Page 30 of UNAwere

When I open the door, Briggs is waiting by the bed. His nostrils are flared, and his fingers have a white-knuckle grip over the handle of my bag. He moves to the front door and opens it to fresh air before I get close, keeping it wedged open with his boot so I can pass through. He’s breathing in quick, short bursts again, and I wonder whether he’s into breathing meditation techniques.

‘Are you doing that air-packing thing?’ I ask when we’re in the car. Despite my mood, I’m too curious not to ask.

‘What?’

‘The quick little breaths you take? Is it that air-packing thing that divers do?’

‘Lung packing,’ he corrects. ‘And no, I don’t see why I’d be doing that, as I’m not about to free-dive into water.’

‘Sorry I asked,’ I say dryly.

He sighs, turning the air vents towards him so they’re blasting into his face. It can’t be comfortable, but he doesn’t seem to care.

I leave him to it. I’m still not in the mood to talk, and I don’t have the capacity to deal with his grumpiness and pass it off as just him. At the moment, I feel like I’d take a smile from him as an insult and simply burst into tears.

It reaches midday when Briggs takes an exit off the highway and drives us into a town that’s a lot bigger than the ones we’ve been passing through. I spy a welcome sign, framed by the drooping branches of a tree, and read the name: Haven. Judging by the crescent moon carved into the sign’s wood, it looks like we’re still in Luminaire territory.

I frown when Briggs drives the truck towards a large parking lot, surrounded by several different types of fast-food outlets. There’s fried chicken, burgers, tacos, hot dogs…

I glance at him. ‘What’s this?’

‘Show me.’

‘What?’

He nods at the buildings sitting in front of us. They’re all different shapes and sizes, and most have a red brick veneer. ‘Take your pick and show me how good the food is.’

I stare at him. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Do you have to question it?’ he asks. ‘Why can’t you just say thank you and do what I’m asking of you?’

‘Because you’re a grumble bum and you don’t do anything simply to be nice.‘

‘Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do,’ he murmurs, studying my face.

I shift my gaze away, blinking. I’m frozen in my seat. Not just by all the choices in front of me but by the kindness he’s showing me. I’m certain none of these fast-food joints are pre-approved.

I press back a small smile. ‘Tacos.’

‘Tacos? You’re sure?’ He switches off the engine.

‘Yeah.’

His mouth twitches. ‘Alright, Red. Let’s have some tacos.’

He gets out and comes around to my side of the car, opening the door for me. I raise my brows.

‘No security checks first?’

He shakes his head. ‘Just stay close.’

I feel his hand on the small of my back as he follows me towards the restaurant, and my skin rises into goose flesh. It drops away, and I bite down on my tongue, ignoring the feeling, and letting him open the door for me as we step inside.

We get a booth and order pulled beef tacos and two colas. My stomach is rumbling, and I’m rocking back and forth in my seat, eager to eat. When I glance back at Briggs, he’s watching me across the table.

‘What?’ I ask, feeling my cheeks heat.

‘Tell me what I have to do,’ he says. He squints at the bottles of hot sauce on the table. ‘I’m assuming I need to use these?’