Page 112
Story: Five Fingers of Death
I didn’t want to admit how much he had helped me back then. Getting me out of my comfort zone had been a huge feat.
“Did everything go okay on your job?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror at his daughter, his face turning stony. I had the feeling I had overstepped somehow. “It was fine.”
I was quiet the rest of the way into town. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to open my mouth again and ruin the night with stupid questions. However, Carli sat in the back and filled the silence by talking about her favorite flavors of ice cream, ranging from the absolute best to the yuckiest, as she put it.
When we pulled up to the curb, I was about to get out when I remembered Jason’s words before we left about someone trying to kill anyone relating to OPS, and I froze. It hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal before, but that was when we were on the property. Now, we were in town—away from the gates and the security. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants, trying to force myself to calm down, but everywhere I looked, it was like someone was watching me.
Then the door was jerked open and Jason was standing there with Carli in his arms. He held out his hand, nodding slightly to me. “It’s okay.”
It’s okay. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Besides, his daughter is with him. He wouldn’t bring her out if he thought there was someone around.
Slowly, I put my hand in his and slid out of the truck. My eyes immediately locked on his, knowing that as long as I could see them, I would be okay. I didn’t know why, but they steadied me.
The door shut and I took a long breath, steeling myself. I could do this. It was just ice cream. There was no one out there. Jason would keep me safe.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
I nodded and walked with him down the sidewalk to the little ice cream shop. There were two windows outside for ordering and pickup, with a large board between them listing the menu. The sheer amount of options was overwhelming. Half of them, I didn’t even recognize. I vaguely remembered trying a blizzard once, but I mostly stuck with cones.
“Which one are you gonna get?” Carli asked.
“I—” I stared at the board, trying to decide, but there were just too many items listed. My heart started racing at the endless possibilities. Everything was available in multiple flavors, sizes, and types of cones. Not to mention cups versus bowls.
I stepped back, feeling like the world was closing in on me. I rubbed my hands on my jeans over and over again, but nothing would stop the itch that was building. Then I felt a hand on my lower back, steadying me when I felt like I would fall over.
“Three chocolate cones,” Jason said, taking over, ordering for all of us.
I zoned out as he finished the order. I didn’t hear what size they were or how much they cost. I concentrated on slowing my breathing so I didn’t freak out his daughter. I glanced up for just a moment, and immediately ducked my head. She was staring at me, her eyes pulled down in concern.
“Daddy, what’s wrong with Izzy?”
“Nothing, baby.”
“She looks sad.”
I still couldn’t look up. God, even a four-year-old could tell there was something wrong with me.
“Does she? Hmm. Maybe she needs a hug. What do you think?”
“I think she does,” she whispered.
“Okay, but you have to ask her first. We never just hug people without asking first.”
“I hug you all the time.”
“That’s different. I’m your daddy. Some people might not be comfortable with hugs.”
God, I wanted to flee. He was having a conversation with his daughter about me as if I wasn’t even there. It was so mortifying. And all over a stupid menu. I couldn’t decide what I wanted, so I freaked out. Who did that?
That’s right. I did that. Mentally unstable lunatics like myself who were fucked up because they were held captive for thirteen years, that’s who. God, I was so pathetic.
Carli tugged on my sleeve, drawing my attention from my self-deprecating thoughts. “Do you want a hug? You look sad and I’m really good at hugging.”
I forced a smile and shook my head. “No, that’s okay.”
She pursed her lips, looking quite put off that I said no. “Sometimes I get sad when I think about my momma. Is that why you’re sad?”
“Did everything go okay on your job?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror at his daughter, his face turning stony. I had the feeling I had overstepped somehow. “It was fine.”
I was quiet the rest of the way into town. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want to open my mouth again and ruin the night with stupid questions. However, Carli sat in the back and filled the silence by talking about her favorite flavors of ice cream, ranging from the absolute best to the yuckiest, as she put it.
When we pulled up to the curb, I was about to get out when I remembered Jason’s words before we left about someone trying to kill anyone relating to OPS, and I froze. It hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal before, but that was when we were on the property. Now, we were in town—away from the gates and the security. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants, trying to force myself to calm down, but everywhere I looked, it was like someone was watching me.
Then the door was jerked open and Jason was standing there with Carli in his arms. He held out his hand, nodding slightly to me. “It’s okay.”
It’s okay. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Besides, his daughter is with him. He wouldn’t bring her out if he thought there was someone around.
Slowly, I put my hand in his and slid out of the truck. My eyes immediately locked on his, knowing that as long as I could see them, I would be okay. I didn’t know why, but they steadied me.
The door shut and I took a long breath, steeling myself. I could do this. It was just ice cream. There was no one out there. Jason would keep me safe.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
I nodded and walked with him down the sidewalk to the little ice cream shop. There were two windows outside for ordering and pickup, with a large board between them listing the menu. The sheer amount of options was overwhelming. Half of them, I didn’t even recognize. I vaguely remembered trying a blizzard once, but I mostly stuck with cones.
“Which one are you gonna get?” Carli asked.
“I—” I stared at the board, trying to decide, but there were just too many items listed. My heart started racing at the endless possibilities. Everything was available in multiple flavors, sizes, and types of cones. Not to mention cups versus bowls.
I stepped back, feeling like the world was closing in on me. I rubbed my hands on my jeans over and over again, but nothing would stop the itch that was building. Then I felt a hand on my lower back, steadying me when I felt like I would fall over.
“Three chocolate cones,” Jason said, taking over, ordering for all of us.
I zoned out as he finished the order. I didn’t hear what size they were or how much they cost. I concentrated on slowing my breathing so I didn’t freak out his daughter. I glanced up for just a moment, and immediately ducked my head. She was staring at me, her eyes pulled down in concern.
“Daddy, what’s wrong with Izzy?”
“Nothing, baby.”
“She looks sad.”
I still couldn’t look up. God, even a four-year-old could tell there was something wrong with me.
“Does she? Hmm. Maybe she needs a hug. What do you think?”
“I think she does,” she whispered.
“Okay, but you have to ask her first. We never just hug people without asking first.”
“I hug you all the time.”
“That’s different. I’m your daddy. Some people might not be comfortable with hugs.”
God, I wanted to flee. He was having a conversation with his daughter about me as if I wasn’t even there. It was so mortifying. And all over a stupid menu. I couldn’t decide what I wanted, so I freaked out. Who did that?
That’s right. I did that. Mentally unstable lunatics like myself who were fucked up because they were held captive for thirteen years, that’s who. God, I was so pathetic.
Carli tugged on my sleeve, drawing my attention from my self-deprecating thoughts. “Do you want a hug? You look sad and I’m really good at hugging.”
I forced a smile and shook my head. “No, that’s okay.”
She pursed her lips, looking quite put off that I said no. “Sometimes I get sad when I think about my momma. Is that why you’re sad?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179