Elastic Heart

“I don’t need help.” I ripped the door open, causing Law to stumble back. Once inside I slammed the door in his face and pressed lock. As I prepared to put the key in the ignition, there was a light rapping on the window. I turned, my face sour, and saw Law staring inside, his hazel eyes almost puppy-like.

“What?” I growled.

“Will you give me a ride home?” His voice was muffled through the car, but I could tell he was sincere.

“Are you fucking joking?” With Law, I couldn’t be sure.

Shaking his head, he explained, “I took the bus.”

I let my hand fall from the keys, prepared for yet another argument with Law. It seemed like all I was doing now was following Morris and arguing with this new, paradoxical man. When would my life become mine again?

Probably never.

“You did not,” I protested, still locked safely in my car. He opened his mouth to explain but I cut him off. “The buses don’t run this late. Stop lying to me.” The last public transit system usually left around eleven, though it was hard to gauge because public transit in Utah was a joke. Occasionally transit stopped running, just because.

I watched his face carefully. Law still had that five o’clock shadow around his sharp jaw, and I wondered if he had that because he thought it looked cool, or because he was too busy to shave. From the little I knew about him, I decided it could go either way.

“You caught me.” Law grinned. “I just want to talk to you. I’ll even show you where I’m staying.”

I gripped the keys again, getting ready to drive off. “I couldn’t care less about where you’re staying. I couldn’t care less about anything concerning you, really.” I turned my car on, deciding that if I ran over his foot, it would be a bonus.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” Law’s voice sounded over the roar of my maybe-in-need-of-an-oil-change engine. I paused, still keeping the car running.

I didn’t think Law wanted to hurt me. If he wanted to hurt me, he could have done it by now. Clearly he knew how to track me down.

His question appeared to be a simple yes or no answer, but it wasn’t. I hadn’t thought Senator Morris was going to rape me, and look how that turned out. I used to think I understood people’s motives. I used to think it was easy to know good from bad. Now I had no fucking clue.

I had no idea who wanted to hurt me. I had thought I knew who was my friend and who was my enemy; now everything was utterly murky. The old me would have looked at Law and said drool-worthy, kind of weird guy, but totally harmless.

Then again, the old me had looked at Mitch Morris and said kind of handsome dad-figure who is giving you a great recommendation for when you get out of college.

And. Look. How. That. Turned. Out.

I shook my head at Law and drove off.

7:15 Morris gets his coffee. 8:30 Morris meets with advisors. 9:30-11:30 Morris either works from office or meets with volunteers. 12:00-1:00 Morris takes lunch.

Morris, unlike most politicians, took his lunch outside the capitol. That’s when I was going to pounce. He had a favorite place to eat: a little dive down in West Valley. I sat in my car, completely oblivious to the cold, and watched the entrance, waiting for him to walk out. It was almost 12:40 and he usually finished between 12:40 and 12:50. I was all steely composure as I fixed my gaze on the doors. Nothing was going to rattle me.

Gun safely nestled in my lap, I waited. As Morris emerged at exactly 12:45, I got out of my car and walked toward him, gun to my side. Just as I was about to make myself known, someone grabbed me by the elbow and yanked me away. I opened my mouth to yell but a hand covered my lips. Despite planting my feet firmly on the snow-covered asphalt, I was dragged away. I looked up at my captor, sagging a bit when I saw Law. At least I knew the asshole.

I struggled trying to get free, but Law kept me pressed tightly against him. I had to watch limply as Morris made his way out of the restaurant and to his car while Law dragged me further and further away. Morris sat himself in the driver’s seat and I reached a hand out futilely, as if I could yank him away and to my side. I kept my gaze pinned on Morris until Law pulled me all the way around a building, completely out of sight. Nestled between two dumpsters, Law finally let loose his hold of me.

“What the hell are you doing?” he whisper-yelled.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I pushed him until there was a good foot of distance separating us. “Get off me!”

“It looked like you were about to commit murder.” Law folded his arms and inspected me. “I was stopping you from making a huge mistake.”

“You have no idea what I was going to do.” And he didn’t. I wasn’t going to murder Morris, even if that’s what it looked like. I was just going to scare him. I wanted him to know, with no uncertainty, that he hadn’t ruined me.

Law reached for me again. I tried to maneuver away but he was too quick. He clasped a hand around my arm and yanked my gun out of the other. He dragged me back out of the alley and to a black Range Rover. I struggled the entire way, but it was useless, like fighting against a tornado.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hoping my fear wasn’t evident.

“We’re going back to my place,” Law grunted, not even bothering to turn back to me.

“Like hell we are!” Ignoring me, Law opened up the passenger door and pushed me inside.