I slide a glance to my right as I pull off the state highway and onto a bumpier road marked with a wooden sign announcing some state park. This isn’t a planned stop, but I don’t have four more hours of driving in me to get to my next destination. And if I don’t make day two, I’m not making day three, or day four, or day five, and justdammit.
Daphne pops a gummy bear into her mouth. “You sure you don’t want one? That protein bar you had this morning wasn’t a lot of food.”
We’re maybe forty minutes past the ValuKart, and she’s been suspiciously quiet the entire time. Like she took me seriously when I told her to shut up. “No eating in the car.”
She grins at me and pops another gummy bear into her mouth. “Won’t find food in a state park either, and if you eat outside of the car, the bears will smell it and come and eat us.”
“Bears don’t eat humans in this part of the country.”
“Sometimes they do.”
“Rarely.” Fuck me, I need a nap. A nap, and a drink, and a steak.
And then a solid night of sleep.
Or maybe a solid month of sleep.
“Do you have another secret cabin in this park, or are you looking for something?” Daphne asks.
I ignore her.
“Are we meeting one of your friends?”
“I don’t have friends.”
“None? None at all?”
I haveafriend. One that I trust with my life, and one that I’m due to check in with tonight to verify that I’ve survived on my own this long.
One that I probably could have called to handle the Daphne problem, but that didn’t occur to me until right now, and it turns out, she might be useful, even if I hate that.
Everyone else that I’ve ever considered a friend?
They either dropped me as soon as my father was convicted, or they slowly fell away when I didn’t have time for drinks after work anymore.
I don’t trust other executives because I didn’t know who was honestly being nice versus who was being cordial to get secretsout of me or who was hoping I’d fall flat on my face so they could take my job or even the company.
So what I truly have is paranoia.
All of it. I have all of the paranoia to ever exist in the entire universe.
I spot a parking lot that’s relatively empty and pull in at the far end.
My shoulders relax as I shift the car into park.
My breath eases out.
My head drops back.
My eyelids droop.
And Daphne crinkles another goddamn bag.
Then crunches.
Loudly.
“Tired?” she says.
