chill.
Sue hurried down the sidewalk, keeping her head down and hoping none of her neighbors chose that moment to look outside.
Chapter Three
Sue tried not to look at the series of beach pictures that the bored teenager next to her kept flipping through on his phone. His parents were in the seats behind them. Every once in a while, his mother would try to hand him a water bottle and snacks. The kid would answer by shifting in the seat, slouching down as if to hide the bikini babe he’d found, and then sighing in annoyance. His leg encroached on Sue’s space, but instead of saying anything, she leaned closer to the window.
The tinted windows kept the interstate lights from shining in her face as they traveled past the dark landscape. She’d been on the bus for—gah, what was it, fifteen?—hours, and as much as she hated being crammed next to two dozen strangers, she needed their nearness. Whatever weirdness had followed her through town until she’d ended up taking refuge at a bus station didn’t seem to stir around the other passengers.
The screen of a tablet reflected in the window next to the seat in front of her. Though she couldn’t hear the words, she saw the face of the clown with a knife. She knew it was impossible, but it felt like the clown smiled directly at her. She hugged her arms across her chest. The screen flashed to that of a couple in deep conversation at a restaurant. It didn’t look like the same movie.
Sue turned her gaze to the back of the seat. The teenager suddenly jerked, hitting her shoulder with his elbow.
“Ow.” Sue rubbed her arm.
“Sorry,” the kid mumbled, but he continued playing a video game.
She pressed closer to the window to give him space. Her purse sat on the floor, squished between her feet. She thought of the check shoved in the zipper pocket of her purse, thankful she’d had the presence of mind to grab the bag.
Fear beat through her, tightening in her chest and flowing through her nervous limbs. She tried to convince herself that she’d hallucinated the remote hovering in the air, just like she hallucinated the smell of Hank’s cologne.
Sue glanced at the teenager’s phone just as he crashed the car he drove in the game. It flipped off the side of a cliff and exploded. She looked toward the window. The clown face was there, as he threatened with his knife. Tears gathered, and she closed her eyes.
In. Out. In. Out.
She had to calm herself, or she’d find herself screaming nonsense on a bus full of people.
“I can’t wait to get to the beach,” a woman said.
Sue had no idea where she was going. She had bought a ticket on the first bus leaving the station—anyplace to get away from the cloud of Hank’s cologne following her down the sidewalk. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing something wrong, which was ridiculous. If she wanted to buy a bus ticket and travel all night, she should be able to do that.
Hank didn’t like her traveling alone.
“Fuck Hank,” she whispered. “I can if I want to.”
“You want this? I’m done with it.”
Sue opened her eyes. The woman in the seat ahead of her held a magazine toward her. Sue automatically lifted her hand to take it even though she didn’t feel like reading. “Uh, thanks.”
She put the magazine on her lap. A model’s smiling face graced the cover next to the bold words, “Know when to shut your mouth.”
One of the scented inserts that advertised cologne had slipped to the side. A nerve in her hand stung, and she looked at the ring she’d found in the hospital bag. In her flight from the house, she’d forgotten about it.
The teenager bumped her again, causing the magazine to slide on her lap. The scented insert slipped farther from the pages. With a shaking hand, Sue pulled it out. A glass of bourbon neat was printed on it, and the smell of gun oil and cedar wafted over her. The smell made her sick to her stomach.
“Cool. Can I have that?” the teenager asked.
Sue looked from the insert to the boy, not following his question. He gave a meaningful look at the cologne ad. She slowly handed it to him. The teen snatched it from her and instantly peeled it open to rub the scented paper on his neck. The stench of the cologne became unbearable.
“Do you know if we’re stopping