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Chapter Six
Branson
Adrenaline courses through me as she pulls us out of the long gravel driveway, faint hints of smoke beginning to wisp out from the house. We started the fire in the workroom and basement, covering it in everything flammable we could find. It took some effort, but I managed to drag the cop’s body back into the house to burn along with it. There was nothing we could do about his car, so we just drove it around the back of the barn so it’d be out of sight a bit, but really, it doesn’t matter.
Once this place goes up, this place will be crawling with cops.
“Here we go,” she says in a quiet voice as we turn onto the road. I feel my entire body freeze as I realize this is already the farthest I’ve gone in fifteen years. I look at Mia beside me as she drives. Her blonde hair whips around her face, green eyes focused on the road ahead. A small smile plays on her lips, I’m pretty sure from the arson she just got to commit.
If there’s one thing that’s always been true for her, it’s how much this woman loves her mischief. I think back to our earlier conversation and her acknowledging her urges. I’ve known for a long time that Mia has always had a darkness about her. No, not Mia, Teddy.
After years of being confined mentally and physically, it’s a strange concept to try to control her. I know what it’s like better than anyone how it feels to have someone oppress and push you down. It's maddening to think she was the cause of much of it, yet I still feel guilt at the thought of reciprocating.
There’s a difference between me whipping her ass or ordering her about as my little doll.
Overriding the hint of guilt, though, is logic and sure knowledge. I know the control is what I need to stay sane. After all those years of suffering, of having no power or control, weakness or inability to act is the only thing that could break or kill me now.
I don’t want Mia to try to be someone she’s not, but I don’t think I can take it if, after everything, she’s just like Jane, anyway. It’s not even guilt or a sense of morals or rightness so much as needing to be as far removed from Jane and the things she did as possible.
A normal life may be something I’ll never have, but fuck would it be nice to try.
We stay mostly silent as we drive toward the city and every so often one of us looks back, but we’re far enough we can’t see the smoke anymore. My headache is growing with every second, though, and the outside light I’m so unused to is making it worse.
Mia reaches over to the radio, turning the dial until some music comes on.
“Can we keep that off?” I ask after a moment, my hand on my temple rubbing. She turns to me with a frown but nods and clicks it off.
“Maybe we should go to a doctor,” she says after a moment. “See if we can get you some medication or something to finally help with your headaches.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” I reply even as the migraine grows. “Just get us out of here. I’ll be fine.”
???
I know I should be looking out the windows intently, but the rolling farmland surrounding us holds no real interest for me, and I find myself caught up in my own head. I eventually let her put on quiet music that's easy to tune out. Closing my eyes, I lean against the window, enjoying the cool touch on my forehead.
I know I should probably be thinking about what the hell we are going to do next, but I keep finding myself thinking of our earlier conversation. I always knew that Mia was drawn to killing and death. It's not like I can say her killing that cop was any big surprise. I suppose I just hoped without Jane around, that urge would fade.
Then again, I think of how I felt when I killed Bud. That hit of adrenaline was like nothing I'd ever felt before and even in my limited experiences, I get the sense it's not an easy one to replicate. Beyond that, the sense of rightness in this instance made it easy. Every stab of the blade into his flesh.
I feel my dick twitch at the thought of the knife pressing into skin, at how it felt to wield that sharp edge, and open my eyes with a frown.
Maybe we aren't so different after all.
Looking around, I realize I've had my eyes closed longer than I thought, and the houses are getting closer together. The faint music is still playing, and it takes me a moment to realize that Mia is singing softly along to it. The corner of my mouth turns up as I sit there and watch her, listening to her sing for the first time since we were children.
It isn't until the song ends that she realizes I'm watching her and her cheeks pink lightly, but she smiles.
"Don't stop," I tell her, and her smile grows.
"We're only about twenty minutes out of the city now," she replies through her grin. "We should get some things, find a place to stay for the night."
"Sure," I tell her, sitting back into my seat feeling more at peace, “but keep singing.”
She keeps smiling but obliges me, her voice washing over me. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be enough, and she won't need to kill. And if not? Maybe that isn't as awful as I thought.
???
We pull into a parking lot with small businesses. It's about 5 PM and the sky is beginning to dim. I feel my heart pick up at the sight of people walking around. A woman and a young boy walk by hand in hand and I watch them intently until they pass.
