Trap. Everything about this said trap. She let him take point as he investigated the car outside. They’d developed a pattern, working together, and they suited each other. She didn’t take him stepping in front of her as a sign of him taking charge, more of him taking his place, as she took hers. She peered around him, eyeing the car suspiciously. It was a bit too convenient for it to show up like that, just as they’d turned their backs. The trouble was, if this was a trap, they were clearly already in the middle of it, so stepping into something else that obviously said “trap” was par for the course at this point. Besides, if they had the car, they’d be a moving target, and at least she wouldn’t have to listen to him bitch and moan about the damn thing. In the past six months they’d spent more time washing that damn car than they had actually driving it, of that she was certain.
“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” she said in a deadpan voice, designed to hide how uneasy the entire situation was making her. He’d probably see right through her. They’d been spending enough time together lately that they’d started learning each other’s habits, but she didn’t care. Sometimes the simple act of hiding her emotions was enough to make her feel safer, so she kept doing it. She’d put up a front, and pretend this whole thing didn’t make her feel like a wolf trying to chew off its own leg to get out of a trap. Her instincts were usually to flee when she felt this cornered, but where could she run to? She didn’t even know where she was.
Stepping around him, she pushed the door open and walked to the car. It was his impala, all right. It had all the little touches she’d become familiar with since she’d started traveling with him, and she could even smell the faint hint of menthol cigarettes that lingered from the last time she’d lit up inside. He’d lost his mind at her and she’d been careful not to do inside the car again.
“Let’s get this show on the road, then,” she barked, harsher than necessary in her agitation, and not wanting to hesitate out in the open any longer. She pulled the door open, the familiar creak making her feel just a touch safer. What an odd reaction. Less than a year and already she felt at home in the damn thing. She hadn’t felt at home anywhere in thousands years. “Unless you want me to drive,” she added with a smirk, knowing full well just how he felt about other people driving his precious car.