Chapter Eight: Jay

“Hey!” the voice called.
Addy looked over at the small crowd of people exiting the bar, and her blood pressure shot to a dangerous level. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jay go rigid from where he sat in the driver’s seat. For a split second, she panicked, unable to fathom what might happen next. Home. Lisa. Ryan. She could be saved from this mess and never have to see Jay’s face again.
But then, as the thought of home nagged at her, somewhere deep inside something stirred, an unexpected pigment of emotion clutched at her chest. Sadness. Regret. Loneliness—
“Kelsey, wait up.”
They’d said Kelsey. Not Addy. Kelsey.
The crowd of friends—just a little older than herself—lumbered past, barely glancing in their direction. They were drunk and loud, laughing at something stupid one of them said. Up ahead, their friend, the one named Kelsey, stopped to wait.
“The car is ready, honey,” Jay called over his shoulder. “I finally found the keys.”
Addy glanced over her shoulder one last time to make sure the coast was clear before maneuvering to the other side of the car. She slipped into the passenger’s seat, taking in the girly smell of the car’s interior. It was cramped in here, so much smaller than the SUV had been, and the seats were laden with tacky Tinkerbell seat covers.
“Good choice,” she said, nodding her approval. “It brings out the man in you.”
“My thoughts as well.”
She held her breath as Jay put the car into drive and eased away from the curb. It wasn’t until the flashing neon sign from the pub was no longer visible in Addy’s mirror that she allowed herself to breathe.

They drove another two hours into the night, far enough away that when the car was reported stolen, they’d still have a few hours to keep ahead.
The stupid heater to the stupid little car didn’t work, and Jay’s fingers and toes felt like someone had broken them one by one until the pain was gone and all that was left was a dull numbness and the unpleasant sensation of paralysis. Beside him in the passenger’s seat, Addy had her arms around herself as she fruitlessly tried to get warm. Her skin was still pale, teeth chattering, and Jay wasn’t confident it was any warmer in this car than it was outside.
When he was too tired and too cold and too sore to drive any longer, he pulled off a barely lit exit and into the lot of a motel smack dab in the middle of what looked like the gates of hell. One or two other cars dotted the lot, but that was it aside from them. The shitty motel was the only public place he’d seen for miles, so they had no choice but to sleep there for the night. Jay just hoped it was far enough out of the way that he wouldn’t be recognized if Washington State Law Enforcement already had a photo circulating and a warrant posted for his arrest.
“Come on.” He pocketed the keys and stepped out of the car, and Addy followed. As she walked forward with him, he stopped her. “There isn’t going to be a problem, is there?”
Addy shook her head. She looked so defeated and tired that he wasn’t sure she’d even have the energy to narc on him and all Jay felt in his heart was guilt. Without thinking twice about it, he reached for Addy’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. She didn’t fight him, didn’t pull away. She held his hand tight, the cold of her skin matching the freeze of his own. It was all for show, but Jay found something comforting in the grip of her hand.
They walked steadily toward the door, trudging through the bitter snow, and an old man behind the front desk greeted them with a smile and a nod. He checked them in, nonchalant and friendly.
“Cold out there?” he asked, eying Addy.
“Our heater went out,” Jay said. “We figured it was about time to stop.”
“Good thinking. I’ll put you up in room 218.”
“Thank you,” Jay snagged the room key from the man’s fingers and forced a smile. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked for ID, and Jay paid the night in cash. That seemed to suit the clerk just fine, and by the time Addy and Jay went back outside to find their room, the desk clerk was already back to focusing on the crossword puzzle.
The snow had let up, but the air was still mind-numbingly cold as they made their way into the quiet of the room. Jay locked the deadbolt and closed the drab, maroon curtains behind them, and Addy sat down on the edge of the bed, stiff, frozen, and silent. That musty smell was in the air; mildew mixed with cheap cleaning solution and stale cigarettes.
“Are you okay?” Jay asked. He reached to dial up the hundred-year-old thermostat on the far wall. The motel room smelled of mold. There was a good-sized stain in the middle of the vacuumed carpet, a stain that looked a little bit like dried blood. It was something straight out of a poorly made horror movie. Jay wasn’t sure that the beds would even be clean, but he didn’t care. He’d lived in worse conditions than this, and he was too exhausted to give a shit tonight.
“I’m fine,” Addy said. “What now?”
“We sleep.”
“And then?”
“And then what?” Jay sat down in the desk chair across from her and leaned down to pull off his sopping wet and partially frozen boots. He couldn’t feel his toes, but he assumed since his skin wasn’t black yet, he’d escaped any form of frostbite. Addy watched him do this without bothering to remove any of her wet layers.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re even going,” she said finally.
“I didn’t think you cared to know.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Of course I do, asshole.” She looked at him, eyes narrowing into tiny slits. As she glared at him, Jay noted the flush of red returning to her cheeks, and relief washed over him.
“I can’t tell you that,” he said. “If you get away from me and go to the police, I can’t risk them knowing any more than you do.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t give a fuck where you’re going, Jay, as long as it’s without me.”
“That’s not possible.” He draped his wet socks over the heater vent and dug into his bag for something dry. Aside from an extra pair of boxer briefs he’d had with him in prison, he found nothing helpful.
“You were willing to leave me stranded in the cold in the woods, but you can’t let me go now, and you also can’t tell me why you need me.”
Jay peeled his wet shirt over his head and hung that near the vent, too. “Leaving you back with the SUV would have guaranteed me time to get ahead. That was your chance to go home, Addy, and you chose not to.”
“I wasn’t about to sit in the dark in the cold all night with no help,” Addy said. Her tone was laden with fury.
Jay shrugged. “I told you that if you followed me back to the freeway, you’d be coming with me. You agreed.”
“I did not agree.”
“You could have stayed there.”
“You left me no choice, Jay,” Addy got abruptly to her feet, and for a split second, Jay was sure she would hit him. Instead, she got so close to his face he could smell the light scent of snowfall on her. He almost stepped back but stood his ground instead. “You dangled freedom in front of me and knew I couldn’t take it—”
“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?” Jay interrupted.
Addy’s voice caught in her throat on whatever she would say next; then her jaw snapped abruptly shut. “Couldn’t. I would have frozen.”
“You could have walked yourself,” Jay said. He turned away from her, but not before he caught a glimpse of Addy’s eyes flashing quickly to his bare abdomen. When she looked away, the red on her face was just a little bit more vibrant. She lowered herself back down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.
“Why can’t you trust that I won’t run straight to the cops if you let me go?”
Jay closed his eyes, sighing. “I can’t take that chance, Addy. I just…I need to do this.”
“What is it you need to do, Jay? Why are we doing this?” She stood up again and crossed the floor, with less anger this time. When she met his gaze, her eyes no longer burned with fury, but honest curiosity. “I’m here, okay? You’ve made that clear to me, and I’m not going to risk someone else’s life, or my own, trying to escape. So, the least you can do is tell me why you keep insisting you ‘need’ me.”
Jay couldn’t hold her gaze for much longer. He dropped his eyes to the floor and reached up to rub the ache in the back of his neck and shook his head. “We need to sleep,” he said, side-stepping her.
Addy threw her arms in the air, exasperated. “And then what? We get up in the morning and drive to the next city in a stolen car?”
“If we have to.”
“Great.” Finally seeming to forfeit, Addy kicked off her wet shoes and removed Jay’s jacket. She held it out to him, and he took it, but now she wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Jay looked down at the jacket in his hands and sighed before looking back up at her. “I’m sorry I have to do this.” He stood to retrieve the rope from his bag. He didn’t like having to tie her up, but the last thing he needed was to be bombarded by the police while he slept.
“If you feel the need to tie me to the bed again, then so be it,” Addy said, rubbing her hands together. “But can I at least take a shower first?”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Jay said. A fleeting thought crossed his mind then; Addy, half-naked, standing in front of the mirror in the diner bathroom. Her cheeks red, her breasts barely covered by a black, lacy bra—the open cuts on her forearms. He hadn’t been expecting that. When he had first seen them, he’d been surprised, almost shocked. Addy had made her first impression on him a strong one. He saw her as someone who would let no emotional pain overpower her. But even the strongest of people could be broken. He knew that from personal experience.
“I just want a shower,” she said, and it took serious willpower for him not to think of her naked under a stream of hot water. “I feel disgusting.”
“Fine.”
“I won’t be long,” she said, heading straight for the bathroom. “Please don’t come in.”
She stared at him for a moment with her eyes narrowed, as if to make sure he knew that she was serious. Then she shut the door behind her, locking it, and Jay almost banged on it to force her to keep it open. But he was too tired to care. He doubted she’d be climbing through any window the size of her head. Instead of letting himself worry too much about it, he flopped down on the bed and flicked on the TV, trying to focus on something else—anything—besides the situation he was in.
The more he thought about that, the more he thought about his sister. And the more he thought about Ashley, the angrier he became at Laurel. Stupid fucking Laurel.
Jay turned his attention to the television, not paying attention, but soothed by the sound of the anchor woman’s voice in his ear. White noise was all it was. For a moment, anyway.
“Seattle, Washington’s Sheriff’s Office is asking for the public’s help in locating a missing Lakewood-area woman. Twenty-five-year-old Adaline Connor was reported missing on Sunday, October twelfth. Her fiancé reported last having contact with her on Saturday night, October eleventh. She was driving a 2011 silver SUV bearing Washington license plate number VIC-727. She was last seen on Interstate-90 with a male of similar age in the car. Anyone with information about Adaline Connor’s whereabouts is asked to call 911 or Detective David Callum at…”
Jay stared at the TV, recognizing the smiling picture of Addy at once. He had been expecting this, of course, but the reality of it hit him hard. He should have been more logical about his decision. It would only be a matter of time before the feds put two and two together: a missing girl and a criminal—too easy. He’d made it too easy, and now he would pay the consequences. Aside from that, they would have to be extra careful in public. Now his face wouldn’t be the only one people were looking for up on a billboard. Now it was double trouble.
Glancing over his shoulder, Jay looked toward the bathroom door. The water was still running. He had the option of leaving Addy there once and for all. While he kept telling himself and her that she was of use to him, the right thing would be to let her go. He wasn’t the man she thought he was, and he hated that he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not that she would believe him, anyway. He could do it; he could do it now. He could flee on foot before she even finished her shower to get as far away as he could before anyone caught on. She’d be safe, and he’d never have to see this girl again for the rest of his life.
But he didn’t. He didn’t for the reason that made Jay question the very core of his sanity; he thought of the man Addy would be running home to, a man who laid his hands on her, someone who left bruises and welts on the skin of an innocent girl who surely didn’t deserve it.
Jay was not a perfect man, not by any means, and especially not recently, but the thought of some coward beating a woman and leaving bruises made his blood boil. He wasn’t proud of himself for having been an asshole to her, but he’d never hit a woman in his entire life. Was Addy truly worse off with him than she was back home?
The water in the bathroom shut off, and Jay clicked off the TV. He didn’t need to give her any more reason to freak out. If she knew that someone had reported her missing, she’d be more inclined to get away from him, and it might ruin his chances of getting out ahead. She’d be less willing to go with him, not as easily persuaded. Addy was a force to be reckoned with.
The bathroom door squeaked open, and she came out still holding a wet towel to her hair. Her complexion, now makeup-free, allowed the freckles on her nose cheeks to shine through. Although the mascara under her eyes had washed away, they were still dark with fatigue. Behind that, many years of emotional and physical turmoil.
“Where are we headed tomorrow?” she asked, sitting down on the second bed as she dried her damp brown hair. She smelled merely of shampoo and soap, but the way her wet hair fell in tendrils down her back, Jay had a strange urge to touch her freshly washed skin, to run his thumb over her lips, touch her hair. Kiss her.
“You ask too many questions,” he said instead. He forced his gaze away, back to the darkness of the TV in front of him. On the other bed, Addy flopped onto her back, folding her hands over her stomach as she stared at the ceiling in silence.
“I’d ask less if you answered more,” she said.
“I told you, now is not the time.”
“Are you dangerous, Jay?” Addy sat up on the bed and looked at him. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she stared him down. Jay stared back, trying to keep his gaze from skimming over the soft curve of her neck. She was chewing her lip again, and the desperate desire he had to take her in his arms and ravish her was overwhelming. He blew a breath out to compose himself and looked away.
“Do you think I’m dangerous?”
Addy scoffed, but some hint of a tiny, annoyed smile appeared. It was gone before he could confirm that it was there. “I think you’re an idiot,” she said and shrugged. “And I believe that you’re trying to be scarier than you are. I believe you want me to be afraid of you because you’re scared of what will happen if you’re caught.”
“What makes you think that? What makes you think I’m more than just some jailbreak, homicidal maniac trying to escape from the police?”
“I don’t know.” Addy studied his face. Not for the first time, Jay felt oddly vulnerable under her steady gaze. “I guess I’m pretty familiar with bad people, Jay, and you just don’t seem like the bad guy you want to convince me that you are. Not to mention yourself.”
“I kidnapped you at gunpoint,” Jay reminded her. “I’m not a good person, Addy.”
“Well, you haven’t raped me or tried to strangle me.” She paused, and this time it was her who couldn’t hold the gaze between them. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her thighs. The fresh scent of soap lingered on her skin, intoxicating.
“Tell me, Jay, who are you really?”
“I’m just a guy,” Jay said. “I’m a guy who has something that needs doing, and you got involved without meaning to.”
“Don’t play me,” Addy said. She sat up, glaring at him with something that very well could have been disgust. “Tell me the fucking truth, Jay. Tell me why you’re running and why you have a gun on you.”
“Leave it alone, Addy.”
“Fucking tell me.”
“No.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.” Jay stared at Addy, noticed the way her breasts rose and fell gently with the unsteadiness of her angry breathing. She was on her knees on the bed, arms at her side, hands clenched into angry fists. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think you’re sorry at all,” Addy said. She sat back on her heels and looked away from him. “If you were sorry, you’d tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not the right time,” Jay said. He rummaged through his pack for the rope, unable to keep looking at her. “Now drop it. It’s time to go to sleep.”