Sociopaths In Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

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of his hand and cocked his head, thinking about it. "I don't know
if I'd really call them friends. People like us . . .
well, it's tough to really get close to people, you know?"
    "Business partners?" Erica didn't even know
what she meant by this. 'Business partners' seemed like a very
adult term. Like something a dad would say supposing said father
was responsible and actually available to talk to his child about
his work affairs. Supposing said father actually had work affairs
or even a job. Supposing said father was, you know, there.
    "More like business partners but
. . . well, we don't really do any business. More like
colleagues. You know how you hear about salesmen going to
conventions and trade shows? How it's just, like, a bunch of people
with the same profession sitting around and telling stories? It's
kind of like that. Shared interests. One night and then we'll be
gone."
    "I was just curious. No rush. I'm sure if
you like them, I will too."
    Walt took a right turn onto a road Erica
hadn't seen and slowly crept the car along. She wasn't sure if the
road was even paved. Maybe it wasn't a road. Maybe it was a
driveway. That theory was disproved when she saw a rusty mailbox on
the right and Walt turned toward it. She almost thought it was a
joke or a trick of the eyes. The mailbox said simply, in runny
black letters: THE BOYS. Erica thought this made them seem somehow
sinister.
    The driveway was gravel. It had stopped
misting and the windshield wipers screeched as they raked across
raw glass. Walt flipped them off and patted her on the thigh. Why
couldn't he keep doing that? Why couldn't they just pull over to
the side of the driveway and spend all night exploring each other?
Something she didn't feel like they'd really had the chance to do.
While the previous encounters had been passionate, she had ended up
feeling slightly rushed. She supposed she shouldn't have expected
anything more from someone she had known less than twenty-four
hours. Or, she thought, they could just turn around and go back to
the highway. She really couldn't explain her hesitation at
continuing up the drive. Maybe she didn't like meeting new people.
Maybe she didn't want to share him this early into things. Or maybe
the thought of these people who were referred to and referred to
themselves as the Boys terrified her. She had told Walt she would
like them if he did, but that was a lie. She didn't really like
anyone. When she had first met Walt it seemed okay because she had
convinced herself that maybe she had just stored up all of her love
for him. And she felt like, if he didn't yet love her then at least
he paid attention to her, did things for her. He had set her free
and she saw that as worthy of a certain amount of devotion.
    They drove around a gentle
bend in the driveway and up ahead lay a slouching two-story
farmhouse with a single light on. In front of them, a yellow
security light threw a fuzzy glow over a rusted white van with no
back windows. Rape van , Erica couldn't help thinking. Walt pulled up beside the van,
put the car in park, and hopped out. Erica stepped out into the
damp night, now turned sweet and fragrant, and stood beside Walt,
listening to the quiet dripping of water droplets seeking the
center of the earth and the steady chirping purr of a million
insects. Walt cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted something
that sounded like, " Ah-heee !"
    The sound cut through Erica.
    The next sound was that of screeching metal.
It came from across the back yard that was really more just an
expanse of uncut grass and a rectangle of piercing blue white light
shone from a low barn and expanded until the door was all the way
open. Erica squinted as four figures came from the barn toward
them. She imagined the wet grass squishing under their feet, what
mist remained in the air clinging to their skin and hair.
    Erica moved closer to Walt and tried to take
his hand but he, more or less, slapped her away. Eventually