Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,36

vigilant than you have been before. Continue to look over your shoulder anywhere we stop.”

I take in all this information, grasping the reality of the situation I have put us in. “I will. I won’t mess up again, I promise.”

We continue our journey, and after a while I can’t keep my eyes open, eventually falling asleep.

We drive for days until we end up at this small cottage-like house, we stopped at different hotels, and made huge circles making sure nobody was on our trail. Nobody is here when we arrive. This is not a house occupied by others, which makes things different than the other places we have been, more like the hotels.

Things pretty much have gone back to normal, if you call it that, after the day I called my parents’ house. Rig has done everything to contain his reactions, knowing my background.

Sometimes I wonder who he really is, if he always has to hold his tongue and watch what he says, not wanting to make me fear him. Even though I know he is nothing like the monster I’m hiding from, and I want to know him.

We hide out inside, and the place is so stocked we may never have to leave. Rig and I have been talking more, but every time he gets close he catches himself and shuts down. So I continue to try to get him to open up, see me as a friend instead of just a person he is helping to hide out. I want him to see the true me and show me parts of him too. I can always tell he is holding back something.

I have a rabid case of cabin fever. I want to get out, do something, even though I kind of ruined that the last time we were out. He does the cooking and the cleaning up. He never asks me to help, and when I do, he tells me not to worry about it.

I found out once we got here, how close we actually were to being caught. Steven and his people went right to the location after the police were there, and they have been pretty much trying to follow any trail they could find. It makes me nervous, but I trust when Rig tells me he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. It’s a little weird having this trust with someone I barely know, and it pushes my limits in knowing what I should and shouldn’t be doing.

After sitting on the couch for hours, flipping through endless channels, I wonder where Rig has been, so I get up to go find him. I knock softly on his door, waiting for a response. Curiosity gets the best of me and I barge right in. As I open the door, he walks out of the adjacent bathroom in nothing but a towel around his hips. My cheeks heat. I can’t say anything and I just stare at all scars scattered across his back. One huge one to the left side, and little ones around it.

He halts abruptly and snugs his towel tighter. “Do you mind?”

But all it does it peek my curiosity, wanting to know how he got these. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t seen you in a while, and I was getting a little nervous.”

“I was napping, and decided to take shower. Let me get dressed and I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Where did your scars come from?” I blurt. “I felt them the other night. What happened to you?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s there to remind me to always be on my toes. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

I walk over to him, watching him become rigid, like he doesn’t know what I’m doing. He doesn’t even realize the scars that I have hidden under my clothes, ones I pretend aren’t there. “Tell me, I want to know. I’m not someone who judges.” I’m now just inches from him. I put my hand up, first a little apprehensive, but then I trace the outline of his scars, begging them to tell me where they came from.

“Parker, you are crossing the line,” he protests, but doesn’t move. Maybe this is all some sort of show he is putting on, like a game, or perhaps he’s as confused as I am.

“Just tell me. Where did these come from?” I continue touching every single one of them, examining how some are more raised than the others.

“When I told you I wasn’t who you