Page 40 of The Stranger
I don’t trust these people not to hurt her, and now I have no way to defend us should things go wrong.
Without another word, he slips back into the car and places my knife in the center console, patting the top for good measure.
I reach for Tibby and keep my voice low. “I can explain.”
“Did you do it?” Her voice shakes as she asks the question, and it kills me.
“Of course not.”
“We gotta get moving, kids.” The woman stares at us impatiently, her voice carrying through Tony’s open door.
Tibby opens the back door, easing inside the car. “Let’s just go, Walker.”
I open my mouth to say more, but she closes the door at once and Tony shuts his as well, cutting me off. I move around to the other side of the car and slide in. Once inside, the woman stares over her shoulder at us with a pained expression. “I’m sorry about all that, but you know you can never be too careful. Are you both okay, temperature-wise?” Tibby nods. “Let me know if it gets too hot or too cold back there. I’m Lori, by the way. I don’t think I ever said that. And this is my husband, Tony.” When we don’t respond, she prompts, “What are your names?”
“Tibby.” She doesn’t look at me. Refuses to look at me. I don’t want to imagine what awful scenarios must be running through her head right now. She thinks she knows what I’ve done, but I need to explain. I can explain if she’ll just give me the chance. “And this is Walker.” My name on her tongue drips with venom.
Lori eases the car off the shoulder of the road, pointing us out of town. Slowly, we start on our journey, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long, miserable ride.
From where I sit, I hang my head down, furious over what’s just happened. I don’t go anywhere without my grandpa’s pocketknife, but if this is the only way to keep Tibby safe, I guess it’s what I’ll do. I can’t leave her alone with them. I don’t trust anyone with her, even if she no longer trusts me. Still, I won’t feel calm again until the knife is safely back in my pocket where it belongs.
“You kids will be so relieved to get home to your families, I’m sure. They must be thrilled to have you home for the holidays. Which of your families are you visiting first? It can always be so difficult to navigate those sorts of things. You know, who are we seeing first? Who will we spend the most time with? My first husband and I had so much trouble with that.” She adjusts her rearview mirror, looking at Tibby in the reflection. Despite her earlier silence, Lori is obviously a talker, though I wish she’d shut up. Then again, I’m grateful for the distraction as I try to decide how to explain everything.
“Oh, we aren’t together.” Tibby is quick to correct her. “Walker just…well, he picked me up tonight after I, um, well… I just needed a ride, and he was there.” Her head turns to look at me, and I try to meet her eyes, but just as quickly, she looks away. It’s as if she didn’t realize she was doing it. “We’re just traveling together. We don’t know each other at all, really.” She glances out the window, then adds, seemingly to drive the point home further, “We only met a few hours ago. He was supposed to take me to a gas station so I could call a friend, but the storm closed the interstate, so we got stuck together.”
My throat goes dry over the obvious way she wanted to make that known. That we aren’t together. That we never will be. That she’s only with me now because the weather forced us to be together. That she’d rather be anywhere else.
The couple exchanges a knowing look, and I suspect they’re thinking about how we were sharing a room and assuming this is some sort of weird one-night stand.
Let them think what they want.
I run my feet under their seat, checking for anything else I could use as a weapon should the need arise.
“Well, it sure is lucky he found you, then. This storm is brutal. I’m hoping we’ve already seen the worst of it,” Lori says, reaching forward to adjust the heat.
“I hope so, too,” Tibby says.
“I always liked snow,” Tony tells us, his voice whimsical. “Snow days when I was a kid, building snowmen. Snowball fights. Even now, I love it and wish we’d get more snow.”
“Only when we don’t have to travel in it,” Lori says pointedly.
“Of course.” He slips his hand across the center console and takes hers, lifting her knuckles to his lips and pressing a kiss to each one.
While she’s busy asking Tibby something else about her travels, I stick my hand into the pocket on the back of the seat carefully. Every move feels noisy, and I can only hope no one notices what I’m doing.
If I could just find a pen or a lighter, a book, even. Something heavy. Just something to protect us in case things go badly.
My hand connects with something thin. Paper, I suppose. Useless. I pull it out anyway and stare down, and suddenly, my blood runs cold. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my eyes and make sense of what I’m seeing.
What the…
“Everything okay?” Tibby whispers, leaning over to see what I’m looking at.
I shove the photo down to my side. “No. I, uh, I’m going to be sick.” I’m not so sure it’s a lie. I feel lightheaded. “I’m going to be sick right now. Pull over.”
“What?” Lori adjusts the heat so it’s not blowing as hard and she can hear us better. “What’s wrong? You’re getting carsick? Should I crack a window?”
I cover my mouth. “No. Let me out of the car. Now. Please pull over.”