Page 32 of Hold Me Down
“Ash, what the hell are you talking about?” Carter asks again, but I ignore him. I remain in a staring contest with Victoria, with neither of us daring to look away. There’s a doubt in her eyes, one that’s almost afraid, and I only know that she’s decided what to do by the way she clenches her jaw.
“Let me get my shoes.” She reluctantly walks away, probably knowing she doesn’t have much of a choice.
“What are you hiding?” Carter asks me.
“There’s something possibly inside that old building, and I need to make sure it either isn’t there or destroyed before I burn the place down,” I tell Carter and slip my other shoe on.
“What is it?”
“It’s personal, Carter.”
“I’m helping you sneak out, the least you can do is be honest with me.”
“Iambeing honest. Please, just trust me.”
Victoria quickly but quietly makes her way down the stairs, still in her pajamas.
“If Damien catches us, he’s going to think this is my fault,” she whispers.
“That would ruin your little friendship, now wouldn’t it?” I snap back at her, and I hate that a part of me feels bad for it. A puff of regret flies out of my mouth, and I have to look away from her. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go.”
I stand up and throw my black hoodie on, knowing that I need to stay as concealed as possible. It’s a little snug, but it's going to have to do. She follows me out to the garage, and my irritation grows when I notice Alex’s car parked behind the Traverse, disappointed that I didn’t think of that.
“Shit,” I whisper, already walking over to the key hooks. “Okay, here. You move Alex’s car out of the way, and then when we get back, we’ll put them back the way they were. We shouldn’t be gone for very long.” I throw the keys to Victoria and pocket my key fob. She catches them, but then looks down at the set like it’ll bite her.
“I’m not sure you want me doing that,” she warns.
“Well, as long as you don’t try to leave or run me over, I think we can work together for an hour.”
“No, I…” She hesitates. “I don’t know how to drive,” she admits quietly, and I stop in my tracks. How does she not know how to drive? I learned to do that in high school—which she didn’t go to… If she was barely allowed to leave the house, I’m sure not teaching her to drive was another way to control her. Even if she managed to defy him, how could she get away?
That really upsets me, and I’m pissed that I’m angry about it. I shouldn’t care about her or what she’s been through. Why do I care if she knows how to drive? She’snotour problem, but the more I tell myself that, the more bitter it tastes. Ihateit.
I storm up to her and swipe the keys from her hand, not wanting to look at her anymore. Thankfully, the door doesn’t slam as I walk out to move Alex’s car, and I take a second to breathe before I get in.
“Damn, that’s kind of sad,” Carter says in my ear.
“Don’t start, please,” I beg and back the car up.
“She really doesn’t seem to be all that bad. She’s definitely tough.”
“Seriously, Carter. Enough. I don’t want to think of her in any other way than I already do. Don’t tell me you're starting to feel bad for one of Damien’s captors.”
“Of course not.”
“Then drop it.” I get out of Alex’s car and walk back inside the garage. The cooler temperatures and breeze outside should feel good, but it doesn't. All I can feel is my anger, and it's heating me from my core. I don't want to feel bad for her. I don't want to accept her situation. There's only one way I want to see her, and it's as the enemy.
But once my eyes land on her again, part of that hatred goes right back out the door. Her arms are crossed and she's standing there awkwardly. There's a tautness to her stance, like she's trying to appear mad and standoffish, but then there's the defeat in her eyes, telling me she's secretly embarrassed or sad. Her wild appearance clearly hides a lot, but I haven't been open to figuring that out.
I get into the Traverse without a second glance, and she just follows, not even having to be told. She's obedient, even when she shouldn't be, and her silence only makes me feel worse. Her eyes don't wander as I back out, and they still don't survey the area as we leave the front gate. I remember feeling caged like that, how I would do whatever I knew either my parents or Cooper wanted me to do before they even said it, just so there wasn’t a chance they would hurt me.
“You really weren't lying…were you?” I ask hesitantly.
“No…but it doesn't really matter.”
“Maybe it does.” I focus back on the road, driving with one hand on my stomach.
“You’re such a softie,” Carter chimes in through the coms again.
