It's not good for anything without bullets.
No. But I hope I won’t have to pull the damn thing anyway and what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.
I reach in for the box of tampons, ready to shove them in my pocket as another layer of disguise. The box rattles as I lift it and I pull up the lid, smiling at the ready-loaded magazine nestled inside.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Almost there,” I say, a note of panic in my voice. I sit on the toilet seat, holding the pistol and trying to work out how to load it.
I push the open end of the magazine into the empty slot and press. The first time it catches, and I take it out, staring at the inside again to figure out the blockage. It’s the angle. I try again, pressing it towards the back of the slot this time before applying force. It rams home with a click, and I pull the slide back.
My entire knowledge of firearms is from TV shows. I don’t know if that’s enough. I don’t know if there’s a safety catch or if the bullet is in the chamber or if I’m about to shoot a hole in myself as I stick the gun down the back of my sweatpants and stand, shifting from side to side to test the weight.
If the stranger finds out I’m armed, he’ll probably kill me.
“Save me a job,” I mutter, flushing the toilet and wiping around the seat with some paper before flushing it again.
I wash my face in the sink, startled when the man opens the door and stares straight at me. “You good?”
I nod, picking up the handtowel to dry my face, then leaving it folded on the side of the sink.
“Why isn’t Caylon coming back?”
The man waves me outside then locks the door with a key hooked onto a ring with a dozen others.
“Did he send you?”
He unlocks the car with a fob and holds open the front passenger side door, checking I have my seatbelt on before he moves around to take the driver’s side.
“Is he alright?”
“I’m not going to answer your questions,” the man replies in his low rumble while pulling into the road. He leans over to open the glove box, taking out a bottle of water, and a pack of mentos. “Here. Try these.”
He straightens again, concentrating as he passes through a set of traffic lights, then glancing over to me. “There’s also a pack of aspirin in there if you need it.”
“I’m good.” I swallow some water gingerly, then chew on a mint. The rush of nausea distracts me from the feeling of sitting on the hard metal. The barrel is caught at an angle beneath me, and I’m scared every time the car jolts, it’s about to fire into my leg.
We drive for ten minutes, the suburbs steadily improving, until he pulls into a driveway and coasts into the underground garage. While the door trundles closed behind us, he gets out and opens my door before I have the chance.
I thrust the remaining half of the water and mints into his hands to stop him ‘helping’ me out of the car and maybe feeling something he shouldn’t. I’m too nervous of being discovered to rearrange the gun, and it feels far too loose as we walk inside the house.
“Finish that water and have another,” he instructs, pulling a jug from the fridge and pouring out a glass that looks to hold about twice as much as usual.
Although I’m already shivering from the first bottle of cold water, I follow his instructions, wincing as the temperature of the liquid sets my teeth on edge.
“You’ve taken a pregnancy test before?”
I stare at the man and my stomach feels like it’s sinking down to my toes. “What for? No. I’m not pregnant.”
He nods and unwraps a package, setting the test on the counter. “Once you’re ready, take that and follow these instructions.” He taps the side of the box. “When you’ve finished, bring it out here while we wait for the result.”
“I’m not—”
“The bathroom is through here.” He strides past, opening the door into a spotless room of gleaming white. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a room so clean. “If you need more water to get things going, help yourself to what’s in the fridge.”
He sits on a stool at the bench, obviously expecting me to follow through while he waits. I scratch at the marks on my neck, scabbing and itchy.
“Once you’ve taken the test, I’ll call a doctor to examine your throat.”
