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I groan as my stomach starts to do somersaults at the images plaguing my mind.
It doesn't feel real yet.
A large part of me is expecting to wake up, and all of this has been some horrific nightmare.
I am certain come morning I am going to be getting a slap of reality right across the face.
I don't even have my phone, so I can't check the news or check in with anyone.
Thankfully I haven't told my friends that I'm getting married.
I don't want to have to explain to them what's going on and why I'm marrying a complete stranger. They wouldn't understand, and it would only make things harder.
Part of me can't help but wonder if my dad has been trying to get a hold of me or if he hasn't even thought twice.
I could ask Anthony, but I don't want to be vulnerable around him.
I'm also terrified of what answer he would come back with.
If my dad hasn't even bothered with trying to reach out to me, I don't know if that's something I can handle right now.
I'm playing a very dangerous game where I could convince myself that he loves me.
That he did what he did because he wanted to make sure I was protected and taken care of when he wasn't in this world any longer.
If I discover he hasn't even asked about me, it will pop that bubble of a loving and caring father.
He will become this asshole that only wants to control me and use me for his own gain.
I'm not ready to face that potential reality yet.
It's a few minutes later when the door opens, and Anthony walks in with a takeout bag and his duffle bag.
He places the duffle down on the chair before he brings the food over to me.
"I got you fries with some chicken fingers. I didn't know if you wanted ketchup either, so there are some packets."
"Thanks."
He gives a nod before he goes and gets changed in the bathroom, and part of me had been hoping he would have gotten changed out here.
I mean, who doesn't like dinner and a show?
I pull out my container and see that he has gotten a burger and fries.
It's only a moment or two before he comes out in his own t-shirt and sweatpants.
He looks just as good in them as he did in his suit.
He picks up his food and sits down on the couch with a tired sigh.
"How long do you think it'll be before we get to your family's safe house?" I ask.
"Longer than normal if we could drive straight there. We have to take the scenic route though, just in case we are being followed. It's not ideal, but it's the best chance we have."
"Do you think we're being followed?" I ask, worried now that we aren't safe even away from home.
"I doubt it, but it never hurts to be safe. Or, in our case, paranoid. I'll give it a few days before I reach out to Lorenzo again and see about an update. Assuming I don't hear from him by then. It's possible that Atwell is taken care of before we even reach the safe house."
