Page 81 of The Loathing

Three.

Four.

Five.

The car stops abruptly, making me fall forward, the case hitting the back of the seats.

“Shit, baby are you okay?” his voice fills the car as he opens the boot and quickly unzips the suitcase.

I squint for a moment before taking a deep inhale and taking Titus’ hand, the shock that consumes me makes my breath catch at the back of my throat.

“I’m fine,” my chest heaves as I gasp on the air that surrounds me.

“Okay, okay, quick baby, get in the car.” He helps me out, leading me into the car and shutting the passenger door. I inhale slowly, letting my eyes close for a moment and relief swarms me.

He kept his promise.

He is going to keep me safe.

My King.

We travel down the dark lanes, there is no lights so Titus drives slow on the unfamiliar roads. My eyes feel heavy, my breathes falling shorter as my body relaxes and I focus on the soft hum of country music that fills the car. I feel Titus’ large hand slip between my legs, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze. I let my head fall back onto the headrest then turn to look at him, a slow smile creeps onto his lips and as much as I try with all my might to stay awake, I can’t. I finally give in to sleep, my body falling heavy, and within seconds I am gone.

I wake, my eyes blurry as I try and sit up.

“Twilight,” I hear Titus’ quiet voice.

“Yeah” I nod, sitting upright and letting my eyes adjust.

“We’re here.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the headlights from Titus’ jeep lighting up the idyllic and picturesque cottage that sits on a little bank on the border of a forest.

“It’s pretty,” I yawn, blinking when I pat myself for my phone.

“I’ve switched it off, we have new phones in the house, and all set up but we can’t risk your father finding us otherwise this would have all been a waste of time,” he leans across the centre of the car, his hand cupping my cheek and he gives me a lazy smile. He looks exhausted. His eyes dark and hollow.

“You look tired.”

“I’m okay,” his smile grows, “come, let’s get inside.”

I nod, rolling my lips and unstrapping myself.

“This is only temporary… couple of weeks max.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” But before I can ask any more, he is out the car and at my side.

Stepping out, I look up at him. “Don’t ever make me get in a suitcase again,” and I hear him scoff a laugh.

“I promise,” he takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

“You are good at keeping promises.”

“Twilight, I will never break a promise to you.”

I swallow knowing that he can’t make that promise. Promises always get broken whether they mean to or not.

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