dark backseat.

I scream. Not a small yelp but a full-on scream. My eyes shoot open, and I twist to look behind me. My hand goes to my chest to make sure my heart has not, in fact, jumped out. “What the hell?”

“I was testing out the feel of your car. Thinking of trading in.”

“You’re going to trade in your BMW for a Honda. Yeah, I bet,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I hope you didn’t sleep in the car. That suit does not look all that comfy,” I add. It seems all he wears is suits. I’ve only seen him in jeans on a few occasions. He always looks ready to walk into a board meeting.

“Where are you going?” he asks again, not bothering to respond to my barb.

“The store, Kevin. Is that okay?” I ask, hoping he gets the hell out of my car and buys it.

“Okay,” he says before climbing over my console and sitting in the passenger seat. He pulls on his seat belt as my mouth opens like a caught fish. What is he doing? “Let’s go.”

“Why are you coming? I don’t need company to go the store,” I say, annoyed. Why can’t he leave me alone?

“Because I want to go, and I might find something I need. Why do you care? Unless you aren’t going to the store? Is that the case?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Of course not. Simply a store run,” I say sweetly, both knowing I’m lying. Putting the car in reverse, I debate my next course of action. Turning up the music, I try to ignore the presence next to me.

Reaching the store, I park and get out, slamming the door. I’m pissed. Why the hell can’t he mind his own business and let me go? He can go back to his women. The thought of him with others makes my gut twist, but that means nothing. I didn’t eat much for dinner, and that’s why it hurts. Not at the thought of him with another woman. Practically stomping into the store, I pull a cart out,and start in, not bothering to check if he’s behind me.

“What are we looking for?” he asks behind my shoulder. I almost laugh at the looks we get from the other women in the store. They look him up and down as if they want to take him to the checkout line and use him for a day or a month. To his credit, he pays them no attention. He must be used to the attention by now. I feel out of place with him next to me. He draws way too much attention, and the last thing I need after last night is more attention.

“It’s food. Grab the food you want for the week,” I snap, knowing he’s grinning behind me.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“I did not,” I snap again. Trying to soften my tone, I try again. “I just wanted to make a quick trip, that’s all.”

“Hm. A trip to Canada maybe, but we both know the store was far from your mind.”

I abruptly stop. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

He steps in front of the cart. “I do. You woke up this morning planning your getaway. I know because that’s what I would do. That way, you don’t have to answer any questions. Did I miss something?” he asks.

Pushing the cart forward, I hit him with the end. He doesn’t budge. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hiss.

“I know a runner when I see one, and this morning, you were a runner.”

“I’m not doing this,” I spit, moving the cart to the side and around his body.

He says confidently, “It can wait. We have time.” Then he throws a bag of potatoes in the cart.

“Why do you always have to do that?” I ask, moving down the aisle quickly, throwing this and that in, not paying that much attention.

“Do what?”

“Just. Just…be you. Always expecting everyone to do what you say. It’s maddening.”

“Yes, I’ve always been that way. Just ask Mia,” he says, throwing a bag of chips in.

“Of course, you have.” I feel him grinning once more. If he thinks I’m going to talk, he’s got another think coming.

* * *

Kevin is quiet the rest of the time at the store. We get the shopping done quickly and load the car to head back. I can’t take the stress of waiting for him to ask. That’s why I snap two minutes out of the parking lot.

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