Viscious

Bittersweet.

It's bittersweet, you know? Moving, packing up. Having to put the pieces of you past, or previous life into a box to start new. The emotions I had unpacking my things from leaving Dallas, have mutated, and the new form of them leaves me sullen here. There was never much, but the photo albums haunt me when they fall open and reveal a photo of mom and I, or a few of Dallas I hadn't gotten to toss yet.

Kellan decided we'd start with my house though. Smaller, fewer things. I'm still worn out and tender from the ridiculous day I had yesterday and lack of rest. This slows me, almost as much as these damn padded cuffs. Kellan doesn't complain though, he just helps me with things that prove difficult. Like taking away the albums and putting them away, or taking large sections of clothes with hangers down from the closet.

He decides we'll leave the futon, book shelves, and even the box spring and mattress as they are big and we won't need them. We focus on my few tiny heirlooms, pictures, clothes, workout gear, little trinkets and supplies. The food is long since gone, so there's no worries of it ruining or being left behind.

We are done much sooner than expected, and Kellan sets a rental sign out front with contact information. The grass is still freshly mowed, and the house looks just as clean and spruced as it did after I had fixed it up. It is depressing, to see that even with all of my things boxed and by the front door, it all will look and remain the same without me.

"Stop for a moment." Kellan instructs, pulling on the piece of chain connected to my cuffs.

I stop in my tracks, studying the area around me wishing I could just run. I would if the situation was right, but with him armed and me cuffed and in flip flops I'd likely trip and be shot before I could get too far. He stands, inspecting the woodline until he finds a lily. He picks it up and snaps the flower clean from the stalk before cramming it behind my ear. He gives a deep chuckle and genuine grin before nudging me back towards his house.

Inside, he provides more boxes and totes and gives me sections to pack away while he works close by. I take my time analyzing everything I touch or pack in hopes of finding information or well, anything useful. I make hideous faces as I stumble into dirty magazines and I scrunch my face up before tossi g them haphazardly into the box with books and papers.

"Before you get judgmental, most of those were here when I moved in."

"Most, eh?" I wrinkle my nose. "I thought you built this though. I could have sworn you said-"

"If I did, I lied. I do lie, Alina." He shrugs. "I did remodel some on it and add on. Read the name on that motorcycle magazine." Trevor.

"You receive mail under this too right? You had told me this name and to call you this name around others." He nods.

"Yes. It's his identity I'm using. Even his house and property. Took me ages to find a guy who was similar enough to me to pull it off, not to mention in a nice location. Years if I'm being honest. Then I had to watch this house and try to find a good time to get rid of him. Pain in the ass that was. Guy was pretty smart. Those hideouts I showed you in the woods, I lived there for weeks watching his routines." The magazine slips from my hands as I shudder. "Guy was older than me though, so I had to do a little fake salt and pepper." He winks.

"I-I see."

"I know you feel rough, but can you pack a little faster? There honestly isn't much of mine here. I'll leave some clothes and toiletries out, and we will pack up food before we move. I will load that trailer you bought, and the truck. I think it all should fit, and save us the stress of a U-haul." I nod. I'm not in a mood to talk or really have to hear this.

Creature and Critter are both running through the house now, wrestling and chasing each other. Kellan scolds them to calm down and they reluctantly reduce speed, Creature glaring back at us as he sulks away beside his new little love. We make progress through the extra rooms and then he fixes us sandwiches. Then, we start on everything else that we don't use daily.