I nudge the chair slowly along the floor, using the front of my thigh. There’s a definite burn in my stomach when I’m done, but it gives me a larger sense of satisfaction.
I turn on the television for the first time, keeping the volume low enough that I’ll be able to hear if anyone comes to the door. I’m not really interested in what’s on, since I’m waiting for the five o’clock news to see if there are updates I should be aware of.
Hours later, the latch on the door whines, and I plaster myself to the wall on the far side of the room. When they try to open the door and meet resistance, I hear, “What the hell?”
I’m pretty sure it’s the same voice from earlier.
“Move if you’re in front of the door,” he warns, and then the chair goes sliding, allowing No Neck to stick his torso into the room.
“Where’s Winger?” I hate that the question comes from me.
“He isn’t here.” No Neck extends another fast-food bag into the room, as if he expects me to come get it. I don’t move, so he shrugs his massive shoulders and tosses the thing on the chair he sent halfway across the floor.
He turns like he might leave, but then he steps into the doorway again. “I don’t think you want me to chuck these at you.” He holds open his meaty palm, which holds three red capsules. “Cheryl said you need to take these, or you might get an infection.”
Cheryl, that was the doctor lady. I take a few steps closer, unsure if it’s just a ploy, but I know if he really wanted to get to me, there’s nothing stopping him.
“You’re supposed to take three a day, but I forgot to give them to you this morning. Don’t die, or Winger would be pissed,” he tells me, as if we’re friends and I’m not a being held here against my will.
I cup my palm under his hand, and he drops them. I step back, creating more distance while keeping my eyes on him.
“You need more water or anything?” He looks behind me.
“No.” I shake my head. I want him to leave. I can refill the bottles from the tap anyway if I’m thirsty.
“Okay, you good then?” He has the door handle palmed as if he’s ready to close it.
“Unless you’d let me leave?”
He cracks a wide smile, making his neck look even thicker with the way his head goes back as he chortles. “Nah, the boss doesn’t ask for much, but when he does, you listen. I won’t be letting you leave.” The way he acts like we’re chummy is so bizarre.
He pulls the door closed right after, and the scraping of metal tells me he’s locking me in. I nudge the chair over to the door again. Even though it didn’t prove to be very effective at keeping anyone out, it still gives me a warning that they are coming in.
The bag holds another burger, a chicken sandwich, and cold fries. I munch on the food, taking my time, then swallow one of the pills. I have no idea if it’s really an antibiotic, but it looks like one, and there’s a little code on the side like a real pill from the pharmacy.
I leave the TV on, bored out of my mind, and eventually fall asleep.
WINGER
Masher’s big ass is asleep on the couch when I enter the apartment. It’s later than I’d hoped, but since I already put Saddle off a day, I needed to talk with him about the club, and there was other shit that had to be handled, like talking to Rex.
He was at home, so I met him at the farm, and Lucy insisted I stay for dinner. Even after all this time, I’m still not used to seeing him so…at ease and relaxed. It makes me wonder how different we both could have been if we’d had normal parents.
I came clean about Maxine and told him about her following me, what happened in the parking lot, and everything after. He wasn’t as pissed as I thought he was going to be. I’m sure it helps I already have her, and he knows I’m planning on getting the answers we need.
Lucy, however, was concerned. She even offered to let me stay with them, since she doesn’t think I should be staying at home, much to Rex’s dismay. Letting him sweat it out when I pretended to entertain the idea was more amusing than it should have been.
The one area I didn’t share much about is Maxine’s past. It feels wrong for some reason I don’t quite understand, and Lucy doesn’t need to know about that kind of shit. If Rex has questions, he knows he can talk to Iron, and I don’t doubt that he will.
I kick the bottom of Masher’s foot.
He sucks in a deep breath and sits up. “I wasn’t snoring, baby.”
“Go home,” I tell him, ignoring his immediate defense.
“Shit, sorry.” He scrubs his hand over his face and drops his feet heavily to the floor.
“Any problems?”
