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I step into the garage,staring at the assortment of cars lined up. They are gorgeous, but they aren’t mine. Not really. I know what Connor said to me a few weeks ago, but the way things change around here, it would be a good idea for me not to get too comfortable. He might change his mind on a whim.
I walk to the end of the long room and find my car. My trusty, rusty, old car that hasn’t failed me yet. I smile, running a hand down it. I remember how hard I worked to buy it, saving everything I could, and I was so proud to have something of my own. I need to remember where I came from. Remember who I was before all of this happened to me.
I open the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, and I’m relieved to find the keys sitting on the console. I crank the car, and it starts. I run my hands over the steering wheel, loving the feel of it beneath my palms, and then I look up, about to put it in drive, then realize the garage door isn’t up.
I go to get out of the car, but the door in front of me starts to rise. I glance over and see Fernando standing there, hand on one of the many buttons at the entrance of the garage. We watch each other for a moment, and I study his young face. I can’t imagine what he’s seen in his few years on this earth, but I’m glad his dad found Bertrand, if only so he could have Connor now. If he’s going to be involved in this life, he has us behind him.
I wave him over, and after a brief hesitation, he comes to stand beside my window. I roll it down and peer up at him.
“Get in,” I say, and he watches me for a moment, as if waiting for me to say I’m joking. “Come on.” I lean over, taking some papers from the passenger seat, and pat it.
He slowly rounds the front of the car and opens the door, then slides into the seat next to me. Once he shuts the door and puts his seat belt on, I hit the accelerator, and we peel out of the garage.
I laugh, enjoying the freedom, but I sense Fernando’s eyes on me. No doubt wondering why he’s in the car with me or where we are headed.
We ride in silence for a bit, passing by men working at the end of the drive, erecting a guard shack. It’s about time that Connor thought about further protection. I’m surprised that Bertrand didn’t already have those safeguards in place, but it’s not confusing to me. He was an arrogant man. He probably thought no one would dare attack him.
Especially a woman.
“I want to thank you,” Fernando says.
I glance at him, then look back at the road. “For what?”
“Taking care of my sister.”
I open my mouth in shock, then shut it, looking at him again. He’s watching me, and I nod once.
“You’re welcome. How did you know?”
“She left me a note and number with Brigette. And I found her at a motel outside of Heywood. She said you had been helping her.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“She asked me not to. She didn’t want to get you in trouble. You are bringing her to the house, aren’t you?”
“Have you been eavesdropping?” I ask, a smile on my face, letting him know I’m not angry.
“I didn’t mean to. I was passing the kitchen earlier.”
“Why didn’t you try to help her?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I’m afraid I’ve upset him. I don’t mean to call him out. I know it’s tricky to navigate these types of situations. But she is his sister after all, and she came to him for help.
I take a turn and stop at a red light, waiting for him to reply.
“I was going to when I went to meet her, and then she told me you were paying for her room and didn’t want anyone to know. Connor wasn’t …” He stops for a moment.
My fingers clench the wheel. I don’t want him to speak badly of what Connor did even though I know it was bad. But he did have his reasons for doing it.
“I know why he didn’t let her stay at the house, and I don’t blame him for it. But I was angry for a bit. And I wanted to help, but I didn’t want you to get found out. So, I stayed behind the scenes, checking in with Fran, and when she was fine, I was fine. I planned on doing something soon so she wouldn’t have to stay in that motel for much longer.”
“What did you plan on doing?”
“I guess getting on my hands and knees and begging for asylum for her,” he says, looking over at me, a smile sneaking across his handsome face. “Thanks for saving me from having to do that.”
I laugh, and the mood in the car lightens. After the darkness we’ve experienced, I take joy in the moments like this, where I can be happy that things are working out.
“How old are you?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
