keep upright.
“Yeah, I kind of figured this was something you did on a
regular basis.” I glanced over my shoulder. “You’re not going to do something
stupid that gets me injured or killed are you? I’m still recovering, remember?”
I didn’t want more stitches.
“Relax. You worry too much.” He pushed us through the broken
door. The shards of glass crunched beneath the wheels and the cart skidded a
little, but he managed to get us outside without tipping the whole thing over.
“Hey, wait! What about my cat? Where are we going?” He was a
crazy man. I had no idea what his intentions were or whether we’d even be back.
We would be back, right? My cat and my things were there. Why had I agreed to this? Because I’m a moron.
“Shhhh... everything’s going to be fine. Your cat has the
best setup, toys, food, water, so she’ll be okay until we return. We’ll only be
as long as it takes for you to liven up a bit.”
He steered us past the cars in the parking lot to the four
lane, normally busy, street out front. “Hang on tight!”
“Wait just—”
But he ignored me and began to run with the cart. The wheels
fought against the momentum, twisting and turning, but they handled my weight
and his persistence. The air whirled around me and whipped my hair across my
eyes.
I brushed the wild strands away, and gripped the sides
tighter as Cole pushed the cart even faster. I was certain shopping carts weren’t
meant for speeds higher than grocery store aisles allowed and Cole was going to
get me killed. Stitches were the least of my problems.
He hopped on the back, adding his weight to the already
burdened cart. He no longer steered the metal contraption on wheels down the
precarious road, but threw his arms out to the side and coasted.
I gripped the cart as though my life depended on it, which at
the moment, it did. This wasn’t fun at all and I wished I’d never agreed to his
stupid games.
“Close your eyes, Tess. Enjoy yourself.”
“I can’t! Jeez. You need to stop!”
He jumped off the cart, but instead of bringing the whole
thing to an end as I had anticipated, he started running again, adding more
speed to the already out-of-hand situation.
“Stop it!” The cart wiggled and the wheels strained to keep
up. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. Death by shopping cart.
“Close your eyes.”
“Heck no!” I yelled over the pounding of his feet on the
pavement and the squeaking of the wheels. I needed my eyes to be open— wide,
wide open.
“Close them.”
“No!” My knuckles whitened.
“Trust me.”
Trust you? Look what trusting him had gotten me into—careening
down the street in a cart that threatened to collapse at any moment. “No!”
“I’m not stopping until you do.” With that, he jerked the
cart to the right, nearly tumbling the whole thing over as it balanced on two
wheels to take the curve in the road.
A few choice words flew past my lips, words I had never, ever, uttered in all my life, but were more than appropriate for this situation.
He laughed. “Seriously, I’ve run marathons—several of them—so
I can do this all day.”
“Okay, okay!” Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be
thy name... I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed it would be over soon, and I wouldn’t
have to add a nasty road rash—or worse—to my list of bodily injuries. This was
complete insanity, but being trapped in a metal basket with a crazy man
steering didn’t leave me with a lot of options.
He kept running, and the wind picked up around me, caressing
my cheeks and messing my hair. Several times I felt myself floating, though the
crisscross pattern of the cart never left my backside. The warmth of the sun
bathed my face, and its light danced across my closed lids as we passed
buildings and alleyways. It was almost like flying—almost.
Abandoned structures and the emptiness of my surroundings
fell away, replaced only by the thumping of my heart, the sound of Cole’s
breathing,
“Yeah, I kind of figured this was something you did on a
regular basis.” I glanced over my shoulder. “You’re not going to do something
stupid that gets me injured or killed are you? I’m still recovering, remember?”
I didn’t want more stitches.
“Relax. You worry too much.” He pushed us through the broken
door. The shards of glass crunched beneath the wheels and the cart skidded a
little, but he managed to get us outside without tipping the whole thing over.
“Hey, wait! What about my cat? Where are we going?” He was a
crazy man. I had no idea what his intentions were or whether we’d even be back.
We would be back, right? My cat and my things were there. Why had I agreed to this? Because I’m a moron.
“Shhhh... everything’s going to be fine. Your cat has the
best setup, toys, food, water, so she’ll be okay until we return. We’ll only be
as long as it takes for you to liven up a bit.”
He steered us past the cars in the parking lot to the four
lane, normally busy, street out front. “Hang on tight!”
“Wait just—”
But he ignored me and began to run with the cart. The wheels
fought against the momentum, twisting and turning, but they handled my weight
and his persistence. The air whirled around me and whipped my hair across my
eyes.
I brushed the wild strands away, and gripped the sides
tighter as Cole pushed the cart even faster. I was certain shopping carts weren’t
meant for speeds higher than grocery store aisles allowed and Cole was going to
get me killed. Stitches were the least of my problems.
He hopped on the back, adding his weight to the already
burdened cart. He no longer steered the metal contraption on wheels down the
precarious road, but threw his arms out to the side and coasted.
I gripped the cart as though my life depended on it, which at
the moment, it did. This wasn’t fun at all and I wished I’d never agreed to his
stupid games.
“Close your eyes, Tess. Enjoy yourself.”
“I can’t! Jeez. You need to stop!”
He jumped off the cart, but instead of bringing the whole
thing to an end as I had anticipated, he started running again, adding more
speed to the already out-of-hand situation.
“Stop it!” The cart wiggled and the wheels strained to keep
up. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. Death by shopping cart.
“Close your eyes.”
“Heck no!” I yelled over the pounding of his feet on the
pavement and the squeaking of the wheels. I needed my eyes to be open— wide,
wide open.
“Close them.”
“No!” My knuckles whitened.
“Trust me.”
Trust you? Look what trusting him had gotten me into—careening
down the street in a cart that threatened to collapse at any moment. “No!”
“I’m not stopping until you do.” With that, he jerked the
cart to the right, nearly tumbling the whole thing over as it balanced on two
wheels to take the curve in the road.
A few choice words flew past my lips, words I had never, ever, uttered in all my life, but were more than appropriate for this situation.
He laughed. “Seriously, I’ve run marathons—several of them—so
I can do this all day.”
“Okay, okay!” Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be
thy name... I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed it would be over soon, and I wouldn’t
have to add a nasty road rash—or worse—to my list of bodily injuries. This was
complete insanity, but being trapped in a metal basket with a crazy man
steering didn’t leave me with a lot of options.
He kept running, and the wind picked up around me, caressing
my cheeks and messing my hair. Several times I felt myself floating, though the
crisscross pattern of the cart never left my backside. The warmth of the sun
bathed my face, and its light danced across my closed lids as we passed
buildings and alleyways. It was almost like flying—almost.
Abandoned structures and the emptiness of my surroundings
fell away, replaced only by the thumping of my heart, the sound of Cole’s
breathing,
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