Playing Patience Page 45


But as much as I wanted to spill my guts and free myself, I knew I couldn’t. Not just because of what Zeke might think, but because I had my mother and sister to worry about. If Zeke did spill the beans and tell, it wouldn’t be long until rumors about the governor started to circulate and make its way back to my house, to my mom.

“Nothing much. I’m just thinking about stuff.” I turned in my seat toward him. “Let’s go somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care where you take me. I just don’t want to go home yet.”

He looked over at me with his signature grin. His eyes filled with laughter.

“It’s after midnight. I’m pretty sure your dad’s already going to kill you,” he said as he switched hands on the steering wheel.

“Then I guess I better enjoy my last few hours alive, shouldn’t I?”

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was how comfortable I felt with Zeke, but I was actually flirting. The words even sounded flirty when they came out. He looked over at me with a serious look on his face and then he shook his head.

“Don’t do that, snowflake.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“You’re flirting with me. I’m sure it’s the alcohol talking, but I’m no different from the guys at the bar. If anything, I’m worse.”

“What if I think you’re different?”

“Then you’re more naïve than I originally thought.”

We were rapidly approaching my house and I was running out of time to convince him to take me somewhere else, but I couldn’t think of a place for him to take me or a reason why I didn’t want to go home that sounded legit.

When we pulled into my neighborhood and I saw we were passing huge houses, I started to freak out. It wasn’t going to be good and I kept remembering what it felt like to be slung against the kitchen table and treated like less than nothing. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. If I had to sleep next to the pool in my backyard I would, but I wasn’t going in my house with these clothes on and alcohol on my breath. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to say something.

“Please,” I said as calmly as possible. “Please don’t take me home, Zeke. I’ll go anywhere, anywhere but there.”

He looked over at me with a strange expression on his face, and then he pulled his car over on to the side of the road.

“What’s the deal? Why are you so afraid to go home? You can tell me anything, you know.”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable with the conversation and all I wanted was to get out of his car and away from my house.

“Just forget it. I’ll find somewhere to go.” I popped the door open and turned to get out.

His warm hand wrapped around my arm as he stopped me.

“Get back in here. You can crash at my place as long as you promise to be quiet. My dad will shit a brick if he sees me bring a girl home and I promise you my dad makes your dad look like a saint.”

He turned the car around and headed toward his house. If only he knew. My dad was definitely not a saint, and I’d face anybody or anything in his trailer park if it meant staying away from home for the night.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into his yard. The lights in his trailer were out and I was finding it hard to maneuver my way to the trailer door. He reached out and grabbed my hand as we crept up the rickety steps. He put a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet, as he softly popped open his trailer door. The smell that welcomed me could only be described as foul and the small space felt suffocating.

The light above the stove in the kitchen lit a small area through the living room and made it possible for me to see there was no one in the living room anywhere. Zeke closed the door behind us, locked it, and then ushered me down a long, dark hallway.

“Be careful of the floor right here,” he whispered into the dark.

He pulled me through a doorway and then he shut the door behind us and flicked on a dim light. His room was small, but organized. There was a small twin-size bed, a weight bench, and a dresser that looked like the only thing holding it up was the clothes in the drawers. He went to his closet and pulled out a blanket and started laying it on the floor. I sat on his bed and unzipped my boots. Once I pulled them off, I stuck them in the corner and crawled onto the pallet that he made on the floor.

“No. I’ll sleep down there. You sleep in the bed,” he said.

Then he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the corner. He filled the small space to begin with, but once his chest was naked he somehow felt bigger. I took in his tattoos and wondered to myself what he would do if I got a closer look. I watched from the floor as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off. He did this as he kicked off his boots. His eyes never left mine.