Read Online Fighting by Cat Phoenix - Free Book Online

attention, so I suppressed it.  We drove through the backwoods roads and
listened to the loud silence that only a modern, sound proofed car and two
people who absolutely refuse to speak to each other can produce.  It consisted
mostly of breathing and the occasional grinding of teeth. 
    "How
far out is the closest store?" I asked thirty minutes in.
    "Hour,
fifteen minutes."  His tone was detached but his voice was pleasantly deep
and I asked another question before I was able to stop myself.
    "Mom
and Pop store?"
    "Super
store."
    We
rode in silence for another ten minutes before I had to do something about it. 
I flipped on the radio and scanned the frequencies until I set it on a station
playing Pearl Jam.  I didn't bother to ask if he wanted to listen to it or
not.  A worthy adversary does not ask polite questions.  They don't ask any
questions at all, as a matter of fact.  In the movies, at least.  They straight
up tell you shit.  Like, "This is going to hurt."  And, "You're
going to tell me where the money is."  Can't forget classic ones like,
"I want you to come work for me."
    Wait,
why does that last one sound so familiar?
    I
studied Ethan in my peripheral vision.  He drove like he did everything else:
confidently.  He had his right hand on the center of the wheel and his left arm
resting on his leg, his fingers curling around his knee.  His entire body was
turned slightly away from me.  Even his head was tilted slightly to the left so
I saw more of his jaw than his eyes.  He was shutting me out, even at a
subconscious level. 
    And
then I looked down at myself and saw that I was basically a mirror image of
him.  I had my feet tucked under my legs, with my knees pointed toward the door
and my body angled toward the window. 
    We
were like magnets, repelled against each other. 
    Eventually,
we hit a town big enough to operate a super store and keep it in steady
business.  We walked in side by side and I took everything in.  I had only been
at the compound for a couple of weeks of training, but I also had twenty one
years of being a generally observant person so it wasn't such a stretch that I
was already sharpening that particular skill. 
    Ethan
grabbed a push cart and withdrew the grocery list from his pocket.  He glanced
at it and then handed it to me.  Our fingers brushed when he handed it off, and
as he put the first item in the cart, I thought about how this was a normal,
cozy thing for a couple to do.  And being two people shopping together, I was
sure that we appeared to be a couple, albeit a fighting one with stiff postures
and safe distances between us.
    And
that's when I started noticing women noticing Ethan.  We passed more than one
who didn't hide that they were openly checking him out.  We passed one woman
who ran her fingers through her hair like she was preparing to approach him. 
Then her eyes flicked to mine and she changed her mind, but it was painfully
obvious she wanted to talk to him.  I figured I'd get a lot of nasty looks for
being with him, but mostly it was like I wasn't even there at all.  If Ethan
saw any of this happening, he gave no indication of it.  He kept an eye on me
while I watched them.  A small, obviously perverse part of me was a little
pleased about that. 
    And
then I wondered if he was absorbing our environment as much as I was.  I looked
at him in contemplation as he bent slightly at the waist to pick through the
tomatoes.  I was beside of him, picking through the onions.  He caught my eyes
as he turned to place a bag of tomatoes in the cart. 
    When
I didn't immediately look or move away, he asked warily, "What?"
    I
hesitated and then faced him square on.  I saw him take in my body language and
brace himself further.
    "What
color was the hat of the old lady sitting at the bench at the entrance of the
store?"
    "Green."
    "How
many cashiers were at their registers?"
    "Four,
that I could see."
    "Where
are the exits in this building?"
    He
turned his