11. We Don't Like Paula

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Esme gripped the steering wheel like she meant to drag it down to hell with her. Maybe if she squeezed hard enough it would shatter along with the dreamworld she'd somehow stumbled into. A tiny conga line was making its way across her head from ear to ear. In the back of her mind, she was aware of every forming bruise and strained muscle screaming for attention. She wasn't sure how much longer she could ignore them.

"Turn right up ahead," Easton directed from the backseat. He'd at least stopped leaning forward to point the directions to her.

"You could just tell me where I'm going," Esme suggested. In the passenger seat beside her, Nevaeh was still out cold. Easton had found a first aid kit in the glove compartment and bandaged her forehead, so the bleeding had stopped at least. She had offered to bandage Easton up as well, but he insisted they keep moving.

Paula could deal with her headache, or preferably fall out of the moving car.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't know how to get there, Essie," Easton sighed.

"Would you stop calling me that?" Esme grumbled.

"I figured Essie was better than darling, but if you'd prefer that," he teased. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned back in his seat. Most of his attention stayed on Paula, who he'd tied to the safety bar above her door. He only spared Esme a passing smirk.

"Esme will do just fine, unless you'd like to explain the agent 23 bit," Esme countered. She slowed to a stop and used the opportunity to turn in her seat and look at him like a mom turning to discipline her child. "Is that why I've had people following me all over creation lately?"

"It is."

"You answered that much faster than I expected." She turned back around to face the road.

"I would have had to tell you sooner or later, and I was never good at keeping things from you," he sighed.

The world passed by as they drove. The only noises in the car came from Easton's occasional course corrections and a shuffle from one of the two unconscious women. The radio had only caught static, and Esme made the command decision to keep it off. The shops and businesses lining the streets gave way to houses after a while and Esme slowed to a stop.

"I need you to drive faster, not slower," Easton mumbled. His eyelids fluttered back open from an unexpected wave of exhaustion. After a quick glance at Paula, he leaned forward over the center console to get Esme's attention. "Let's go."

"I have to get my cat, and let my parents know I'm ok, I should also cancel my meetings," Esme rattled off the list of things she needed. They'd been gnawing at her the entire ride, but the fading adrenaline was giving the panic room to grow.

"We are not going to your parents," Easton stated.

"I can't just run off and not tell them where I'm going," she countered. The car revved from her indecisive foot tapping of the pedal.

"You can, and you're going to. Deviating from my plan will get one of us killed."

"Paula can be the sacrifice then," Esme offered. She felt pleased to see the man suppress a laugh.

"Just drive Esme, I promise we'll explain everything when we're safe." Easton tapped her leg, trying to get her moving again. He sighed when she didn't do anything. "I will send someone to your house to feed your cat and make sure he's not causing a fuss. Damn Teebs."

"Don't curse my cat, you don't even know him," Esme huffed. Though she was reluctant to do so, she moved back onto the main road. It was faster now that they'd left the busier streets of downtown but that only made Esme look around corners more. Every alley and driveway looked like a threat. The couple out running with their dog looked especially suspicious. Who smiled while running anyway?

"Eventually you're going to stop questioning how much I know about you. I'm really looking forward to that," Easton chuckled. He'd moved back to sitting properly in his seat beside Paula.

"What about Paula? She seems to know me too," Esme's eyes flicked to Paula in the rearview mirror.

"She doesn't know anything about you, at least not anything more than your habits and routines and morals."

"That's... that's a lot, Easton," she whispered. What else was there to know about someone beyond that? The woman basically knew how to be Esme, at least on the surface.

"Try not to think about it too much," he said. "We've all been watching you for a while now. It would be weird if we didn't know that much about you."

"We?" Esme screeched. The car swerved and Easton's string of curses was a match for the cars that honked at the whizzed by. She steadied the car but her breathing still came in sharp ragged pants.

"Would you stop driving like a lunatic!" Easton snapped.

"Would you explain why people have been watching me?" she shouted back. "What exactly have you been watching? My shitty year of recovering from a car crash? My weekly breakdowns at my parents' home? My life is not interesting enough for people to be watching it."

"First off, you weren't in a car crash. But if you keep driving like this we will be," Easton gripped the door handle, eyes wide as he watched her trembling hands on the steering wheel.

"And?" Esme prompted.

"And what?"

"Usually when someone says first off, there's a second thing to follow, sometimes a third. Do I really have to explain how counting works?"

Easton rolled his eyes and checked his seatbelt. "Second, those aren't your parents."

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