I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

80 (NEW)

We hit the road...going north, in the Nissan Versa four-door. The feel of a gentle breeze through the windows cools my face, curing with my fear-mongering. My sight keeps dashing to the window at open fields. The sun lowers in the pocket of the sky in the East. Beside us. "So, which is it, Nebraska or Wyoming?" Chris asks.

"Whichever one is closest, we need to rest soon."

"Yeah..." Chris extends his arm outside his window and catches the wind; swaying his arm in a swerving motion, up and down. His brown eyes are a light, caramel color in the sunlight, as he stares ahead. "I need a burner; I have to call home."

"Your parents are the safest they can be right now," I reassure.

"I know, it's just...my gut is getting to me." The long clear roads ahead curve and dip as he drives.

"The next gas station shouldn't be far." I examine the rearview mirror. A few cars are behind us, maybe a squad...maybe just regular people traveling. But you can never be too careful-suspect everyone. I remind myself.

The next gas station arrives.

Chris heads inside as I add gas, limping to the pump with my bandaged leg, not using my crutch this time. The tank is half full, yet I don't want us stopping too much, so I still add gas. I wonder as I pump a strong chemical into the back hole of the vehicle, about who is still checking on me from New York. Maybe Vicki, Amber and Jade. I feel the last message I sent the girls was good enough to last a while. My mom probably called, she checks in about every few months, as a so called "motherly duty," despite hating what I am, despite hoping I'll grow out of my bad habit.

Maybe I should call her. No matter how complicated things are between us, I should still make an effort. In given time, she may come around...in a decade or so.

I remove the pump once $20 is spent and place it back into its socket. Now the take is full. I then walk to the front of the car, waiting on Chris, resting on the hood of the car. A warm breeze summons the trees and grass to dance. The ambiance of passing traffic makes me edgy.

My eyes read the faces of the drivers and passengers. A pickup truck passes, two people in the front, and two riding in the back trunk, their shirts off as all of them down beers. Another car zip pass, a lady and a little girl sings to the radio obnoxiously.

"KitKat?" I jerk at Chris's voice. "Woah, you literally need a chill pill." He cracks, his eyes playful. "Baby..." his voice lingers adorably on the word, his soft hands cup my cheeks. "It's all behind us now. I've been keeping a lookout too, just like you while we've been driving." Chris tugs my collar, forcing me down into a kiss, leaving his lips on mine, long enough that I find meditation in his touch. I'm rendered weak and distracted, his hands move down from my face to my shoulders, cursing them to loosen. Our lips part in silence, like clouds separating; slowly and smoothly.

Chris beams at a few birds that fly by tweeting, seeming like a kid in the moment. I stroke his messy hair, falling fast into his vibrant eyes. "Did you get a phone?"

He raises a white bag that's wrapped around the fold of his arm. "Yeah, a flip phone. I totally forgot how to use it but you should have no problem, old man."

"I'm not that old..." I protest, getting touchy over the remark. I drop my hand from his hair...growing sensitive.

"Someone's in denial...just admit that you prey on young men." He teases. "You're a cougar and I prefer gerontophilia...I accept my title."

I roll my eyes at him with a tight smile.

Back on the road, I drive across Oklahoma state. Yes my steering the car is illegal since I have cast, but I've trained my legs a long time ago. Chris stretches his feet on the dashboard, moving around uncomfortably, groaning dramatically. It has been three hours since the gas station, and he's restless. "I need to stretch my legs!" He complains. "This hurts!"