"And?"
"You’re not supposed to swear," she replies with conviction.
I’d laugh if this whole situation wasn’t so goddamn fucked up. "Why not?"
"Because you… well… you?—"
"Swearing won’t do any harm to anybody," I interrupt her stammer. "Quite the opposite. It feels good." I take a last deep drag from my cigarette before I stub it out in the ashtray. "You should try it. Sayshit. Orfuck. You’ll see that nothing’s going to happen. It won’t rain blood. Trust me."
Sophie’s eyes widen even more before she narrows them and tilts her head. "Are you making fun of me right now?"
Oh bloody fucking hell…
"What if I was?"
She lifts her chin defiantly. "That would not be nice."
The laughter that erupts from my throat is short and joyless. "Oh, little darling… If there’s one thing I’m not, it’snice."
"But you’re not a serial killer, either. And you took me with you." She makes it sound as if those were clear indicators that I was certainly a nice person. And as if she could read me perfectly.
"Because… Are you for real? God damn!" Again, I run my hands through my hair in frustration. "What was I supposed to do? Push you out of the car? Let your mother tear me apart? I may not be a serial killer. And yes, I took you with me. But that doesnotmake me a nice guy. Remember that. And now put your fucking seat belt on." I sit up straight again and start the engine.
As the seconds pass by and I don’t hear theclickof the seat belt, I turn my head reluctantly.
Sophie’s holding the belt in her hands, but she’s pulling on the wrong side.
What the…?
I huff in frustration before leaning over the middle console and grabbing the belt to pull it over her body. Sophie stiffens andholds her breath as my fingers graze her hip. She smells of herbs. Is it eucalyptus? I’m not quite sure, but it’s a very pure scent. I can’t recall anyone near me ever smelling like that.
When I lift my gaze, she looks at me with wide eyes. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know…"
"It’s okay," I reply with a slightly softer voice because I believe that she actually has no idea how to buckle up, and that fact means so much more that I now feel kind of sorry for her.
"Cole?"
"Yeah?" I tear my gaze away from her lips. How did it even land there? And how long have I been staring at them?
"Where are we going?"
I pull back to look ahead and put the gearshift into D before driving off. "Weare not going anywhere. I’ll take you to the next bus station, and then we will part ways."
I sure as hell won’t play the caretaker for her. However, I don’t have the heart to throw her out in the middle of nowhere. But even though every decent citizen would probably take her to the next police station, that’s the last thing I’ll do. I’m not a decent citizen. Besides, I hate cops and stay away from them as much as I can.
A softokayis her only response, and I’m almost surprised. I would have expected her to protest or name a place she wants to go to after all, but no.
We drive in silence while I ask myself why she wanted to leave her mother so badly that she threw herself in the vehicle of a stranger. That’snot normal, for fuck’s sake.
When I glance at her, she’s sitting a little straighter again and is watching the greenery rush past outside the window.
"How far is the next bus station?" she asks after several minutes of sweet silence.
"Around twenty miles." I ignore the snide voice in my head that tells me how stupid it is to drive that far for some stray girl.
"Where does the bus go from there?"
"Thebuses. There are many departing from there." To my own surprise, I now sound calm and almost patient. "They drive everywhere. You just have to think of a place you want to go to."
