Seven

Addy

Addy had no idea what time it was when she woke to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, but she could see a glint of sunlight coming in through a crack in the curtains. She shifted her body uncomfortably, wincing as the rope cut deeper into her wrists.

She felt so vulnerable splayed out on the bed like some cheap fucking hooker. She hated feeling like that. She hated feeling like she was at the mercy of someone else—especially a man. Especially a man like Jay. She’d gone from one asshole man to the next. Brilliantly done, Addy. He had tightened the ropes around her wrists more than necessary, and the fresh cuts on her arm were screaming in pain beneath the tingling sensation in her limbs.

Despite the odd angle of her body, Addy had slept well, even if it only had been for a few hours. But aside from the exhaustion overtaking her mentally, her body was sore. The pain seemed to start at the soles of her feet and make its way to her hands. Her arms had gone to sleep and were humming with numbness as she flexed her fingers, trying to bring them back to life. Her neck hurt, her back hurt, and a stress-induced migraine seemed to slip its way in slowly.

She needed a plan. She needed a plan now, and she needed it fast. The longer she waited to see what would happen, the farther away from home and help they got. She had to get away from him, and she knew that, but the goddamn gun he had hidden in his pocket terrified her. One wrong move and that thing would kill her on the spot. And while the depression in her soul reared its ugly black head a few times a week, she wasn’t that far gone. Not yet. Fuck him. When it was her time to go, it would be on her terms.

In the bathroom, the water shut off and she could hear Jay rummaging around. The gun sat on the edge of the desk, and she was immensely relieved. She felt better when it was in her sight, and not hidden somewhere with him, ready for use.

A moment later, Jay emerged from the bathroom, still damp from the shower. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, but his black hair now glinted under the moisture of the water. His white T-shirt clung to the wet spots on his skin, along his chest and up to his arms which, she noticed, were sculpted and shaped—arms and chest of an athlete. He caught Addy’s gaze, rubbing the back of his neck, and she knew he’d caught her staring.

“Sleep well?”

“Like being at home in my bed, comfortable and safe,” Addy said.

“Happy to hear.”

Addy stared at Jay in heavy silence as he sat down on the bed next to her, reaching up to gently loosen the rope cutting into her skin. The muscles in his arms flexed as he did so, and when he leaned over her to undo the last stubborn knot, Addy found herself admiring the sculpted shape of his jaw. Her eyes traveled from his freshly shaved chin and up to the sharp angle of his nose before meeting the gentle but uneasy stare of glacial blue eyes.

Stupid fucking eyes.

For a moment that seemed to go on for far too long, they stared at each other, two unrelenting gazes holding steady. Jay studied her with piercing scrutiny, but Addy couldn’t read the emotions on his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed, just slightly, and when he shifted his gaze from hers, Addy did the same. An unfamiliar rise of heat reached her neck, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth to focus on something other than the fact that Jay smelled of soap and the faint odor of menthol cigarettes, which just so happened to be more appealing than she would have liked.

When she was finally free, Jay pulled back slightly so she could sit up. She rubbed the indentations in her wrist, trying to look everywhere but at him. Her whole body was stiff, and when she stood, her legs almost gave out. As she steadied herself on the nightstand near the bed, she felt Jay’s hand catch her elbow. For a fleeting, horrible second, Addy expected him to yank at her as Ryan would have, but his grip was so gentle she wasn’t sure he’d even touched her, and he drew back as quickly as he’d reached out. Addy straightened up, but she couldn’t look at him.

“Hurry up,” he said. “We have to go.”

Ignoring him, she went into the bathroom to compose herself. She ran the faucet and splashed icy water on her face, fighting tears. She was in a mess she didn’t know how to get away from. Jay had left her with no way out. Sure, she could run screaming, but she feared to test his motivation to use that shiny Glock in his bag. If she was lucky, she might just ride this out with him until he finished with her. Whether she’d be dead or alive, she had no idea.

Running her fingers through her tangled hair, Addy wiped the stained mascara from below her eyes and took a deep breath. She could only hope and pray that Ryan or Abby had reported her missing—someone had to be looking for her, right? No one just disappeared, especially not her. It had been years since she’d been out of Seattle, and even longer since she’d been out of state. And now, here she was, kidnapped by some psychopath with a gun and a hidden agenda, and she had no idea where to go from here.

“Now, Addy,” Jay called through the door.

She rolled her sleeves back down, hiding the jagged cuts up and down her skin, and then zipped her jacket up to avoid showing the bruise. As she turned to open the door, her eye caught sight of a jagged piece of crumbling ceramic near the corner of the bathtub where the tub was collapsed against the wall. Glancing just briefly over her shoulder, she grabbed for the sharp piece and shoved it into her pocket before turning back around to open the door.

Jay stood there in front of her, backpack flung over one shoulder and his free hand stuffed into the pocket of his Levi’s. Despite the situation and the power Jay held over her, he looked so ordinary. Childish, even, like a high school kid waiting for his prom date. His black hair was almost falling into his eyes, and she saw the blackened circles beneath his lids like he hadn’t slept in weeks. But beyond all that, beyond his innocent facade, she still noticed that the gun was nowhere to be seen, probably stuffed back into the pack, and that didn’t ease her anxiety. She couldn’t let her fear show through. She refused to. The most frightening person to Addy had always been herself.

Not even Jay could change that.

“Give a girl a break,” she snapped.

“Save it.” He grabbed hold of her upper arm and squeezed as he pulled her out the front door and toward the car. She stumbled twice and caught herself, wondering if she could stall him just long enough to come up with another plan of escape. She wouldn’t let herself fight him. Fighting him now could prove dangerous for her if she wasn’t prepared. Keeping her head would be the only logical thing she could do right now. And short of trying to beat him up with one free arm, she was screwed until she had a better plan.

“Be nice, please.” She yelped as his fingers dug into the gashes hidden under her sweatshirt. She thought of the sharp ceramic in her pocket but knew at once that it would be too small to do any real damage to him. “I’m still doing what you want. No need to be vicious about it.”

Although he didn’t respond, his grip on her arm loosened. He pushed her into the SUV’s driver’s seat and crossed around the front to slide in next to her. Before he did so, however, he grabbed the gun from the pack. He handed her the keys, and Addy turned on the engine, blasting the heat. It had snowed more during the night, coating the parking lot in a layer of white. Had the situation been different, she would have enjoyed the beauty of the season’s first snow. The smells in the air during winter were her favorite; they always had been. The spicy scent of a pine tree, hot cider that burned her tongue, the bitter kick in the air, and even the cold that singed her nose hairs and made her toes and fingers ache. The holiday season was always something to celebrate. But now, only the soft scent of exhaust pouring from the tailpipe gave her any welcome to the early season.

“Don’t you know how to drive?” she asked, but he said nothing. Sighing, Addy backed out of the parking lot. “Okay then. Have you figured out where we’re going yet?”

“I know exactly where we’re going,” he said. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about, so just drive.” After a moment, he added, “Please.”

Addy did as he said, heading again in the opposite direction of home. All she knew was that they were approaching the Oregon border. If she remembered her high school geography right, the freeway they were on would take them briefly through Utah and then Nevada. What was in Nevada? What was Jay after? She hated not knowing.

The unknown was scarier than anything.

A heavy silence settled over the car. Jay seemed deep in thought as he stared out the window. His leg was shaking again, finger strumming an imaginary air guitar.

Trying to ignore it, Addy got lost in her petty thoughts. She thought of Ryan, wondered if he had any idea—or even cared—where she was. Well, of course, he did. She had his vehicle. She felt she would give anything to go back to their fight, to keep her mouth shut for once instead of pushing and pushing and pushing.

You were supposed to be breaking up with him, an inner-ear voice said softly, and Addy cringed. Yeah, she was supposed to break up with him for the umpteenth time, and she still couldn’t seem to find the balls to do it. She hated herself for wanting to be back home in his arms.

Is this really worse than home, Addy? That voice came again. Is Jay that much worse than Ryan? Someone worth your love wouldn’t hurt you no matter how much you pushed.

“That’s a nice rock.”

The silence drowning the car shattered when Jay spoke. Addy started, unprepared for the interruption of her thoughts. She didn’t look over at him and instead continued to stare straight ahead. She couldn’t help it, though, when she found her gaze shifting to the engagement ring on her finger. It glistened, mocking her. Such a beautiful, expensive ring, fit for a queen.

She dropped her left hand from the wheel and into her lap, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Let me guess,” Jay continued, and she groaned aloud. The last thing she wanted today was the sound of his stupid voice and snarky, sarcastic tone in her ear. But he seemed nonchalant as he leaned back in the seat. His feet were propped up on the dashboard, and Addy noticed then that he wore heavy, black boots. No bullshit boots. She made a mental note to buy some of those boots when she got home. Maybe they had them in brown. “You’re married and happy and ready to start a family back in the tiny town of Lakewood.”

Making small talk with the man next to her was not on the agenda, so she kept her mouth closed, fearing she would say something stupid enough to set him off. Instead, she tightened the grip on the wheel unintentionally, as if trying to squeeze the life from it. She imagined wrapping her fingers around Jay’s neck, and it made her feel better, even if just for a moment.

“I bet he’s a tool,” Jay continued. “Not that I’ve met him or anything, I just get the feeling he’s the kind of guy you’d find walking down the street with a ‘Blow Me’ sign strapped to his dick.”

There was nothing funny about this moment, yet Addy had an overwhelming urge to laugh. This man—this stranger—had fucking nailed it.

“Shut up, Jay.”

“Is that his handiwork on your chest, too?” Jay asked, and this caught Addy off guard. She froze, swallowing, a short frame of that night flicking through her memory.

“Is there a reason you’re talking to me?” she asked steadily. She hadn’t meant to respond, but she had no intention of becoming friendly with the asshole who had abducted her.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jay said. From the corner of her eye, she noticed him look away, clear his throat, and then look back at her. “Why do you stay with someone like that?”

Had the question come from anybody else on the face of the planet, Addy wouldn’t have had the overwhelming urge to punch Jay in the face and break his nose. She’d spent the night tied to a bedpost with a gun near her feet, and Jay was asking why she stayed with a man like Ryan.

“You’re one to talk,” she said.

Jay stared at her, his eyes steady on her face. He seemed to think hard about something, though she had no idea what. His finger was still strumming subconsciously.

“You know, my sister always thought she’d marry a sugar daddy,” he said. “Someone who would lavish her with gifts and take her on exotic trips.” He grinned and flipped a lock of black hair out of his eyes in such a way that a single butterfly fluttered in Addy’s stomach. “She never realized that the man she described repeatedly was almost identical to our father.”

Addy tensed up, sweat forming on the palms of her hands. She knew what was coming next, and she dreaded it. She’d felt so well last night, egging him on, calling him out, but now the tables had turned, and Jay was ready to drag her through the mud.

“I heard somewhere that women and men tend to search for mates who remind them of their parents. Subconsciously, of course,” Jay said. “Something about attachment theory; I learned about it in college. You seem like a pretty smart girl to me, Addy, and tough. Very tough.” He was quiet again, but his eyes were still searching her face. “He’s a security blanket, isn’t he? A man like your father, a man you’re comfortable with because it’s what you’re used to. Did your dad hurt you, too?”

Bile rose in her throat; tears threatened to spill. She didn’t realize she’d been chewing so viciously on her lip until she tasted metallic blood on her tongue. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and focused on the road so she wouldn’t lose it.

“Do us both a favor and shut the fuck up.” She didn’t care if she angered him, she didn’t care if he wanted to kill her and run, she’d be better off dead than she would be stuck in a vehicle with this douchebag for too much longer.

“Yes, Captain,” Jay said. Something in his tone had switched, and he sounded different now, back to hiding whatever secret he had buried. For a moment, he’d almost sounded reasonable, a real person with real feelings. If she weren’t mistaken, he’d almost sounded sorry for her.

And she fucking hated him for that.

“You won’t think you’re so cute when I put my fist through your face,” Addy said. She’d never hit another human in her entire life, but Jay didn’t need to know that.

“Well look at you, all sassy and shit.” He leaned toward her, and Addy pulled away from him impulsively. Jay stopped when she did so. He didn’t touch her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

Addy cleared her throat, struggling to control herself. Most of the fear she had formerly held for him was gone, and with every moment that passed, her fear turned into anger. He was manipulating her, trying to terrify her. And even if he thought it was working—which it was, to an extent—she couldn’t let him know that. Fear would be her biggest weakness around a man like him.

“I’m afraid of you, Jay,” Addy said finally. It wasn’t a total lie—he was dangerous, but she’d seen scarier. She’d known scarier. Fuck, she was engaged to scarier. She swallowed once and took a calming breath. “I am afraid of you.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Jay’s tone was steady when he said this, confident, but before he turned away Addy saw a flutter of pain cross his face as if the words had been difficult to say.

It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. Addy waited for him to go on, but instead, he leaned back in the seat, taking the gun with him.

“In the next town, we can stop for food.”

Addy’s stomach grumbled thinking about lunch, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since the party. “Are you paying?” What a ridiculous conversation this was, like having a debate with your best friend or lover over where to eat for the hundredth time. She cleared her throat, mind racing again. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I don’t care. Just pick somewhere,” Jay said. He closed his eyes, wearied, muscles twitching like someone was running their fingers over him. Guiltily, Addy once again noticed the fine shape of his chin, how the muscles in his jaw flexed when he was stressed. As soon as the thought was there, she pushed it away, hating herself for even allowing it to enter her mind. What was she doing?

She took the next exit ten miles up the freeway, pulling into a friendly-looking diner near a truck stop. Jay tucked the gun into the pouch of his sweatshirt and got out, slamming the door behind him. She was about to follow when she realized something: he’d forgotten to take the keys.

A fleeting moment of terror mixed with an overwhelming urge to escape slammed her in the gut. She reached for the keys in the ignition, her eyes on Jay as he walked around the car, not realizing his mistake. Her body froze, and she realized she only had time to complete one action—lock the doors or turn on the car.

Panicking, she turned on the engine. It took a moment for Jay to register what was happening. Their eyes met, and Addy slammed the SUV into reverse, but she was a second too late.

Time seemed to slow down as Jay lunged for the unlocked door and yanked it open, grabbing her painfully by her scarred and bruised arm. She gasped, her foot slipping from the pedal. With his free arm, Jay wrapped it around her midsection and yanked, dislodging her from the seat. When she was free from the car, he released her, and Addy hit the gravel driveway beneath her feet, landing with a painful oomph as the ground sliced into her knees and palms. Behind her, Jay leaned into the car, slammed it into park, and yanked the keys from the ignition.

“You’re good,” he said to Addy, hovering over her. Fire glowed in his eyes as he stared her down, but as she tried to pick herself up off the ground, a tiny glint of concern replaced the anger. Jay’s hand extended, just a fraction of an inch before he pulled it back in, and the concern in his eyes was gone just as quickly as it had been there.

Addy brushed it off. Had she escaped just then, he’d be fucked. That’s where his concern had lain—not for her.

Jay was breathing heavily now, trying to catch his breath and compose himself.

“I figured I’d give it a try.” Swallowing tears, Addy brushed away the tiny pebbles embedded in her skin. Small droplets of blood from the scratches on her hand formed, and she wiped her palms on her pants, ignoring the sting. She looked around, wondering—praying—that someone would have seen the incident and called the cops. Unfortunately, no one seemed to look in their direction. She pressed her fingers against her palms, digging fingernails into the tiny cuts on her hand to bring her back to reality and to keep from doing something stupid, like forcing Jay to shoot up the whole restaurant. She could think of a better plan than outing him in public. She could do it quietly and keep people safe.

Jay dropped the keys into his pocket, eyes still flashing black. Trying to breathe through the pain in her legs and hands, she followed him through the diner doors, plastering a smile on her face. A perky, large-busted woman with a mop of blond hair stopped loudly smacking her gum long enough to greet them at the entrance.

The server gave Jay a once-over, her eyes trailing from the coal-black hair falling into his eyes, over the chiseled shoulders and chest, and down to—ahem—before she glanced briefly at Addy, and then grabbed two menus. Addy had the surprising urge to say something rude, but she bit her tongue. What other people (okay, other women) thought of Jay was none of her business.

It wasn’t them he was holding hostage.

“Just the two of you?” the server asked. She had a thick Southern accent that sounded out of place in Oregon.

“Can we get a booth?” Jay asked. He stepped up beside Addy, one hand touching, just barely, the small of her back.

“Of course,” she said. “Follow me.” She led them to a private table in the corner, setting menus down for them. Jay scooped them up and handed them back to her.

“We’ll have two burgers and fries,” he said.

Addy glared at him, annoyed, but even then, a burger and fries sounded just fine. She was starving.

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water,” Jay said.

“A Coke for me,” Addy cut in, and she ignored Jay as he slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes. The waitress delivered their drinks, and she took a long sip, trying to ease the raw and scratchy feeling in her throat. She reached for a napkin and pressed it against the palms of her hands, wincing. As she dabbed at the drying blood, Jay reached over for a fresh napkin. He dipped the tip into his ice water, squeezed the excess out, and held his hand out to her.

“Come on.”

For a moment, Addy only stared at him, wondering what he was up to now. He said nothing else, just waited patiently. After debating for a moment, she reached out her hand to his. Jay took it gently, her palm up on his own as he dabbed dried blood with the moist napkin.

“You’re lucky this place is a fucking ghost town,” Jay said as he dabbed. “I don’t think anyone saw your stupid stunt.”

“I wouldn’t want you to worry about that.” She glared at him, wishing she could cause him the same pain he’d been throwing at her since they’d been together. But considering the situation she was in, she was confident that tossing bitter hate around wouldn’t get her free of him any more quickly. She needed to think, not get pissed off.

“I do worry about it, Addy, because you’re going to fuck this up for me.” Jay drew the napkin away to re-wet it, but before he could, Addy yanked her arm away as the waitress reappeared at their table. She caught a whiff of the hamburger as the plate was placed in front of her, and her stomach rumbled. She took a drink of her Coke and watched Jay from across the table. He was putting together his burger; lettuce, pickles, onions, and then ketchup and mustard. As he did this, careful not to lose any of his toppings, he squirted ranch onto his plate and dipped the burger in it.

“Gross,” Addy said. She picked up a French fry, savoring the heat and salty taste it left behind.

“What’s gross?” With his free hand, Jay brushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes, staring at her.

“Ranch is gross,” she said.

“Ranch is delicious.

“No. Fry sauce is delicious.” She reached for the little cup of mayonnaise, grabbed the ketchup bottle, and mixed the two. Jay watched her do this, not saying much as she dipped a fry into the cup and ate it. “Perfect.”

When he didn’t answer, she slid the cup of fry sauce over to him without a word. For a second he ignored it, but then he dipped one fry in and popped it in his mouth.

“Meh,” he said, but reached for another fry to dip. Try as she might continue hating him, Addy had to fight to hide a triumphant smile.

“Where are we going now?” she asked.

Jay didn’t answer, and she didn’t have the energy to push it. As she ate her burger, she wondered what would happen if someone recognized her, Jay, or even Ryan’s car, which was technically stolen. Would the police come? Would she get away? Better yet, would she get away without being killed or injured? Would someone else get killed? Was Jay even capable of killing someone?

“I swear to God; you’re the slowest person I’ve ever met,” Jay said.

Addy glanced down at her plate, realizing she’d only eaten a few fries and two bites of her burger. “I like to taste my food, not inhale it.”

He stared at her over the rim of the water glass, silent. His eyes were vivid and bright today, reading her, scanning the lines on her face. His bangs kept falling into his eyes, and every time Jay reached up to swipe them out of the way, Addy had the uncomfortable urge to reach over and do it herself.

“I don’t know if I can tolerate you much longer,” he said.

“You brought this on yourself. What the hell did you expect?”

Jay said nothing, only continued to scowl. As soon as Addy popped the last French fry into her mouth, she wiped her fingers and looked at Jay.

“I have to pee,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. She wasn’t sure what sick satisfaction she got out of annoying him, but she did.

“We were just at the motel. Why didn’t you pee then?”

“I didn’t have to go then,” she said. “I have to go now.”

“Seriously?”

“Um. Seriously, Jay,” Addy said.

He rolled his eyes and stood up, looking less than thrilled, but she knew he couldn’t make a scene in public.

“I know where the bathroom is,” Addy said. “I’ve also been potty trained. I can do it myself.”

“After that circus act you pulled in the car? I don’t think so. Come on.” He took her arm, more gently this time, she noticed and led her along the aisle of tables and chairs.

“What are you doing?” They stopped in front of the restroom door.

Jay dropped her arm and started forward, ignoring her protests.

“That’s the ladies’ room.” She watched wide-eyed as he stepped into the bathroom, making it a point to check every empty stall as he did so.

“I can’t take my chances,” he said. “Not after what you did outside.”

“I thought we were past your insecurities,” said Addy. “Insecurities are the gateway to a terrible relationship, Jay. Everybody knows that.”

He stared at her, looking anything but amused. “Can you just pee now?”

“Fine. Shut the door.”

“Five minutes,” he said. “And don’t fucking lock it. I’ll check.”

As he closed the door behind him on his way out, Addy finally allowed herself to breathe. In front of him, she would keep her guard up. No breaking down. No crying. No being the victim. But when she was alone, she could feel her confidence crumble, and she saw the pain and hurt in her own eyes when she looked at herself in the mirror. She had to stay strong; she had to keep that wall up and never allow him to break it down. It was her only chance at getting out alive.

Under the jacket, she felt smothered and hot, like she’d been lying under the sun in a winter coat for too long. She unzipped the jacket and took it off for a moment to cool down, then peeled off her skimpy tank top as a heat flash came over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, in only jeans and her bra now, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the jagged red scars up and down both arms. Old scars and fresh scars. Long and short—some dreadfully deep and others only cosmetic; scars toting the burden of pain and hurt and betrayal and jealousy. Her oldest scar was marked at the tender age of thirteen—her newest one from the night of the party.

The bruises on her arms from where Ryan had once upon a time grabbed her in drunken anger were fading, but the nasty one on her chest boasted a dark purple and blue color. When she thought of Ryan this time, she was angry. Angry at him, per usual, but even more angry at herself. There was something wrong with her, something that haunted her very core every day she stayed with a man like Ryan. Because, God, she loved him.

And she hated him. She fucking hated him with so much passion it frightened her sometimes. And more than she hated what Ryan did to her, she hated what she let Ryan do to her even more.

Running the water in the sink on cold, Addy splashed her face and rubbed the coolness on her chest, trying to get a grip. Fuck Ryan, he couldn’t help her now. So, what were her options? She could lock herself in the bathroom and hope that someone besides Jay would come to her rescue. She could try to sneak past him and out the door, but he was too smart for that. She doubted he was far from the door at that very moment.

Addy pulled her tangled, wavy hair away from her face and into a messy bun, allowing the air to cool down the back of her neck. She leaned down to splash her face once more when the soap dispenser caught her eye. She looked rapidly back at the door, expecting Jay to be standing there, but she was still alone.

Frantically, Addy pumped a few squirts of soap into her hands and rubbed them together, lathering it up. She looked once more toward the door then stood on her toes to scrawl words onto the mirror.

Adaline Harding

Kidnapped in SilverSUV

Call Police!!!

She cranked on the sink to wash her hands before reaching for her jacket to put it back on. She was about to slip out when there was a rap on the door. She froze, a deer in headlights.

“There’s someone in here!” she shouted. “I’m not dre—” She stopped, horrified, as the knob turned, and the door opened. Ignoring her protests, Jay stepped in, shutting it behind him. Shame and embarrassment tugged at Addy as she struggled to cover the upper half of her body, defenseless under Jay’s sharp gaze.

“Did you get lost?”

“Fuck you.” Skin on fire, Addy saw Jay’s eyes travel up and down the uncovered part of her body. He said nothing more, but his expression was neutral, difficult to read. She yanked her jacket on and fumbled with the zipper in anger, flustered and hot with discomfort. Her hands were shaking with rage, itching to bash his nose in.

“You’re an asshole,” she said.

Jay looked unruffled, as though he hadn’t just caught her standing half-naked in the bathroom. She walked toward him to hurry them out, but it was too late. He caught a glimpse of the message written on the mirror and froze, his eyes flicking back to Addy. Before she could say anything, he rushed forward, shoving past her for a handful of paper towels that he used to scrub the soap from the mirror. He was mumbling under his breath, but Addy could only make out the words idiot and fuckitall.

Saying nothing, Jay grabbed hold of Addy and dragged her toward the door as she struggled to get her sweatshirt done up. His hand dropped from her upper arm to just below her elbow in front of people, but his grip was seething with fury. They passed their table and Jay dropped some crumpled bills onto their check.

Addy watched the faces of strangers pass as they walked out of the restaurant. They were all so naïve to the situation, absorbed so heavily in their own lives they wouldn’t have a clue.

“We can only drive for so long, you know,” Addy said. Jay threw the keys to her and slid into the passenger’s seat as Addy settled behind the wheel. “Eventually every road ends. You can’t run forever.” She cleared her throat, thinking of the scars engraved in her skin.

Trust me; I’ve tried.

“Watch me,” Jay said.

With a sigh, she lowered herself back into Ryan’s car and turned on the engine. Somewhere behind them, hundreds and hundreds of miles out of reach, her home faded farther and farther into the distance.