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At the time, it had been driving my car off a cliff and landing in a ditch, trapped, with an engine fire.
It was still a fear of mine, of course. I carried one of those tools to slice off your seatbelt and smash your windows on me at all times because of it.
But the older I got, the more my fears went from tangible things—like wrecks or fires—to more intangible things.
"I'm afraid of dying without feeling like I've... gotten it."
"Gotten what?"
"Whatever it is that will make me happy," I admitted.
"You're not happy?"
"I have happy moments," I said, leaving out the fact that the happiness I'd felt in the kitchen with him was the last time I could recall feeling that sensation in a really, really long time. "But I'm not just... always happy. I mean I know no one is always happy. Maybe my happiness ceiling is lower."
"Or maybe you're not happy because you're not living life the way that would bring you happiness. You're alone a lot, preciosa. It's not good. That's not how people are supposed to be."
"I don't like people," I told him, smiling.
"You like the right people. You just need to be around those people."
"Are you happy?"
"I'm happy enough," he said, shrugging. "There are always things that would make me happier, of course. But if this is all there is, that's alright."
"What things would make you happier?" I asked.
"Love. A relationship. Children. That's always been how I saw my life eventually."
"Probably even more so now that Huck has settled down."
"Exactly," he agreed.
"What's your biggest fear?" I asked.
"Losing someone I love."
It hadn't changed since the last time I'd asked.
"You have a lot of people now."
"And a lot to lose," he agreed, nodding.
"Wow, this just got a lot darker than I planned," I said, trying to think of something else to say.
"Why haven't you settled down, found a man?" Che asked.
"Have you met men?" I asked, laughing. "I think, with my work, I don't really meet a lot of men who want anything serious. And even if they did, I've always been so transient."
"Do you have an exit plan?"
"I have exit money," I told him. "And I know I will be okay if tomorrow I can't do this anymore. But I don't have any set date to be done by or anything like that. I figured one day, it would just get old."
"Maybe it is more that..." he started, trailing off.
"More that what?" I asked.
"We're being followed," Che said, stiffening.
"Are you sure? I haven't seen lights behind us."
"Because they keep turning off," he said. "I thought I was being paranoid. But this is the third time they've gotten behind us. Fuck," he added, and I was suddenly aware of just how rural things had gotten. No houses. No businesses. No other cars. And just a long, long road flanked by trees.
"There's an extra gun in the glove box."
"I don't like guns."
"Sass," he snapped, voice brooking no argument. And, well, I might not have liked guns, but if this was going to come down to me and Che or these assholes behind us, I was going to do everything in my power to make sure the two of us made it through.
The gun felt heavy in my hand as I pulled it out.
"There's no safety. You just point and shoot."
"Okay," I agreed as he accelerated.
I expected the sort of elation that came with the speed, that high I'd been chasing my whole adult life. But while there was an expected adrenaline surge, it wasn't the same. It didn't quiet my mind. It only made it race faster, each thought tripping over the next, none of them making any sense.
"Che..." I said, swallowing hard.
"It's gonna be alright," he assured me.
"You don't know that," I said, trying to focus on taking slow, deep breaths.
"Take my phone and text Huck," he demanded. "Give him a general location. Tell him we're being followed."
I had no good explanations to give Huck about where we were. The middle of nowhere. But I did the best I could, then tucked the phone into my front pocket as the road took a sharp turn, making my stomach plummet as my hand shot out, grabbing the dash.
"It's okay," Che assured me again, even though it wasn't. Whoever was following us wasn't falling back. I didn't know what they were driving, but it was keeping up. And this road just seemed to keep going into the middle of nowhere. Which had been a great idea when we thought we would take a mind-clearing drive out to the middle of nowhere. But it wasn't looking so great for us if they outnumbered or outmaneuvered us.
"Che," I said, looking over my shoulder. "Swerve over," I demanded. There was no one coming in the oncoming lane. No one for miles, it looked like. "Swerve over and decelerate. Get behind them. I'm probably not a good shot, but maybe you can shoot out a tire, so we can get away."
