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He stops at a table where a bookseller is assisting a customer and instructs the bookseller to fix the books I’d knocked off the shelf. Then, he leads me down the hall to the warehouse. I like the musty smell of books here, the pinewood from the crates. There is a draft from the air conditioner, which emits a low hum, and the quiet buzz of the fluorescent lighting. He takes me to a room in the back filled with boxes and clipboards and inventory worksheets stacked on the desk. There is a dry erase calendar on the wall. It’s the long worktable against the sidewall that he wants us to use. He closes the door behind us. He lays me down on the table. Its metallic surface makes me shiver. I feel like I’m in a doctor’s office again. I don’t like that feeling. I am angry all over again. My anger must have shown on my face, because he leans over to kiss me, warmly, gently. He’s standing at the edge of the table. He hooks his hands under my knees, and pulls me closer to him, so that my ass is. At the sight of him, her mouth went dry. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. She was suddenly unsure of her plan. It hit her abruptly, the magnitude of what she was doing and she hesitated, immobile, her foot poised to take that first step into his domain, knowing that this step was much more significant that simply crossing Red’s threshold. If she did this, she would be crossing into his world.Red cocked his head to the side, studying her quizzically, as if both questioning and somehow secretly understanding her resistance. Fortifying herself with another deep breath, she stepped inside.“So….what brings you ‘round to my door this evening?” Red asked convivialy , closing the door behind her and reaching to take her coat.“Oh,.....I, uh….well, actually…..” Lizzie stammered, unbuttoning her coat. This was going to be harder than she thought. In her motel room, when she had made this plan, it had seemed simple and fool-proof. She would show up at his current safe house,.
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