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"Who iswe, Bellamy?" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue felt comfortable and odd at the sametime.
"I'll tell you when we get there." He refocused on the road, flicking his blinker again, to the right this time, and maneuvering onto a narrow stretch of road with twolanes.
"As long as I'm not going to be trussed up like a turkey when I get there and ransomed off," Igrumbled.
"Sweetheart, you don't have any money." He sounded frustrated, exasperated. I could relate and it just made me want to pummel him. Not that it would do much good. He was a lot bigger than me and the one time I had hit someone, I didn't even know how to hold my fist. I stroked my thumb in apology for earlier and it throbbed in response. "It's part of the reason why we picked you. We have something to offer you." I opened my mouth again but he spoke before I could utter a word. "No, please, no more questions. Wait until we getthere."
"Fine," Isaid.
I folded my arms over my chest, sliding even further down in my seat. I faced the window once more and stared hard, trying to fixate my attention. Trees passed. The car jerked and moved over rough pavement, the shock absorbers making me feel as though I were riding in a private, quiet, train. Every now and then, Bellamy would slow or turn. I tried to count the turns but forgot them almost as quickly as he made them. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Even if I were to be kidnapped, it's not like anyone would really be worried about me athome.
Bellamy's cell buzzed in the console and I ignored it, keeping my eyes trained on the sky. It buzzed again and finally, I deigned to glance at it. The screen was lit up with not one or two, but four text messages, back to back, and the name reflected back was familiar. The phone vibrated once more as another message came through and Bellamy reached for it. I snatched it before he could touch it and though his lips quirked, he didn't say anything. I unlocked the phone and clicked on the last message before scrolling up and reading from the latest unreadtext.
Marv:Plans changed, call me if ur notdriving.
Finally, I thought, someone understands the ‘no using cell phones while driving’rules.
Marv:Knix texted me. He and Tex are alreadythere.
Marv:Yo, I might need a pickup.
Marv:Need pick up. @ Mom andDads.
The last text had been sent only minutes before. I wondered if we were already too far awaythough.
"Marv says he needs you to pick him up," Irelayed.
Bellamy inclined his head, nodding. "Did he say where hewas?"
"At his Mom and Dad's." I watched Bellamy for his reaction. He simply bent his head and continued watching the road. I guessed we were already on theway.
Bellamy:Hey, it's Harlow. Bellamy's driving, but we'll be theresoon.
Marv:U not letting him use hisphone?
I sighed, maybe I thought too soon about someone else understanding roads as non-texting zones. I simply repeated a portion of the lasttext.
Bellamy:He'sdriving.
Marv:Good girl. C usoon.
The way his praise made me smile should have bothered me, but it didn't. Oddly enough, that didn't bother me either. I was just happy to have him thinking of something other than the incident withCleo.
There was scarcely any traffic on the road. The trees, large and beautifully kept palms swaying in the wind, towered over us. Every so often we would pass what appeared to be houses built on stilts. I knew these. They weren't really houses, more like mansions. Some were blue and brightly painted with circular driveways and fountains at the center of their yards. Some were partially obscured by short brick walls and irongates.
About twenty minutes into the lavish community, the BMW slowed and I sat up to see which house we were stopping at. Bellamy turned into one of the larger stilt homes. It was flanked by a brick wall and an iron gate in the middle. Bellamy reached for his visor and pressed a button there. The gates parted, swinginginward.
He rolled down the driveway slowly, coasting to a full stop in front of a large yellow mansion. There was a set of slightly curved, white stairs leading down from the front door with the same iron rails. Beneath the house were sets of wide, ornately carved beams that held the structure above ground. It looked so elegant, it was difficult to imagine the kind of strength built in and the intelligence used to create such amasterpiece.
The front door opened and Marv stepped out, followed by a short, older woman with smooth blonde hair contained beneath a colorfully adorned, floppy sunhat. She kissed his cheek and waved towards the car before striding back into the house and closing the door. It wasn't until Marv made his way down the steps that I realized he would probably want the front seat. I unbuckled my seatbelt.
"What are you doing?" Bellamy looked alarmed as I loosened the strap across my chest and pushed it towards thedoor.
"Moving," I said. "He probably wants the front seat. It'shiscar, after all." He visibly relaxed,sighing.
"Oh, no, don't worry about it. Put your seat belt back on. Don't get out of thecar."
"But–" The door behind me opened, interrupting any furtherprotests.
