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Chapter Seven

Teddy

Fortunately, I knew of a motel just outside the city that takes cash and asks no questions, perfect for two people essentially on the run. Until I can get some kind of disguise in place, I don't want to be seen around, just in case. The video and images they got were fuzzy, but enough for me to need to be wary.

We pull into the gravel lot and I turn to Branson, who's been quiet since we left the market.

"Do you mind?" I ask him, handing him a few more bills and pointing at the sign that says ‘Reception’. He nods.

"What do I do?"

Once we're settled in our room, I go through the bag of stuff, pleased he was able to get it all. Branson takes a seat, closing his eyes and leaning his head back and I know his headache is probably still bothering him. He's always been a bit sickly, but the past few years I haven't obviously been concerned about his comfort. A sliver of guilt hits me and I start digging for the ibuprofen I put on the list. When my eyes land on an item I didn't ask for, I pull them out and hold up the barrettes in question.

"What are these?"

He opens his eyes long enough to look before shrugging and closing them again.

"They reminded me of you."

I look at the small girly things and feel a grin grow on my face. I hop off the bed and into his lap, leaning in to kiss his cheek lightly. He sighs and looks at me and I pout.

"Hardly the reaction a girl wants when she sits in her man's lap," I tease. He tries to give me a small smile, but I see the pain lined in the creases of his brow and let my pout drop.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, "just tired."

I nod and carefully rise off him, reaching into the bag again and handing him the pain killers.

"Take a few of these, I got them for you," I tell him. He looks at me a moment but eventually takes the bottle and swallows a few pills dry.

"That reminds me," he says as I hand him a bottle of water which he pauses to chug half of, "I saw something else in there I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" I ask, rifling through the bag to find the brush so I can start my hair.

"Condoms."

I feel myself pause and turn to him.

"What about them?"

"We had sex."

I look at him questioningly. "Umm, yes?"

"You could get pregnant."

"And?"

His hand darts out and grabs my arm, stopping my motions so I turn to look at him.

"Mia, this is serious. Do you really think either of us are equipped to handle something like that?"

I look into his face, his dark brown eyes staring into mine.

"I-I guess not," I admit, sitting on the side of the bed. "We're really gonna talk about this, huh?"

He nods.