Against My Will

Chapter Three Part Two - Run

     Lincoln slipped out of the kitchen as quiet as a mouse. There was another hallway on the opposite side of the kitchen that led to some other part of the house. Tawnee and I finished our pancakes in silence. When she moved to take the dishes to the sink, I cleared my throat.

     "I can see you're afraid of him."

     Her shoulders drooped. She did not look at me. I stared hard into her back. It was a long time until she answered.

     "I'm not scared of him. I'm scared of how he will react."

     I scoffed, rotating in my chair to face her. "That's the same thing! It's obvious to anyone that he's unstable - he grabbed my neck, Tawnee, and pushed me down into a chair. What sane person does that?"

     She spun on her heels, nostrils flaring as she glared at me. "Lincoln is not unstable, Lily. What he has has nothing to do with being out of control. He's just. . .different."

     I paused. She said my name. How do they know my name?

     "Who told you my name?"

     Tawnee opened her mouth, then closed it. She repeated the action once again before spinning around to the sink.

     "How do you know my name, Tawnee?" My voice was louder. Ribbon, who had been dozing on his cushion in the corner of the room, raised his head, collar tags tinkling together.

     I lowered my voice and said, "Huh? Who told you my goddamn name?"

     She mumbled something incoherent.

     "What?"

     "Lincoln!" She whirled around, mouth parted as she sucked in a breath. "Lincoln told me your name."

     "And how does he know my name?"

     Earlier I had been flustered; my anger intensified with her coyness. My hands balled into fists as I awaited her answer.

     Tawnee held up a finger and shook it at me, dropping her head to the side. "I don't have to explain anything to you. If Lincoln wants you to know then he'll tell you."

     "He doesn't speak," I said. "Is he retarted or something?"

     She glared daggers at my face.

     "Lincoln is not retarted. I told you, what's wrong with him has nothing to do with being slow." She paused, finger dropping and brows furrowing at the same time. "Well, maybe a little bit."

     "Oh, my God," I said. "I've been kidnapped by a beefy moron." I touched a hand to my forehead and laughed humorlessly.

     "Stop it!" Tawnee shouted. That made Ribbon stand up. A growl broke the tension in the kitchen.

     Tiredly, Tawnee scrubbed her face with both hands. She reeled on the dog, something I wasn't expecting.

     "Shut up! Go lay down!"

     Startled, I watched as Ribbon stared at Tawnee for a second longer, snorted, then turned and trotted down the hallway. My eyes skipped over a steak knife that rested on the counter Ribbon past. I did not eye the blade for too long, returning my gaze to Tawnee. We were alone.