The Rule of Mirrors by Caragh M. O'Brien

Author:Caragh M. O'Brien
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781596439412
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

20

ROSIE

WAFFLES2067

HOURS LATER, OUTSIDE BILLINGS, Montana, Ian and I pull into a gas station. The miles have worn our tension down to a latent threat, like the line of sand mix that edges the road and invites a skid. Ian gets out to pump. I pull on my boots, check my pocket for the vials and syringes, and step out, too.

“You should stay in the car,” Ian says.

“I have to pee. I’ll be right back.” I start walking toward the shop.

“Wait,” he says. “Get me some cigarettes. Camels will do.”

I’m about to remind him that I’m too young to buy tobacco, but he pulls out his wallet and hands me a fifty.

“Can I get some gum?” I ask, keeping it casual. “I’ll share.”

“Sure. Make it sugarless.”

I pivot and start away again, feeling with each footstep that he’s following me with his possessive, controlling gaze. I have one chance, maybe a five-minute window, to escape from him.

As I head inside, a bell jingles over the door. A small, dark woman in a brown sari is reading a fat hardcover behind the register.

“Can I help you?” she asks in an Indian accent, without looking up.

“Bathroom?” I ask.

“On the left.”

I look down the aisle of chips to check for a back door out of the shop. I glance back at her book, noting the plastic wrap.

“Is there a library near here?” I ask. “Don’t point.”

She looks up for the first time, her face expressionless. I subtly jerk my head toward the car outside.

“My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I read,” I add.

Her gaze shifts outside for a moment and then back to me. “Take a right out of the lot and go two blocks. It’s on the right. You can’t miss it.”

I slide the fifty across to her. “Delay him as long as you can, okay?”

She spread-eagles her book on the counter. “I shall call the police.”

“No!” I say. “Please. Just delay him and don’t tell him where I went.”

I back a step away from her and take a last look at Ian, who is still filling the gas. Then I bolt out the back door.

I make it into the alley and cut behind a row of garbage dumpsters before I have to stop. My heart is ready to explode. This is preposterous. I have zero stamina. Panting, I peek back to see if Ian is facing my direction, and when he isn’t, I run across a gap to hide behind the next building. Come on, I urge myself, but I can only manage a fast walk along the alley that parallels the main road. Finally, three blocks down, I find a modest cement building with a flagpole and a couple of mailboxes out front. I hurry inside.

The library is an oasis of calm, with worn carpet and soft lighting, but I’m terrified that Ian will follow right behind me. I dive into the women’s bathroom and think hard. Who do I have to call? My family? No. Linus? No. Burnham?

The thought of him tantalizes.

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