Possessed Soul

Chapter 57

Chapter 57

"Umm, Sage?"

She whipped her head toward me, and in the process her hair whacked me across the face.

"What exactly did you tell Ryan?" I enquired, with knitted eyebrows. "You know, so that he allowed you to leave," I clarified, when she remained mute.

"All you men are the same." She crossed her arms around her tiny body, making me feel like she was getting defensive; it was easier for her to be defensive than show how deflated and empty she felt. "You all think that women belong to men. I'm not his possession. I don't need to ask him permission for anything."

"Sorry for asking." I curled my hands around the steering wheel and tightened my grip until my knuckles turned white. "You should have at least told him something. He might think I've kidnapped you with the sole purpose of taking advantage of you."

" Oh," she breathed. I could tell there was something else she wanted to say, but chose to bite the inside of her cheek instead.

We had stolen Grace's car. Maybe stolen wasn't the right word, as we were merely borrowing the car. The red Toyota wasn't as slow as she had made it out to be. It was relatively fast, and I even took the liberty of opening the window. Sure, it was winter, but the cool air woke up my sleep deprived brain.

I knew Sage hated me looking at her while I drove, but I risked a peek at her face. The midday light hit her face in a distracting way, illuminating her hazel eyes that looked duller than usual. I wondered what it would take to brighten her eyes again, to put the sparkle back in them. Her hair was messy, and the wind wasn't helping, I smiled at the frustrated look on her face as she tried to smooth her hair down.

"You know where you're going, right?" she asked, not making eye contact with me. I don't think she realised I was looking at her; either that or she didn't care and had accepted my bad driving habits.

"Don't doubt me," I ordered, not with enough dominance to scare her, but enough to get her to take my words to heart.

"I wasn't doubting you," she protested, in a very low voice. "I trust you..." she hesitated slightly, before carrying on, "with my life."

I acted like I didn't hear her and instead focused on the road ahead.

The road was quiet...despite the fact that there was some sort of procession directly in front of us, forcing me to slow my pace. I didn't toot my horn, since the large black hearse ahead of us confirmed that it was a funeral procession, and I didn't want to be disrespectful to the dead. Why did something like this happen when we were in a rush?

I wasn't superstitious or anything, but maybe this was a sign. Right now, we were chasing death and it didn't look like we would be able to evade death much longer.

"Have you thought about how we're getting in?" Sage asked me.

"I don't think getting in is the problem," I responded, running a hand through my hair. "The problem is getting out."

"Okay." She furrowed her eyebrows and I noticed that the shadows of her eyelashes formed crescent shapes on her cheek bones. 'Then how do we get out.?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I confessed. She didn't say anything, and the silence soon became too foreboding for me to handle. "There's something I wanted to ask you." I waited a couple of seconds for her to give me the go-ahead, but she only looked at me intently, blinking rapidly, as if she was desperately trying to focus on what I was saying. I reached into my pocket and handed her the picture I had found on the floor at her house.

Her reaction was minimal, if that much. "How did you get this?" She wasn't the least bit shocked, so she must have known about this.

"Why was there a picture of Grace at your house?" I enquired, watching as her thumb grazed over the picture, as if she was feeling the texture. She tried to rub the footprint off the photograph with her sleeve, but then gave up when the stain stuck.