She shakes her head slowly, biding her time as she gazes at me with tempestuous sorrow. “No.”
Then she walks straight towards me. Past me. I turn my head, chasing the scent of her. She strolls casually back to the RV, climbs inside, and slams the door.
Fuck.
Shoshanna
Present day
The RV slowsafter five hours of non-stop travel. Pulling the blinds aside and peering out the windscreen, I watch as we roll into a quaint but derelict campground still bordered by nothingness as far as the eye can see. Crossing my legs on the queen-sized bed, I drum my nails on my bare thighs.
I don’t even have any clothes.
Turning back to the inside cabin, my eyes dance around the impressive space, taking in the sight of the obnoxiously elaborate furnishings, decorated with all the modern commodities anyone could ever desire.
Except a phone. . .
I need to check on Akila.
My stomach growls, heavily affected by the tranquilliser and empty for over twelve hours. Tightening my grip around the pan, I remind myself I have a weapon. Not that he’d ever hurt me. Not really.
At that thought, sadness swallows me.
What have you done to us, Bronson?
I wasn’t there for him, there to show him he could be more. That a simple life with me was better than the one Jimmy had planned for him. I’m reminded of a conversation I had with Clay. We spoke about how Jimmy’s world would seduce Bronson. How I could stop it. . . And here it is. . . His world of corruption and greed and taking what he wants. . . Drugging me. Kidnapping me. This is just a glimpse into what time and the likes of Jimmy Storm’s influence can do to a passionate man like Bronson.
With his cool smile and indecently good looks, charming and deadly in nature, it is easy to see how Bronson has lived his life for the past decade. But he was always too full of love to become Jimmy. I thought he felt too deeply to take so cruelly what wasn’t his to take. What was I thinking? That he would just let me in and then let me go. . . I was so stupid.
He fucked me, stripped me of my consciousness, and then robbed my freewill.My Bronson?And he doesn’t know what he has done. Taking me away from Akila. . . What will Perry do?God, I shake my head, squeezing my friend, ‘the pan,’ again.
I look at the clock hanging above the closet and know that hundreds of miles away, Perry will be searching for me. I’m sure of it. How long do people have to be missing before the police are called? Days, I think.
Will Katie tell him?
Will she care?
A wave of nausea twists through my stomach.
Hunger flexes its claws inside me like a monster.
The door to the RV opens, and he steps inside, having to duck his head and bend his large tattooed six-foot five frame down ever so slightly. Faded denim jeans and a brown belt sit low on his hips, while a black singlet hugs his defined muscular body. His tattoos lick up from beneath the fabric, wrapping around his muscles. And he’s glistening with sweat from the West Australian climate.
Once standing inside, he straightens. His eyes train on mine, flashing for a moment with uncertainty.
“There are two floors,” he says calmly, a grin lightly pulling at his lips. I stare at him deadpan. “You should see the stars from up there. It’s like that day at the lookout - so clear you can almost grab them. You remember that day, baby?”
In absolute disbelief, I shake my head slowly.
Does he think this will blow over?
He drugged me!
“You drugged me! What did you think would happen, Bronson? Did you think I’d just jump into your arms, and we would fuck all the way back to the District?”
He raises a dark eyebrow and his lips twist, his intentions clear in his half grin. “A man can dream. . . but I have important business, baby. You have no idea what-“
“I have important business!” I screech, jumping to my feet, brandishing the pan in front of me to keep the distance between us. “I have a life! People who depend on me. . . patients. You got what you wanted; you got in my head! Why take me?”