Violent Things

Bates

We setour trays down on the table we picked out about twenty minutes ago, and my pretty girl still hadn’t touched her food.

She kept glancing across the way, but I couldn’t tell what was so important that it held her attention more than I did.

“Holls?” I asked, reaching over and gently gripping her wrist.

She jerked her arm away instinctively, then blushed as she gave me a sheepish look while she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sorry.”

What the hell is going on?

I did my best to follow her eyes, trying to figure out what it was that had her so held in place. And no matter how hard I looked, I just couldn’t figure it out.

“It’s fine,” I began slowly, “but do you plan on eating something before we leave?”

She tore her eyes away from the other side of the open area, sat up, and picked up her white, plastic fork. I watched as she scooped up some of her rice, then blew out my breath when she dropped it.

“I’ll be right back,” Hollis said as she pushed her chair back and got to her feet. Before I had the chance to ask her how long she’d be gone, she had already made enough distance between us that I’d have to shout it.

I leaned back in my chair and craned my neck, watching her with a growing curiosity inside of me, which spiked when she stopped at a table.

Hollis’ back was to me as she put her hands on the table and leaned down, interrupting the couple.

I got to my feet, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, ready to move if she needed me to.

Hollis Jones had always been a tough girl that could handle herself—I just liked being the muscle whenever the situation called for it.

Not that she ever needed me to be.

The tension in my body eased when she stood back up and crossed her arms over her chest again. I could see her head bobbing as she spoke to the young man at the table, before she shook her head, then turned around.

I dropped down into the chair as quickly as I could. I didn’t want her to know that I was watching. Hollis had always hated having her privacy invaded and this would be no different.

Running a hand back through my hair, I reached for my drink, placed the straw between my lips, and slurped some of the orange soda.

Holls pulled her chair back so violently that she almost threw it across the way. Taking a deep breath when she noticed my arched eyebrow, she sat down again, then reached for her bag.

“I want to leave.”

Her tone was small, desolate, but pulsing with rage which caused me to set my drink down and glance around her again.

“Who’s that?” I asked, nodding at the couple.

“Please, Bates? Can we get boxes for this or something?”

Leaning to the side, I reached into my back pocket and fished out my wallet, handing her a ten-dollar bill before getting to my feet.

“Go grab the boxes. If they charge you, that should be enough.”

“Where are you going?” she asked without looking up at me.

With a grin on my face, I reached down and tilted her chin up toward me, leaned down and kissed her softly.

“To make a new friend. Be back soon.”

“No!” she all but hollered as she stood up so quickly, her chair fell over. “Let’s just get our boxes and leave. I’ll explain once we’re on the beach, okay?”