Chapter Six: Jay

Jay watched her walk toward the door, head down as hair fell over her face in light brown tendrils. Her expression showed no emotion—no fear, anger, or hostility. It was blank. He hated that.
Never did Jay imagine a situation like this arising, and yet here he was a criminal on the run with a hostage in the seat next to him.
Shit.
He closed his eyes, panic crawling up his throat, threatening to bubble over. He had no idea what to do now. His original intention had been to get to Vegas, but now that he had this girl in the seat next to him, what could he do? He’d dug himself into this hole, and he was burying himself. Every moment he kept Addy with him was another moment lost; another opportunity flushed down the toilet. It was no longer all about him. Now there were two.
Jay fingered the gun in his lap with his thumb, the cold steel chilling him. Addy had a car. Dear Lord, yes, she had a car. His feet were killing him, his clothes still damp from the rain earlier. He was miserable, tired, and grouchy. And he knew, despite his efforts to run, that he was fucked six ways from Sunday.
He couldn’t waver from his plan to get to Laurel. Not now. He was going against everything good in his life to take this one chance, and if he fucked it up now, it would be over. Everything would be over. He was putting his life and future at stake for this one chance to make things right, and the complications had just tripled.
Jay had considered multiple times just dropping Addy off on the side of the road and taking the vehicle, but that was too risky. All it would take was a few minutes before somebody with a cell phone would stop to help her, and she’d call the police. If he were to get rid of Addy, it had to be at the right moment in the right place; far enough away from people that Jay could get ahead before she could report him.
Jay kept his eyes on the woman as she pushed her way through the front doors of the gas station, making her way up to the front counter. Fear crept in an odd sensation of doubt prickling up and down his back. Would she panic? Run? Scream? Maybe she would be stupid enough to risk her life and the life of a stranger. But he didn’t know. He didn’t know her, not even a little. She was a woman who had made the mistake of offering him a ride, and now she would have to deal with the consequences.
A figure passed next to the car window as a father and daughter walked hand-in-hand toward the faded brick walls of the gas station. The girl was young, seven or eight, maybe. The man stopped near the car as the girl’s shoe came untied, and he knelt in the parking lot to lace it up again. Addy’s gaze flickered instantly to the innocent people in the lot, and from where Jay sat, he saw her eyes flash a moment of fear. Fear for herself, but probably more concern for them.
Jay rested his eyes on Addy, and she held his gaze through the window. Her complexion had paled; she was trying to gauge her chances of getting help. There was only one of him and lots of them—would she dare consider it?
Addy’s lips moved as she approached the counter, pulling the crumpled bills from the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. She smiled at the attendant—a forced smile, he could tell—and the old man smiled back politely. For a brief, fleeting second, Addy let her eyes wander back to the parking lot, toward the man and his kid, and Jay raised the gun to the window. The glint of the steel caught her eye, and she turned away.
The guy and his kid went ahead to the gas station, narrowly avoiding Addy on her way out. Head down and hands deep in her pockets, she made her way back to the SUV. Jay grabbed the keys and got out of the car to pump the gas, pulling his hood up to cover his face. He was in the clear for now, hopefully. He didn’t know how fast the news had spread about his whereabouts, but he refused to take the chance.
“Magnificent, Addy,” he said. “You did well.”
She said nothing, only tossed the change at him as she rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door hard behind her. The coins clattered aimlessly onto the pavement. An older woman who had just pulled up to another pump frowned at them, and Jay smiled.
“It’s that time of the month, I suppose,” he said.
Around him, tiny flakes of white fell, frosting the ground. Jay looked up at the sky of black, allowing the frozen flakes to settle on his skin. The cold was starting early.
“Beautiful weather we have tonight,” he called to Addy through the window. He knew she’d heard him, but she didn’t look at him. Her arms lay folded across her chest, sulking, eyes straight ahead, jaw set in a hard line. Briefly, he remembered the bruise on her chest, the big one, ill-colored and nasty looking. If he had to guess, he knew all-too-well the story behind that bruise. The handiwork of a man. A coward.
Emotions overtook him then, feelings he couldn’t quite place, ones he knew were severely inappropriate given their situation. He wanted to tell her she deserved better—hell, anyone deserved better—than to be with someone like that. But he couldn’t because he was the villain now. He was a hypocrite if he let himself think like that. He’d taken her hostage at gunpoint, after all. He’d won the douchebag of the year award.
Pushing the thought aside, Jay finished pumping the gas and slid back into the warmth of the car. Then he handed her the keys, which she snatched from him, seething.
“You need to settle down,” he said, which only seemed to make her angrier.
“Where to now?” Addy’s tone was chilling, coordinated with the weather.
“Get back on the freeway.”
Her hand was steady on the wheel, unwavering, refusing to show fear. She didn’t speak or even look in his direction, but that was all right. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t need relationships. He needed a fucking way out.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Addy’s words startled Jay out of his trance. He gazed at her, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest. Her tone had conveyed little fear as there was no tremble of uncertainty in her voice. She’d asked him that as if she were asking for a tissue. Nonchalant, careless—as if she didn’t care one way or the other. He knew she did. She had to. She was human.
“Maybe. Why?” The response rolled slowly off Jay’s tongue, and the anxiety in his throat tightened. He looked away from her for a moment to compose himself, the headache seeming to worsen with everything that came out of his mouth.
Addy didn’t answer for a long time. He couldn’t read her expression. It was blank. Even now, she displayed no real sign of emotion. She was good. Damn, she was good.
Jay stared at her, wondering what in the hell a person had to go through to become so good at shutting down. Could one be so broken that they had nothing left to offer—not even hate?
“Why don’t you just kill me now and get it over with then?” she asked.
Jay looked away, out the window where the snow fell heavy. “I might need you alive more than I want you dead,” he said. “But I haven’t decided yet.”
“What could an asshole like you need me for? I can only assume that sometime in your pathetic life, you learned to drive yourself around.”
Jay didn’t answer because he didn’t know what to say. The possibility of needing this woman in the seat next to him was real, but he couldn’t tell her why, not yet anyway. It didn’t matter at this point what he told her; he’d kidnapped her, and likely nothing he said would make her feel better about the situation.
“Just FYI, kidnapping is considered a violent felony and is punishable by life imprisonment,” Addy said matter-of-factly when Jay didn’t speak.
“I know.”
“And you’re still okay with this?”
Jay shook his head and looked away from her, fingers drumming on his knee. “Just be quiet.”
“We have to stop soon. I’m tired.”
Jay looked at the time on his watch. It was almost five in the morning. He’d barely slept for days. The anticipation leading to his release date had fucked up his sleep schedule, and he hadn’t stopped moving since the moment he walked through the prison gates.
At first, exhaustion to the point of wanting to curl up and die cocooned him, but not anymore. Once he’d reached day three, he no longer needed sleep. He no longer wanted to sleep. But Addy—well, she needed sleep. If she would be of any use to him, she had to be able to think straight. He was getting desperate. There was no way to dump her without the risk of her narcing on him. Plus, the possibility of needing her for his plan to work was increasingly becoming a possibility. He felt trapped, a caged animal, and he was ready to lose his mind.
“We’ll sleep in the car.”
“Why can’t we get a room?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” Jay said. His eyes flickered over her face, noticing for the first time the freckles on her nose and the tiny dimple in her right cheek. Her long brown hair was pushed back away from her face, tucked behind her ears, which tinted red with aggravation.
“I will not turn you in, Jay,” she said after a moment. “I’m not going to risk anybody’s life, including mine. I just want a bed. We can continue driving after we get some sleep if that’s what you want.”
He pondered this for a moment, unconvinced, and uncertain if he should take her up on this. A bed sounded nice, and they were far enough out of the city he would be far from the police—he hoped. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be far enough away from the police to satisfy his paranoia. But what would he do with her at a motel? She’d inevitably escape. There would be people on every side. He couldn’t very well tie her up, could he?
He had to. There was no other way.
“Fine,” he said. “I know I don’t have to tell you again how you will pay if you fuck this up. Right?”
“I heard you the first time.” Her hands were clutching the steering wheel with a death grip. When she relaxed her fingers, an outline of sweaty prints glazed the wheel. He imagined that if she had a chance, she’d wrap those hands around his neck and strangle him.
“Pull off at the next exit,” Jay said. “I saw a sign for a motel.”
She did so without argument, coming to a rolling stop in the parking lot of a ghetto-looking motel with a flashing neon sign that read M-tel-v cancy. Paint peeled off the cement walls, and dead shrubs littered the walkway. The odor of stale cigarette smoke lingered in the air, though nobody was around. It was ugly to look at, and probably sketchy as hell, but it was a bed and a hot shower. Except for a beat-up red Ford that looked like it had seen better days, the lot was empty. He needed empty. Crowds meant people, and people were risky.
“Well, it’s not the Ritz.” He pulled the keys from the ignition and stuck them in his pocket and then picked up the gun and rested it in his lap in clear view before handing her another wad of bills. “Go on, then,” he said. “I’m tired.”
“You’re a dick.” Addy pushed the door open and stepped out, rolling her eyes as she did so. As she walked steadily toward the door, he kept his gaze on her, ready to react if he saw anything suspicious. Then again, what exactly could he do if she tried to fight him? Shoot her? Leave her there and try to escape as quickly as he could in the SUV before the town’s law enforcement cornered him? Yeah, right. At this point all he could do was pray to a God he didn’t even believe in that Addy would cooperate and not send him back to prison.
Jay watched through the window as the old woman behind the front desk greeted Addy with a nod and checked her in, obviously bored with the transaction. A moment later she came back out to the SUV and handed him the room key.
“Well done,” he said. “You might come in handy after all.”
The snow had let up by now, but the air was brisk and cold as they made their way into the quiet of the room where Jay was careful to lock the deadbolt and close the curtains behind them. Addy sat down on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands together, anxious, her eyes on him.
“What now?”
Jay looked over, catching the fear in her eyes as she watched him. It was almost comforting, he realized, to see she had more than one emotion. She’d been a bit sulky thus far, cold and void, but emotions were real. He could control emotions. He hoped.
“I know you’ll hate me for this but hate away.” He grabbed the backpack from the floor and rummaged through it, a moment later producing a long, braided rope. He hadn’t expected he’d need it on this journey but still had wanted to be prepared for anything. Five years in Boy Scouts had taught him that. He’d been an Eagle Scout, after all.
“You’re kidding me,” Addy said, and guilt stabbed him. He wasn’t this person, a man that tied up innocent women. He’d done stupid things in his life, sure, but this was pushing it.
And yet, he had no other choice, not even if it killed him.
Not yet anyway.