Bad Seed

“Feel better?” he asked.

“What?”

“Did you get that stubborn streak out of your system?” he asked.

“Yeah. I did,” I said, a smile coming to my face.

He sat on the edge of my bed and pulled the silver rolling table up to him. He had ordered a massive amount of food, but it shouldn’t have shocked me. He was a muscular man, and I assumed his body required the calories to keep up. We ate in silence and it was killing me.

Was it possibly the fact that we were just doing some monotonous normal thing that was making it weird? Our other encounters had all included some sort of drama: a fight, crazy sex, my attack. Maybe I was worried that I wasn’t interesting enough to make him stay after all the excitement died down.

“So, you were going to surprise me?” I asked.

He stopped eating and looked over at me before he put his sandwich down.

“I was,” Grant said. “I was maybe a half an hour out from your place.”

“I’m really glad you were,” I said.

“I’m not gonna lie, when I got your text telling me you needed me, I thought you meant for sex. I nearly drove off the damn road. It was when you didn’t answer your phone afterward when I called that I got worried.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No. You’re not allowed to apologize for what that piece of shit did to you. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

“Me too.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I mulled the question around in my mind as I finished off my soup.

“Not really,” I said, yawning. “I’m getting tired.”

“Good. You need to get as much rest as possible.”

He took the bowl from my lap, and I slid down underneath the covers with the smell of steak sandwiches in my nose. I slept hard and long. I was thankful that I didn’t have any nightmares this time. I woke up with my body curled up in the comforter and my face buried between two pillows, and the sound of plastic bags caught my attention.

I turned my face and saw Grant dropping some things onto the table, and it caused me to sit up.

“What’s all that?” I asked.

Grant turned to look at me as I sat up in bed.

“Where’d you go?”

“A few places. I went back and got your bag from the hospital. I used your keys to get into your trunk. Grabbed your phone. Charger. Things like that. I also brought your car back to the hotel, so you’ll have it here in case you want it.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“I also went to some stores and grabbed you a few things: some toiletries to wash up with, some clean clothes. I went by your apartment, but it’s still taped off so I couldn't get inside.”

“You bought stuff for me?” I asked. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not going to go broke grabbing you a few things. You don’t need to worry about it.”

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. My vision was focusing, and I saw the sheer number of bags on the table. He hadn’t bought a few things, he’d bought a lot of stuff. I was grateful, and even slightly impressed, but still the thought of him spending so much money sat weirdly with me.

“It’s not a big deal,” Grant said as he turned to look at me. “I figured you’d want out of the clothes you have on now.”