Eleven

Jay

Utah was beautiful. That was the first thing Jay noticed as they crossed the state line. It wasn’t rainy like Washington or cold like Oregon. He liked Utah. Though dark out, the sky was clear, and stars glimmered above them. It was a shame he couldn’t stay there forever. He could pack up a one-man tent and a sleeping bag and hike the state—see the canyons. Smoke a joint. Have a beer next to a bonfire. If only.

In the seat next to him, Addy was asleep. Her head was propped up against the windowpane, her face masked by the light of the radio. She looked peaceful, almost angelic.

Jay turned down the music on the radio, not understanding how she had fallen asleep with the booming bass in her ear. It would have driven him mad. Then again, he was already mad, wasn’t he? What would one call a crazy person driven over the edge? Insane? No. Psychotic? Yes.

He looked over at Addy again, more curious than ever about this strange woman who had offered him a ride. It was difficult for him to grasp that everybody had a story, not just him. Growing up he’d learned to stop focusing on other people’s problems so much—he had enough problems of his own to deal with, why would he want to take on somebody else’s? It had helped, though not much. He was a naturally caring person, and trying to shut off loving emotions had been difficult for him. But now, as he looked at this girl next to him, he realized how unique Addy’s story seemed, even if she’d clarified it to him she had no desire to tell it. She was tight-lipped and stubborn, and he wasn’t certain he would get more from her than she would give.

Jay wanted so desperately to understand why Addy had gone with him. He wouldn’t have if the tables were turned. He’d been only an asshole to her, had proven his criminal status repeatedly, and she was still around.

Every time Addy’s fiancé was brought up, rage simmered in his groin, threatening to explode. He tried to play it off nonchalantly, uncaring, but that was deeming increasingly difficult. He wanted to kill this guy, if for no other reason than to protect Addy from ever having to see his abusive face again. He wanted to beat him to a pulp, inflict the same pain on him that he’d so clearly forced on Addy. Jay knew he wasn’t the saint here; he was no knight in shining armor who’d rescued her from such a shitty life. But he sure as hell was better than any man like that.

Glancing over again, Jay noticed the sleeve riding up on Addy’s arm, and he saw the scars on her skin. He felt sick when he looked at them. Confused. Such a strong woman, a girl who’d tried to punch him in the face (and had almost succeeded), and yet he got the feeling that her demons were stronger than she was. He knew that feeling; lots of people did. They were the same, he and Addy, whether she knew it.

“Wake up,” Jay said. “We need to find somewhere to stay.”

When Addy stirred without waking, he slapped her thigh, harder than intended, jolting her back to reality. She bolted upright and glared at him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He made a mental note not to hit her again—he wouldn’t be surprised if the next time he did it, she hit him back. In the face. Probably with a large, heavy object. And he would deserve it.

“Where are we?” She blinked a few times, groggy.

“Somewhere in Utah.”

From the corner of his eye, Jay watched her take in the surroundings. He missed when life was beautiful, when he could face the day head-on and embrace what was to come with open arms. It wasn’t beautiful anymore. Now it was a nightmare, and it didn’t matter where he was.

But when he looked at Addy, observing the way she took in the sights, her eyes flashing from one thing to the next, he felt like all was not lost. He felt like she may have very well been the beautiful thing that had been void in his life for far too long.

Jay cleared his throat, trying to wipe the slate clean. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, couldn’t be distracted. For that, there could be deadly consequences.

“I’m low on money,” he said. “I’m not sure we can afford another room.”

“Don’t tell me you want to sleep in the car.” Addy sounded horrified as if sleeping in the car was the worst thing that could happen. Because being kidnapped wasn’t on her list of stuff that sucked.

“I may have the cash for one more night, but that’s it.”

He wasn’t fucking with her. After his prison release, he’d dipped into his savings for a few hundred dollars, thinking he’d be on his own the whole time. He’d assumed a quick trip; a day, maybe two. So much for assumptions.

“Well, I have something, maybe,” Addy dug into the pocket of her jeans and produced a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. She held it up and shrugged. “It was hidden in the SUV’s console.”

“Impressive.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Any more where that came from?”

“No,” Addy said. “And I’m sorry, but this needs to go to new clothes. Or a laundromat. Whichever works. I feel disgusting and probably smell like a brothel.”

Jay had the biting urge to tell Addy she smelled lovely, but he figured at this point that was too weird. Since popular retail stores were out of the question for fear of being recognized, Jay stopped off briefly at a drug store and followed Addy in so she could grab a few things like deodorant, body wash, and a toothbrush. Jay did the same, and they got out of there in impressive time.

“My mouth tastes disgusting,” Addy said as they drove. She’d grabbed a pack of gum on the way out, and as she chewed, the spicy peppermint scent filled the air. If he’d wanted to kiss her before, that was nothing compared to now.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, trying to direct his attention elsewhere. This was bad. This was really bad. He knew it, and there’s no way she didn’t know it, too. Jay had to pull his head out and get a clue. He had to figure out what Addy was doing, what this whole thing was…or wasn’t. If she were playing him, she’d have him hook, line, and sinker before he could take another breath. That was dangerous. It was dangerous for them both.

Trying to drum up a plan, Jay allowed his thoughts to wander as he pulled off on an exit, finding a cheap room close to the freeway. He knew that it was overdue for them to ditch the car before they got caught, but he was too tired to think about it. He had about twenty bucks left, give or take, and the thought of having to steal another vehicle didn’t thrill him.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, dropping his bag in the corner of the room. He turned to face Addy, who was sitting silently at the end of the bed. She looked worn down, shattered, like a girl on the verge of a breakdown. He wondered when that would finally happen; no one could be strong forever, not even her, and especially not him.

Instead of heading into the bathroom, Jay sat down on the end of the second bed. He rested his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hand. All he wanted to do was sleep, forever, and fall into some mind-numbing darkness. Addy didn’t even look at him.

“If you’re tired you can sleep,” Jay said.

She looked up then, her blue-gray eyes meeting his. Her lips stayed set in a stubborn line, but those eyes were sad. Eyes could always give a person away. “I’m not tired.”

“You look tired.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Fine.” Jay scooted himself back on the bed, feeling the weariness tug at his eyelids. He rubbed his face and yawned.

“I thought you were going to take a shower,” Addy said.

“I will. Can I just take a break?”

She looked down at her hands as if pondering this. “You could try giving me one, too,” she said.

Jay turned to face her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. He hesitated, watching her pull her bottom lip between her teeth. Such a bad habit, and one he couldn’t resist.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” She sounded surprised.

“For—putting you through this,” he said. “All of it.”

Addy shifted her gaze again. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and shrugged. There was silence between them, a heavy silence that weighed on Jay’s shoulders like a ton of bricks ready to tumble down and smash him into the earth.

“Addy,” he said after another moment of quiet. This time, she didn’t look at him, but he would not turn back now. “Why are you here?”

When she didn’t answer, he tried again. “Back at that motel, I let you go, and you jumped in the car. Why? Why did you do that?”

Silence. Addy stared at the hands folded in her lap, breathing rigid. She didn’t move to look at him, or even speak, and this irritated him.

“I don’t want you here anymore.” He stood from the bed, overwhelmed suddenly, but she didn’t even flinch. “I want you to go home. I want you to go home to your life and never look back again.” He dropped to one knee in front of her, trying to get her attention. Her eyes finally flickered up to meet his face, but still, she was quiet. “Go home,” he said. He put his hands on each of her arms, squeezing. She looked away. “I can’t take you any farther than this.”

Jay stood and sat down on the edge of the old oak desk, folding his arms as he stared at her. He wanted to shake her, slap sense into her. He wanted to grab her and shove her out the front door, then jump into the car and drive away without looking back. He wanted to never see this woman again, this stubborn, sarcastic, demanding woman. He wanted to leave this all behind him so badly, to never see her face again.

And yet, he could do none of that, because the mere thought of Addy leaving now sent a sliver of ice through his chest.

“Where’s the gun?” Addy said. She was looking at him again, gaze steady, eyes locked on his face with suspicion. “You usually have it out by now. You know, to intimidate me.”

“Does it work?” Jay asked. “Because it doesn’t seem to.” He reached into his pack and took out the Glock, setting it on the mattress in front of him. Addy stared at it, but her expression didn’t change.

“I hate guns,” she said. “And I hate that you feel you need to carry it around. Who are you going to kill, Jay?”

He reached for the gun and drew it back, ejecting the magazine before pulling the chamber back. He tilted it in her direction.

“Nobody,” he said. “There are no bullets.”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face, an emotion so abrupt it was gone before he was certain it was ever there. Addy stared at the empty gun, nostrils flaring, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth to chew absentmindedly.

“So, it was just to intimidate me,” she said. “Threaten me.”

“No,” Jay said. “It was to protect myself until I finished with this.”

A silence settled over them as Jay tossed the gun aside. He was afraid to look at Addy, afraid of what she might do if she knew that she was no longer at his mercy. She never had been, of course, he’d been playing her against herself, and so far, it had worked. For a moment, Jay waited for her to get up and walk out, to reach for the phone and call the police, to grab the keys and get the hell out of there. But she didn’t.

“How old are you?” she asked instead.

The shift in conversation nearly gave him whiplash, and Jay slid to the floor in total surrender. He leaned his head back against the TV stand and rolled his eyes.

“Guess,” he said.

“Thirty.”

“Ouch.” He folded his arms and ankles and looked over at her. Addy’s face set in a grim line, but her eyes had shifted from sadness to—amusement? “I’m twenty-nine,” he said. “What about you?”

“I had to guess,” she said. “So now you have to.” She ran one hand through her hair and took a deep breath, her body visibly relaxing.

“Twelve,” Jay said. Addy rolled her eyes, but a smile seemed to tug at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Where did you go to high school?”

Addy’s eyes flickered in his direction, but this time he wasn’t sure if she would even answer him. He wanted her to, he wanted to talk and never stop because when he was listening to her voice, nothing else in the moment mattered.

“Sorry I asked,” Jay mumbled when she didn’t answer at once. He was about to stand up to take his shower when she spoke.

“Mossy Oaks High School.”

“No shit?” He leaned back and squinted at her. “I knew some people from there.” When she didn’t answer, he looked down at his lap. “What do you do for a living?”

“Jesus,” she snapped, catching him off guard. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“You started it.” He put his palms in the air, surrendering. Her tone had taken on a sharp glint, and he was worried she would yell at him. She was scary when she yelled.

“I’m an EMT,” she said after a pause. “I do that part-time while I go to school.”

“An EMT? That sounds—interesting.”

“It’s amazing,” she said and looked over at him. “I love it.” The guarded undertone was gone, and now she almost sounded—excited. “I like knowing that I make a difference in people’s lives.”

“What are you in school for?”

“I’m pre-med,” Addy said.

“That’s admirable.” Jay got to his feet to pop the kinks from his back, wishing he had ibuprofen for his head. There wasn’t much more this girl could say that was a surprise, and only because the surprises hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t even assume anymore because this creature in front of him couldn’t be more different than he ever could have imagined.

“Yeah, well,” Addy shrugged her shoulders, hugging herself. She was quiet now, not saying anything more, and Jay straightened up, thinking about what he could ask. He wanted to know everything he could about this woman—the questions would never end. But for now, he would keep it simple.

“I have a question for you,” he said. She looked at him, waiting. “What are you scared of?”

There was silence, and Jay was certain Addy wouldn’t answer that. He had fucked it up already. Out of every question to ask someone, he had asked that one?

“I don’t know,” she said, and her tone had come down a few notches. “There are a lot of things I’m afraid of.”

“Like?” he prodded. She shrugged once before lying back on the bed and crossing her hands over her stomach.

“Losing control,” she said. “I’m afraid of losing control.”

“Of?” Jay pressed. Another long silence.

“Myself.”

Jay pulled off his dirty shirt and pants, letting them drop to the bathroom floor as he turned on the water and cranked it hot. He stepped in, breathing in the warm mist that filled his lungs. He closed his eyes as the hot, steamy water washed away the day behind him. The water pooling below his feet swirled with black and brown. Dirt and grime. Demons.

He took hold of the cheap bar of motel room soap and scrubbed himself from head to toe, unwilling to leave anything behind. He hadn’t tied Addy up, not this time—why? He didn’t know. He was giving her another out, he supposed. He was giving her an escape. He’d already showed her the empty gun, as he wanted her to know that he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d never had the intention to, of course, but now she knew that. If she wanted to go home, she could. Whatever. He was away from Seattle. He could do the rest of this without her, even if he didn’t want to.

Addy was a strange woman; there was no doubt about that. Jay had known his fair share of women throughout his life. There had been blonde-haired women and brunettes, thin women and hefty women—shy girls and outgoing ones. And yet, Addy wasn’t any of those things—or maybe she was all of them. She took shit from nobody, especially him. Her guard was always up, and her fists were always ready, but deep down, somewhere in her core, Jay knew there was a little girl just begging to be let loose. She was too strong—too tough. No one was that tough, not even Addy.

Jay turned off the faucet and stepped out, droplets of water dripping onto the cold tile below his feet. He stepped up to the mirror, wiping the vapor from the glass, and stared at himself for a long moment. His black hair was getting too long for his taste. It hung over his eyes, sopping wet. He ran his fingers through it, pushing it from his eyes, and called it a job well done.

Jay gathered up his dirty clothes and tossed them into the bathtub, then cranked the water back on and added hand soap to the running stream. He left them to soak and secured the towel again so it wouldn’t fall off his hips and expose everything in front of Addy.

When Jay appeared from the bathroom, the first thing he noticed was that she was still there. She was asleep on the bed, hands crossed over her stomach like they had been when he’d gone in for a shower. Her eyes were closed, breathing steady. For a moment, he was stunned. He’d expected her to bail out the door without a glance back—not be sound asleep on the bed.

The second thing he noticed was the pair of scissors sitting next to the bed stand, scissors she must have just used to cut her hair. In the trash can next to the door, tendrils of brown coated at the bottom of the pail. Jay looked at her for a moment, breathless, wondering why she’d chosen to snip away part of herself. Even with short hair, a mussy bob that framed her face, she was breathtaking.

Jay grabbed a disposable razor and went back into the bathroom to shave some of the scruff. He rinsed his dirty clothes multiple times and wrung them out as well as he could, then hung them over the curtain rod to dry. He pulled on the cheap sweatpants and tee-shirt he’d snagged from a convenience store and went back out into the living area. He sat down on the bed opposite Addy, his eyes searching her face for something, anything, which could help explain her.

On the floor, Jay’s toe collided with an empty white foam cup, and Addy’s eyes flickered open. She sat up on the bed, bleary-eyed. Jay picked up the empty cup, smashed it in his hand, and tossed it into the trash can.

“You cut your hair. I didn’t even know we had scissors.”

“I grabbed them from the store,” she said. Jay watched her reach one hand up to touch the brown tendrils. She’d done a damn decent job on it for using outlet scissors and a shitty motel mirror. “Does it look bad?”

“No,” Jay said. He wanted to tell her she looked stunning, the shorter hair suited her, that it brought out the freckles in her cheeks and the soft curve of her neck. “Get some rest,” he said instead. “We’re not done with our road trip yet.”