Back to You(78)

Which, of course, was the reason for this little road trip.
Lauren claimed she needed his help with something tonight, but Del knew better. She hated when he drank too much, especially when he used it as a coping mechanism. She had used those exact words with him once, and he’d laughed and told her not to quit her day job.
Even though he knew that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Just…humor me,” she said quietly before she reached to turn the radio on.
For the next twenty minutes, neither one of them spoke as Lauren drove them through the next town and pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a small warehouse.
She cut the engine and removed her seatbelt before she turned to look at him.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Del squinted out the window, just making out the letters of a small neon sign hanging above the door of the building.
TRASHED.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, but she was already out of the car.
With a huff he took off his seatbelt. “Hey,” he called as he exited the car, and she turned to look over her shoulder. “What the hell is this?”
“Come on,” she said simply, reaching for him.
With a resigned sigh he walked over to where she was standing and took her outstretched hand.
Lauren led him to the door and pulled it open, and they walked into what looked like a small china shop. The walls were essentially floor to ceiling shelves, filled with various plates, glasses, mugs, bowls, and vases. There was a counter on the far wall, where a cash register sat above a long glass case filled with what looked like small porcelain statues and knickknacks. The man behind it appeared to be in his twenties; his hair was dyed a deep black and styled into meticulous spikes, and two piercings adorned his lower lip.
Del halted in the doorway, surveying the area with confusion, but Lauren pulled him forward as she approached the man behind the counter.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Lauren Monroe. I think we spoke on the phone?”
“Lauren, yes,” he said, and Del immediately straightened his posture at the way the guy was looking at her. “Good to meet you.”
She nodded with a smile. “This is my friend Michael,” she said, pulling him a bit closer to the counter.
The man nodded politely at him. “Glad to have you with us. So, are you guys all set?”
“Just him,” Lauren said.
“Okay then. Right this way. Your room is all ready.”
The man turned and walked down a small hallway to the left of the counter, and Lauren moved to follow him.
Del yanked on her hand, and she stumbled back toward him, wide-eyed.
“I’m not going anywhere until you nd"> shoulder tell me what the hell this is.”
For a second, she just stared up at him. “You don’t trust me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course I do,” he started.
“Then just come with me,” she said, cutting him off. “If you don’t want to do it, we’ll leave.”
She looked up at him for another second, reassuring him with her eyes before she turned back toward the hallway, and this time, he allowed her to pull him along.
There were two doors on either side of the hall, and Lauren followed the man into the last one on the right.
As soon as they stepped inside the room, Del released her hand and crossed his arms, looking around. One of the walls appeared to be made of plexi-glass. He could see four chairs lined up on the other side, facing the room. The other walls were painted black and had sheet metal nailed to them. Del furrowed his brow, noticing the dents, nicks, and scratches that peppered the once shiny surfaces.
But the strangest thing of all was the long table set up against the back wall; there were four large stacks of plates in varying sizes and colors, several wine glasses, a few serving bowls, and one large crystal vase right in the center.
Del turned to look at Lauren, but she was looking at the man, nodding at something he was saying.
“And that’s it,” he said. “Here you go.” He handed her something that looked like folded cloth.
“Thank you,” she said, and the man turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
She turned then, looking at him; the steadfast confidence from earlier was diluted with a hint of uncertainty now.
Before he could say anything, she walked over to him. “Here,” she said softly. “You have to put this on.”
Michael looked down at the gray fabric in her hand.
It was a pair of coveralls, similar to what a mechanic might wear.
“And these,” she added, holding out a pair of safety goggles.
Del studied them for a second before he looked up at her, finally understanding.