Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,21
hands laced behind his lowered head. He hears me and looks up, with an unreadable expression on his face.
“You can’t kiss me again. First you yell at me for doing that in an attempt to distract the cops. Then you go and do that! You aren’t thinking clearly. I don’t get involved with the people I hide. It’s dangerous, and when you mix feelings in, things can go bad real fast.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I hang my head.
“Look, Parker, you’re beautiful, and there is something about your sass and the way you test me that I find ridiculously sexy, but I’m not what you think.”
His statement angers me. How would I know anything about him when he never talks to me?
“I never claimed to know anything about you, only the little bit that I’ve dragged out of you. It’s funny, because I’m sure you know a hell of a lot more about me than I know about you. You’ve probably been briefed about what you are up against. You know about all the awful things that have been done to me.” My voice sounds hasher than I mean for it to. “I just think if we are going to be together a lot, for me, I like to know about the other person.”
“Andrew has only told me what I need to know, and we don’t go around chatting about you over coffee. That’s not how we work. How did this turn into Rig is an asshole talk again?”
“God, you are so frustrating.”
“I’m frustrating? You’re so . . . UGHHHH! I have to go help James.” He gets up and walks out.
I guess burying myself in some housework is a good idea right about now, get my mind off things, and stay far away from Rig. I change into some jeans and a yellow T-shirt, tie my short wig back into a small ponytail, and make my way out to see what Alice needs me to do. I find her in the living room, boxing up a bunch of old trinkets off the fireplace mantel.
“So, what can I do?” I ask.
“I’m just trying to get all this stuff in boxes and dust. I have some paint—the inside just needs a major facelift—and I can’t do this on my own. I would love it if you could help me. Do you know how to paint?” she asks, putting a framed photo in the box.
“Umm, I haven’t ever really painted, but I’m sure it won’t be too hard. Do you have some rags? I can start dusting and wiping surfaces while you take the stuff down.”
“That sounds great. There are some rags over on the coffee table. Oh, and there’s a bucket under the kitchen sink. Can you fill it with some warm soapy water?”
“Yes, I’m on it.”
I walk into the kitchen and find the bucket and fill it up. I look out the window over the sink, and find James and Rig talking there, pointing to the roof.
Soapy water sloshes in the bucket as I carry it to the mantel. I’m good at cleaning, since it was always such an issue with Steven, and over the years I had to make sure things were done a certain way, and quickly.
“So how has your journey been so far?” Alice asks. “I know it must be really hard on you, but Rig is very good at what he does. Being safe is something you don’t ever have to worry about while you’re with him.”
“It’s been okay. Tiring and scary. I’m just trying to get used to moving around a lot. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I still am trying to get used to Rig. He’s awfully moody most of the time. I just really hope this works out.”
“Rig, moody?” she says sarcastically, which makes me glad that I’m not the only one who gets this vibe from him.
“Exactly. I can’t get a clear picture of who he is, because of his . . . ‘moods.’”
“He seems to be smitten with you, I can tell.”
I laugh, hard. I mean Alice seems to be a wise woman, but I can guarantee she is completely wrong with this one. He can’t stand me, or my attitude, and he made it very clear not even ten minutes ago.
“I don’t know why you find that funny. You are a very attractive woman. Once you get to break down those walls both of you have put up for different reasons, I think you’ll see.”
“Well,