I don't respond. I don't want to remind her of the fact that she's under the impression that I'm working for Asa, so I'll be paying for our lunch with that same dirty money. Instead, I change the conversation to a lighter subject.
"Tell me about your brother," I say as I steer the car in the direction of the freeway.
"My brother?" she asks, questioning me. "Which one?"
"The one with Aspergers? I don't know a lot about it. I had a neighbor kid back in Sacramento who had it. I didn't know it was something you could overcome, but you said your brother had it...like as in past tense."
Her eyes drop to her lap and she laces her fingers together. "It's not something you can overcome," she says quietly.
But she referred to it in the past tense. Or...I guess she referred to him in the past tense. I'm an insensitive dumbass. Why the hell did I bring it up?
"I'm sorry," I say. I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it. "I'm really sorry," I repeat.
She pulls her hand back to her lap and clears her throat. "It's fine," she says, forcing a smile. "It was a long time ago. Asperger's wasn't the only thing he dealt with, unfortunately."
And on that note, we reach the restaurant. I pull into a parking spot and turn off the car. Neither of us moves. I think she's waiting on me to get out of the car, but I feel like I just ruined her good mood.
"I officially sucked the fun out of that drive," I say. "Got any remedies?"
She laughs lightheartedly and grins. "We could take the writing game to another level," she says. "Try to lighten the mood a little bit. Instead of writing random things without thinking, we could just spend lunch saying random things without thinking."
I nod and gesture toward the restaurant in front of us. "After you," I say. "Walrus tusks cloud my vision like chocolate pudding."
She laughs and opens her door. "One-legged tiger sharks are better for you than vegetables."
* * *
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=================
ASA-8
Chapter Eight
Asa
"Jon!"
I'm gripping my phone so tight, I wouldn't be surprised if it crumpled in my hand. I breathe in through my nose and out my mouth, calming myself, attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt before I completely flip out.
"Jon!"
I finally hear his footsteps bounding up the stairs. My door swings open and he walks into the room. "What the hell is it? I was taking a shit."
I look down at the GPS report on my phone. "What's at 1262 Ricker Road?"
He looks up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers against the doorframe. "Ricker Road," he repeats to himself. "Mostly just restaurants, I think." He looks down at his phone and types in the address. "Why? We got a delivery?"
I shake my head. "Nope. Sloan's on Ricker Road."
Jon cocks his head. "Did your car break down? She need a ride somewhere?"
I roll my eyes. "She doesn't need a fucking ride, dumbass. She's on Ricker Road when she should be on campus. I want to know what the fuck she's doing there and who the fuck she's with."
Realization finally dawns on his face. "Oh, shit. You want to go check it out?" He fingers his phone some more. "Looks like Italian. Something called 'Mi Amore.'"
I toss my phone across the mattress and stand up, pacing the room. "No," I say. "It's half an hour away. Forty-five minutes with traffic. She'll be gone before we even get there." I take a deep breath and grip the bridge of my nose between my fingertips, willing myself to remain calm.
If she's fucking around, I'll find out. And if I find out, she's fucking dead. The bastard she's fucking around with won't be as lucky.
"I'll figure it out," I say to Jon. "Tonight."
* * *
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=================
SLOAN-9
Chapter Nine
Sloan
Carter holds the door open for me. It's the first time I've been inside a restaurant in months; I forgot how good they smell. Thoughts of Asa finding out I'm here keep flashing through my mind, despite doing my best to focus on the fact that I'm just eating lunch. As innocent as I can pretend this is, if Asa found out... I don't even want to think about what Asa would do.