Koa.
He doesn’t speak. Just unties me quickly, efficiently, and hauls me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
“Koa, what—”
“Quiet.”
He carries me out of the woods. I don’t fight. Just hang over his shoulder, watching the ground pass beneath me in the dim light.
When we reach the car, he throws me into the passenger seat. Not gently.
Then he gets in, starts the engine, and drives off.
I sit feeling small next to him. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. He appears to be mad.
At me? At whoever he met? At the situation?
“Are you going to tell me what the hell that was?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“What the fuck was that, Koa?”
“It’s better if we just not talk.”
“I swear to fucking god—”
He ignores me. Keeps speeding, going thirty over the limit, weaving through traffic.
We pull up to the trailer park eventually.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I cross my arms. “I want to go home and shower and get as far away from you as I can.”
He parks in front of the same trailer as before. “Come on.”
“No.”
He sighs, frustration bleeding through. “I’m going to explain everything to you once we’re inside. Come on.”
I stare at him. At the hard set of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders.
I uncross my arms and step out of the car.
An eerie feeling takes over as I watch him approach the front door. My gut is screaming at me not to trust him. To leave. To run. Protect myself.
But when he turns around and looks at me, I follow him inside.
Before I can even sit, his phone rings.
I glare at him as he answers.
A man’s voice comes through—loud, angry. I can’t make out the words.
Koa puts up a finger at me and walks outside, closing the door behind him.
I sit on the couch and wait.
Five minutes. Then ten.
