Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,31

I know, the more I can’t win.

“Maybe we should stop talking about this. I know I started it, but I don’t want to know,” I say honestly.

As we continue the drive, I stare out the window and count cars, keeping my mind distracted.

“So, tell me something about you. Anything,” he says.

“I’m sure you know everything about me, you have been briefed,” I say.

“I know facts about you, like where you lived, your work, and things like that. What’s one thing about you that everyone should know?” He actually sounds interested.

“I thought I had to change everything about myself in order to hide. No use hanging onto the past.”

“You can change things like your appearance or your movements. You can’t change people’s hearts, and what’s inside. That’s one thing you have to realize.”

“I have always been an overachiever, and somehow I still never felt good enough for my family.” Just saying those words makes me feel inadequate.

He nods. “That explains a lot, and I hate that you feel like that about yourself. On paper, you’ve accomplished more than a lot of people in this world.”

“I’ve learned to live with this; it’s not something new to me. It’s really the force that drives me to keep doing more. I tried every day to be good enough for Steven, but once I realized that was never going to happen, I gave up on it.”

“You’re too good for Steven, let alone most guys out there. But you’re intimidating, and a lot of men have to be the harder working one. They have their egos and can’t have them damaged.”

Talking about me makes my lungs compress, begging for air. So I blurt, “Are you ever going to tell me why they call you Rig?”

“Well, because I’m always on the road, kinda like big rig drivers.” Is all he offers up, but I know there is more behind the name. I’m starting to be able to tell when he isn’t giving me all the details.

Not everyone can be an open book, and that’s ok. I don’t say another word, knowing I’m skirting around a very fine line, one that will make things blow up if my words aren’t chosen carefully. But I’m no longer ashamed of what I have been put through, and this realization has been a long time coming.

The beautiful scenery passing by this empty highway is enough for me at this moment. Just being able to breathe in the fresh air coming through my window is liberating, and different from the smoggy city air. These are things I didn’t really get living in Southern California, where smog blurred my vision. I’m starting to get used to sitting around and not having anything to be doing. After years of constant stress about having to always be moving, never having a moment to just be in the moment, this is different.

We continue our journey to out next stop, sometimes making small talk, but never having to be saying words just to make the time pass. I wonder where we will be staying next, and with whom. Hopefully, it’ll be as comfortable as it was with Alice and James, and that this wild goose chase will be over soon.

We arrive at our newest destination, and it’s nothing like the other safe house. This house is huge, modern, and extremely well taken care of. It’s nothing that I thought it would be, and I guess that’s the point of being here.

We are in the suburb of a city I don’t care to know about. The less I know about where we are, the better. Does it even mater where I am? The only people who should know are the ones who have arranged this.

On the ride here, I was struggling the further we got into our drive, and the fact that I’m missing my parents is weighing heavily on me. All I could do is repeat their phone number in my head, making sure it’s one thing I don’t ever forget. I desperately want to hear their voices and give them a sign that I’m alright, but I know I can’t talk to them.

It’s probably the one thing I know I will not be able to get over. All I can imagine is how devastated they’ll be. I don’t think I could go through life never knowing what has happened to my child if I ever had one. The thought of it hurts me to my core, and I wipe a lone tear off my cheek—one that

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