4
DAWN
I don’t think I fell asleep, but when we finally turn off the main road and up the driveway toward his house, it seems as if we’ve been on the road a long time — as if we’ve traveled not only over miles but over years. That sensation of him being far older than I am is probably true, I realize, and it makes me feel that much younger in comparison.
The difference is, one day I’ll die.
Hopefully not today. But the surroundings are very “horror movie-esque,” and as a pretty girl with a decent rack, I’m probably first on the kill list. Enormous oaks encroach on the long gravel drive, a tunnel of leaves and wood, the shadows full of watchful eyes.
Silas parks the motorcycle near the house, and I climb off the bike, my spine still vibrating like I’ve been sitting on a washing machine
