Run

Chapter Thirty

Alex has been walking on eggshells. He's been so attentive its suffocating, he keeps asking if I'm alright and if there's something bothering me. What bothers me is knowing how paranoid he'll get if I tell him about the phone call.

I've sent him across the street back to the Starbucks while I finish up one of my last few portraits of the day. I'm signing my name and getting my money by the time he's walking back. I see my drink in one hand and a bag in the other.

"I got you a cake pop," he smiles gently at the blonde 30-something year old as he hands me the bag and cup.

"A what?" Looking in the bag I see a little pink ball on a stick, it smells so good.

"They take cake and smush it into a ball, put on a stick and dunk it chocolate or frosting or whatever. You haven't eaten much today and you seem tired, I thought a little sugar would help. I got the birthday cake one, it looked the best."

I give him a empathetic look, as I mouth "thank you" to him. He's really trying. And it really does look good.

I take a few sips of my drink and eat the delicious little treat before starting my next portrait. It'll be dark soon, so I have to hurry.

Alex watches me draw, sitting behind me and staring at the paper. He's become fascinated with how I draw, it's flattering. I'm trying to hide my blush when my phone rings. It causes me to jump a little, causing Alex to flinch and shoot me a worrisome look.

"Do you want me to get that for you?" he asks.

"Ummm," I feel my stomach form knots, "No, my mom probably butt dialed me, I know she's working right now. It's no biggie."

"Are you sure?" He pulls my bag onto the table and opens the main pocket, "I could at least hit the end call button so it doesn't distract you."

"Really Alex, it's ok," I snap, stunning him, "I'm sorry, I'm just tired and I'm really trying to focus here."

He nods and looks down at my bag, now I feel awful. I go back to drawing, desperately trying to just finish.

After the couple I was drawing has paid, Alex and I call it a night. I made a little more than $100 with tips so it wasn't a bad day. Alex and I are silent packing up. He doesn't look sad or worried, he looks angry. He carries my stuff to the cab and doesn't say anything on the drive to the motel. It makes me scared, I feel sick to my stomach.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye, watching him lick his lips over and over again and listening to him tap his finger on the door.

Once we reach the motel, I get out with my stuff while he pays the driver. I walk to the room door to wait for him, I shiver but I can't tell if its from nerves or the chilly air. He breezes past me with the key, still silent. I follow hesitantly, not sure what will happen.

He carefully closes the door behind me, holding onto the doorknob longer than he needs to. He's never radiated this much pure frustration without speaking, and the fact that he isn't speaking scares me because I don't know what's going on. I feel a lump form in my throat as scared tears cause my eyes to burn.

"Who called you?" his voice is low as he speaks through gritted teeth.

"Wha--"

"Who called you? Tell me!" He spins to face me, I can't read him, I back up a few steps.

"I don't know, like I said my mom might have--"

"Stop it! I know that's a lie, you never hesitate to pick up for your mom! Who called you!"

The tears start leaking out and I shake harder. I feel my entire body get rigid as my stomach forms knots.

"Jules?"