Page 42 of Where Roads Lead

“Yeah, I’m sure you were,” he deadpanned.

“I was!”

“Okay. Then where are the batteries?” He raised his brows.

“What?”

“You said you’re getting to it, right?”

I nodded.

“So, where are the batteries you bought to put in it?”

I let out a huff. “Don’t they come with it?”

He let out a weary exhale.

“Let me see that,” I muttered, stretching my body across the table to grab it.

I turned it over in my hands, scanning the words on the back until I landed on that dreaded phrase: batteries not included.

Scoffing, I slammed it back down onto the table.

“Well, that’s just stupid!” I exclaimed. “They make you pay thirty bucks for the thing and don’t even include the component that makes it functional?”

Will shook his head, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a case of AA batteries and a pocket knife before slicing open the package.

“I assume you don’t have a screwdriver either?” he asked.

Damn, I didn’t even think of that.

“I’m sure there’s one around here somewhere,” I said sheepishly.

He held direct eye contact with me as he reached back into his pocket and pulled out a screwdriver.

Okay, now he was getting ridiculous.

“Do you always come this prepared?” I asked, watching his hands work.

He ignored me, popping the batteries in the back before screwing it closed again.

“Or make house calls for that matter?”

He pressed a button and the entire kitchen was filled with the incessant beeping of the machine screeching out.

“That’s loud.” I made a face.

“That keeps you alive.”

“That, and you, apparently.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” I hurried to add, because really, I was grateful he was going out of his way to do all this for me.

But I did feel a little frustrated knowing that it was just another thing on his plate he had to do and was probably adding to his ever-growing resentment toward me.

“Well, if that’s all…” I said, hoping to get him out before he found some other way to be overly useful.