Page 53 of Monster's Edge

Instantly, I close my mouth. I wish I could close my eyes, too, but I have a feeling that Ian isn’t in a playful mood today. If I close my eyes or do anything he considers to be rude, he’s going to beat my ass until it’s black and blue. I know this.

“Get in the car,” he tells me firmly, and he releases me. To Georgetta, he nods. “You too.”

A moment later, the three of us are in the back of his black vehicle. I can’t see the driver because there’s a partition up, but Ian seems unconcerned with my own comfort at this moment. If it were up to me, I’d know who was in the front seat.

One guy?

Two guys?

Is it a driver and a security dude?

Is it just a driver?

The motel room door is closed with the key left on the bed. Georgetta will lose her key deposit, but I doubt that she actually cares about that in this moment. Maybe Ian gave her the money for the room. I’m not sure.

I’m quiet, squished between Georgetta and Ian. His hand rests protectively on my thigh. I know that I’m dirty and gross and sweaty, but he says nothing. He just closes the door and the car starts moving.

Somehow, I think that people are constantly waiting on Ian. Everyone seems to know exactly how to move around him. In some ways, it reminds me of the way people move around my dad. Everyone in his life is carefully arranged and planned. The people in my father’s world live to serve him, and he lives to be served by them.

Is Ian like this, too?

Is that what he wants?

We’ve been driving for ten minutes in total silence before I speak again.

“My dad wanted me to go with Mr. Ricci,” I tell him, whispering the words.

“I know.”

“Georgetta helped me escape.”

“I know.”

“We were both grazed by bullets, but we’re okay.”

At this point, I’m just monologuing, but I need to say the words out loud. I need for there to be some acknowledgement of what Georgetta and I have gone through. It’s like I need for there to be some sort of acceptance of this.

Ian squeezes my thigh tightly when I tell him that we were grazed by bullets.

“Is this true?” I can tell he’s speaking to Georgetta.

“Yes, Mr. Salucci,” she says. “I checked her over. She’s okay.”

“And are you okay?”

Georgetta’s head whips around. “Sir?” She’s surprised he’s asking about her. Interesting. This tells me a lot about their relationship. Not that I thought they had a relationship. I’m not jealous. Ian and I aren’t going steady or anything pedantic like that.

“Are you okay, Georgetta? Do I need to have a doctor waiting when we get back?” He speaks firmly, but slowly, as though he’s explaining the way a world works to a child. One thing is for certain: none of us would ever go to the hospital. I don’t even think I’ve ever set foot in a clinic. If we get sick, a doctor is called. Someone discreet comes to us, takes care of us, and gives us what we need.

We don’t go to the hospital.

That was something that my dad drummed into my head years ago. Even now, mere hours after my escape, I can hear his words pulsing through my head. Doctors are dangerous. Doctors reveal secrets. We can only use people we trust.

We need to protect the family.

“I don’t need a doctor,” she finally says. “Thank you for your consideration.”

“I appreciate what you did for me.”