The sound never ceases. I swear it's splashing.
I reach for the knob. It's unlocked. I push it open.
Silvia is standing at the bathroom vanity, fist around a black rag submerged in the filled sink. Wet black rags at her feet.
She stares at me, horror-struck.
“What are you—” I still. Then my stomach heaves a little. “Oh, good god, Silvia.”
I shove her away from the sink.
She stumbles back into the wall, still gaping at me. I gaze down at the rags on the floor.
Not rags. Puppies. Kittens. I don't know what they are, but they're not alive anymore.
One is limp in the plugged sink.
I can't formulate a coherent sentence to say.
Did Silvia really just drown a litter of animals in the hotel bathroom?
“We gotta get out of here,” I say. “Put them in a bag, and we'll toss them.”
I walk away before I can hear myself speak. Before I fully comprehend what just happened.
***
I dump the plastic bag of soggy dead furry things in a ditch, fill the gas tank, then floor it toward Danville, Virginia. If we weren't already so close, I would turn around. I can only hope Doctor Kerr makes this trip worthwhile. I can't imagine anything she can say that will make me feel it was, though. Not anymore.
I have now seen first-hand what sort of mental health case Silvia is, and that does nothing for my enthusiasm about our future arrangement.
Karl is about money. His daughter is something else entirely. And I have no idea what.
I blast the radio. We drive straight through all eight hours. Silvia never asks to stop, and it's for the best. I'm hard-pressed not to shove her out of the moving vehicle as it is. Leaving her at a convenience store wouldn't make me even break a sweat.
Danville is a small, humid town but with rich scenery. I would appreciate it more if my mind wasn't still flashing with Silvia's failed swimming lessons.
Even though the sun is just starting to set, I have no desire to show up at Patricia Kerr's door. I haven't even showered in nearly two days.
I still don't have a clue what to do with Silvia. I'm concerned if I turn away for a few minutes, she'll submerge something else. Maybe a child. Nothing seems beyond her.
I book the hotel room on my credit card—well, Ralf's credit card—because I really couldn't give a fuck what Karl thinks right now. He knows I'm here with Silvia, so it doesn't matter whose card we use. I don't want anything that has touched her claws.
Key cards in hand, I storm to the car, grab my own bag and wait as she struggles with two of hers. Then I nod toward the hotel and fall behind her as she unlocks the door.
I sling my bag onto one of the beds and turn to Silvia.
“Sit.” I point at the other bed. “Sit there and do not move.”
She drops to the mattress, feet planted on the floor, and stares at me. I bet that's how she looked at those kittens before she snatched them up for their eternal bath.
I unpack clean clothes from my bag and head for the shower.
“I don't see what the big deal is,” Silvia says.
She hasn't spoken since Nashville, nearly ten hours ago. I was hoping she had forgotten how.
I face her, eyes narrowed.
Her gaze meets mine. “Explain yourself.”
I snap straight. “Explain myself? I have to explain myself? I think you're a little fuckin' confused on what happened. Let me recap. You drowned a litter of kittens in the hotel sink. Drowned. A litter. Of Kittens.”
She flutters her eyes. “You kill all the time.”
My jaw drops.
“Because I have to!” I growl. “What part of this whole thing don't you get? Your father orders the kills, not me!”
She shrugs. “You would do it, anyway.”
I want to scream at her. But when I speak, my voice is surprisingly even.
“No, I wouldn't. If I could have anything, Silvia, it would be to not have to obey another command again.”
I head into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. If she's smart, she won't speak to me for a long time.
I had been wrong about her. Completely wrong. I'm not just the boy she grew up with.
I'm everything she can't wait to experience: travel, sex, and gratuitous killing.
***
When I wake in the morning, Silvia is still asleep in her bed. Thankfully. I pick up my phone from the nightstand and check my text messages.
Syd had left one around midnight, but I must have been out cold. I tap the icon.
I don't mean to sound needy, but are you going to be home soon?
I give a weak smile and type, Didn't see your message last night. You can be needy all you want. Just arrived in Virginia. I'll be home as soon as I can.
She replies, Sorry, had a rough night. It's good now.
I resent the fact that she needed me, and I wasn't even in the same state. Instead, I'm stuck on a road trip with Bathory. I'm sick of everything. As soon as we meet Patricia Kerr, I'm flying back to Phoenix. Screw the car. And screw Silvia.
I use my phone to find the nearest airport and give them a call. Twenty minutes later, I have two tickets booked for the morning.