Nine

Addy

Addy didn’t sleep well that night, tied up to the bedpost with Jay snoring on the other bed not far from her. She tried to close her eyes and get rest, but sleep refused her.

Instead, she thought of Ryan and Abby back home. Abby would be on the phone with every law enforcement officer in the state, sobbing and screaming and demanding someone do something. She wouldn’t sleep. Despite her party-girl ways, they were best friends. No, sisters. She would pace the house in her slippers and robe with bloodshot eyes as she made pot after pot of coffee and sat by the phone, waiting for Addy to call.

Ryan would be sulking at home, head in his hands, wanting desperately to light up a cigarette to ease the stress. Did he miss her? Was he a mess without her? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he’d even noticed she was gone, and a ball of rage formed in the pit of her stomach. It was almost to the point now that when she thought about home, she didn’t think about Ryan.

Jay was a mystery. In the brief time she’d been with him, Addy had witnessed many layers of personality and emotion make brief appearances. Last night, walking through the cold and snow, there’d been a moment… he’d given her his jacket, fingers lingering near her cheeks. Concern had been clear in his face, surprising Addy. She couldn’t get a solid read on him because he wouldn’t tell her the whole story, and she hated that; it made her feel like he was hiding so much more, things that made him more dangerous than she wanted to believe he was.

He’d pulled a gun on her. Kidnapped her. But then, last night, he’d given her the choice to part ways with him. It had been an awful shitty option, granted, but she knew he hadn’t been playing a game with her. Had she stayed back with the SUV and made it through the night without freezing to death, she could have easily walked to help this morning. It had been about a mile from the abandoned vehicle back to the freeway, and while it had been a bitterly cold journey, they’d both survived, and once again she felt caught in this web of lies that Jay was offering.

But… Was it a lie? Earlier he’d told her point-blank that he’d killed his father and sister. But the way he’d said it made her doubt the words coming out of his mouth. At least, that’s what she wanted to believe, anyway; Jay wasn’t a killer, a murderer. Then again, maybe he hadn’t threatened her at gunpoint and tied her up once again to this fucking bed.

Addy tilted her head to the side to look over at Jay. She could see him vaguely in the dim light, lying on his back, clothed on the bed. He had his hands crossed over his stomach, and they rose and fell with his breathing. Even asleep, the muscles under his white tee shirt were apparent. She remembered suddenly the way he’d taken her hand in the parking lot, squeezing her fingers in his, and for that fucked-up moment, Addy had felt okay. No, better than okay. She’d felt comfortable. Safe. Protected.

How ironic.

As she closed her eyes again and shifted for a more comfortable angle, something poked her in the thigh. She winced, twisting her hip to the side as the small piece of jagged ceramic reminded her it was there. My God, maybe it would work.

Careful to move quietly so as not to wake Jay, Addy scooted herself until she had just enough slack to maneuver better. She grabbed hold of the tiny end of the rope and hauled herself up until she was almost sitting on her knees. She twisted the rope and brought the lower half of her body as far up as she could to reach her pocket. Her joints and muscles screamed in pain, but she ignored it as her fingers brushed the small, sharp piece and secured it safely in her fingers.

Letting out a long breath, she allowed her body to relax back onto the mattress as she tried to breathe through the cramping pain of her muscles. The creak of the bed made Jay stir, and Addy froze, her eyes on the lump in the bed, expecting it to rise at any moment. As soon as he snored again, Addy went to work on the rope.

Thirty-six minutes later, despite the pain in her hands and the blisters on her fingers, Addy got the rope just thin enough to snap. Her hands fell to her sides, numb and sore and beat-up, but she was fucking free!

Knowing there was no time to waste, Addy slid off the bed, moving slowly and holding her breath. She stepped around the bed, her eyes searching the table desk in the dark for the gun or anything she could use if he woke up. But it wasn’t there; nothing was. He must have the gun on him.

Somewhere in the parking lot of the motel, the rev of an engine split through the eerie silence. Headlights flashed against the window, blinding her through the crack in the curtain. A door slammed next to them, but she wasn’t the only one to hear it. On the other bed, Jay stopped snoring and stirred. She could barely see him in the dark, but she could tell he, too, was listening.

“What’s that noise?” he asked, tone tinted with sleep.

Fuck.

This was it; she had to make a run for it.

Addy bolted toward the door and yanked, one finger reaching to unlock the deadbolt as the other hand grabbed for the chain lock on the door. She heard movement behind her but didn’t dare turn around as the soft click of the deadbolt rang in her ears. The fingers fumbling for the second lock grabbed hold of the chain and pulled, and the door budged open.

One foot out, and the second was in mid-air as he threw his arms around her midsection and pulled her back into the room. She tripped over him and they both landed on the bed in a heap; Jay with one arm still around Addy’s waist as she tried to pry his grip away. He fumbled, just for a moment, and pain seared through her sore muscles as Addy lunged for the door, but his grip on her was too tight, and for a mere instant, she relaxed with resignation. For a moment—for a fleeting second—they were face-to-face and eye-to-eye. His hands were on her shoulders, steadying her. She could smell the cigarette smoke on his jacket, caught a distinct whiff of men’s cologne—Old Spice, probably—and it smelled so good—

It only lasted a second. One minute their noses were inches apart, and the next Jay was spinning her around and pushing her toward the door.

“Don’t make a noise,” he whispered.

Addy nodded, mute, unable to bring herself to keep fighting him. Now that he was awake and coherent, he’d have no trouble taking her down himself.

Her brain was a scrambled mess, incoherent thoughts paralyzing her. She didn’t know what to feel anymore, what to think. She was still dazed and dizzy, surprised by not only how close she’d been to freedom, but also by how close she and Jay had just been. She could still feel a tingling where his hand had been planted softly on her shoulder.

With his free hand, Jay pushed open the front door again and poked his head out, the other hand holding the back of her sweatshirt in a balled-up fist. Somewhere down the sidewalk, Addy heard men’s voices speaking in the dark. She held her breath and stepped out into the chill of the early morning air, trying to keep her composure as Jay pulled her gently and quietly away from the voices and toward the car. She could see two police officers, about a dozen doors down, speaking with a guest. They didn’t look up.

“I want to go home.” The words seemed to pour from her mouth before they’d even reached her brain. Addy halted, digging her feet into the gravel under the snow. Jay stumbled over her, and the ruckus drew the attention of the two officers.

“Hey, kids,” one of them shouted, and both men headed in their direction.

“Addy, come on!” Jay hissed desperately. He tugged on her arm, and Addy found her eyes darting between Jay’s face and the approaching cops. This was her chance to go home, to be free, she had only to fight him a little bit harder…

It was the sane thing to do.

Addy pulled her sleeve out of Jay’s grip and yanked back, ready to turn and run into the arms of the officers. They had picked up a quick pace, sensing that something was off, and as Addy turned to ditch Jay, her eyes caught a glimpse of the bruises dotting her skin on her lower arms, the ones inflicted by Ryan.

She froze then, a strangled squeak escaping her lips, and her body went rigid as she fell to her knees in the parking lot. Like a flash of a bad nightmare, she saw Ryan in her mind, towering over her, screaming at her. She could smell the liquor on his breath, could feel the heat of his anger radiating from the pores of his skin. She closed her eyes, remembering the time he’d hit her in the face, bloodying her nose. Tears escaped between her eyelids, and it was at that moment she realized that Jay wasn’t holding onto her anymore. He was backing away, his eyes on the police as they headed in their direction. Addy looked from the police officers, and then back over her shoulder at Jay. He looked down at her, pausing briefly, and their eyes met.

“Don’t,” she whispered. Her heart was racing, beating uncomfortably against her chest, and words she never, ever thought she’d say escaped from her lips. “Don’t leave me here.”