Bishop wasn't ruling that out either. Being a drifter had its risks. There were weeks when no good shelter could be found. You ended up cold and wet and hungry. Most people who took to the road knew that. They either got used to it, and thus used to feeling like shit, cozied up with some tribe, or died. Then there were people like Bishop and Jace, who seemed to always manage to walk into the absolute worst situations. Part of that probably had to do with their personalities, what with Bishop's derailed violence and Jace's kleptomatic tendancies. It still wasn't fair that they got shot at/stabbed more than anyone else, but again, it was a calculated risk.
She noticed that he stuck around, just to watch her. It should have been kind of creepy, but she never reacted like a normal female. Instead, it didn't bother her at all. In fact, she kind of liked having him around, even when he wasn't doing anything. That happy feeling was short lived, however, since there was still lots of crappy stuff that they had to get to before they were allowed to go back to sleep. Sighing, she nodded. "Might as well get it out of the way." Please, please, please let the person on the other side of that door not want to kill us. Nice, happy thoughts. Really positive.
With a half smile, she took his hand. Bishop led the way back out of the bathroom, pausing in front of the bedroom door. It sucked that she didn't know what to expect from here on out. Yesterday morning, she'd had a much better handle on where her life was. Taking a deep breath, she yanked open the door. It was time to get that handle back. Or at least try.