“Where are you going?”
“My car is parked on the main level.”
“The car seat is already in my car, and your stuff has been moved.”
I shake my head and follow him to a Mercedes G-Wagon parked near the elevator. He opens the rear door, and sure enough, Ollie’s car seat is in the middle of the back seat. I buckle him in and grab his old teddy bear out of the diaper bag. I bought itfor him when he was first born, and he never gets too far from it. Ollie smiles at me. I can survive anything if it means keeping him safe. I stand back up. Ronan shuts the rear door and then opens the passenger door for me. I slide into the seat and wait for Ronan to get in.
“I’m sure you really don’t want Ollie and me in your space. The motel we’re in is fine for now. I’ve already paid for the next week, so we can just stay there for now.”
“It’s fine. Besides, I already had your stuff moved to my apartment and got you a refund. My place is safer for you both.”
I know he means safer from the immediate danger. The motel we are staying in is not exactly the Ritz. But I can’t stop myself from thinking it also means safer from everything we ran from in the first place.
I have trackers on both my parents’ phones, and I check them constantly, even though I doubt they’ll be the ones sent after us. I couldn’t get close enough to anyone else’s phone before I left.
“You’re very presumptuous with all of this,” I say. “The question is why.”
“It’s what’s best for you.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
“See, that just proves my point. You keep assuming you know what’s best for us.”
I automatically glance at Ollie in his car seat.
“I can take care of Ollie and me just fine.” Because I have been. For almost a year now, it’s been me. Only me. I know I told myself I should just go along with Ronan for now, take the help, stop fighting every single thing. But this is getting out of hand.
“I’m not saying that you can’t. What I’m saying is that you need a better place to stay, and I have one. It’s practical and makes sense.”
“To you maybe,” I mumble.
“Da, eat eat,” Ollie yells from the back seat.
“Okay, buddy. We’ll eat in just a little bit. How about some fishies as a snack?” I pull out the Ziploc bag of Goldfish crackers for him. We are in a fucking two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. I can’t give these crumb producers to Ollie.
“Ishies!” Ollie cries out and kicks his feet. I can’t let him eat these in this car. “Ishies!”
“Why are you not giving them to him? He’s going to start crying any second now.”
“It’ll make a mess. Maybe I can just give him one at a time.” I say as I hand him a single cracker. He shoves it into his mouth and immediately holds his hand out for another. We stop at a red light, and Ronan turns to me.
“Do you usually just hand him the bag?” I nod as I take out another single cracker. Ronan takes the bag from my hand and gives it to Ollie.
“What the fuck, Ronan? He’s going to get crumbs everywhere.” I reach to take the bag back.
“Then I’ll get the fucking thing cleaned.” He grips my elbow and turns me back around in my seat. “It’s fine.” He takes out his phone and quickly types something in it, finishing just as the light turns green.
“You don’t seem like the type to be okay with crumbs and gooey half-chewed crackers on your seats. I seem to remember you as the guy who looked terrified to have a toddler sitting on your lap. Something about him being covered in spit.”
“I didn’t say I was going to touch it or clean it.”
I have to laugh. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“Certifiable.” He deadpans. I can’t stop myself from laughing again, even if I try. He is so serious all the time, and yet his humor is hilarious. I have always enjoyed dry humor where the joke hits you hard and is delivered with a straight face.
We drive in silence for a few more minutes, Ollie’s happy babbling filling the car. It’s another thing I like about Ronan. He doesn’t talk just to fill the space. He doesn’t force conversation or act like silence is something uncomfortable that needs to be fixed. With him, it’s easy.
By the time we pull up to the building, I’m almost relaxed.
