I’ve never been less ready for anything. I have no idea what’s happening or why things have to be this way. I want to go backto my normal life. As tough and hard as it could be, at least it was mine. And all I had to worry about was getting groped by handsy customers.
Something tells me it could get a lot worse than this. As dangerous as Jack seems to be, whoever he’s keeping me from must be much worse. I nod, too overwhelmed to speak.
He rushes me into the elevator, then through the garage once we reach that level. His black truck is shiny and clearly expensive, but I can’t exactly sit and admire it when it’s obvious we’re in a bad situation.
He doesn’t say a word until we’re blocks away from the building, about to get on the interstate. “Tell me about you,” he grunts, checking the mirrors like he’s making sure we’re not being followed.
The question takes me by surprise.
“About me?”
“Yeah. I want to know about you.”
“There isn’t much to know.”
He snorts before stepping on the gas once the light turns green. He’s moving fast, much faster than the cars around us, and I have to bite my tongue or else risk reminding him how much he doesn’t want to get pulled over. I mean, something tells me it wouldn’t be a great idea for a guy with at least one gun and I would guess a criminal record to get pulled over right now. Especially when we’re in a hurry.
“Hmm, I don’t know. Until last night, I was a server. It wasn’t great money, but I could make decent tips on a good night. I’ve been taking care of my dad for a long time.” It’s so annoying when tears threaten to well up in my eyes. I didn’t expect to get emotional at the thought of him.
“You’re taking care of him right now,” he murmurs in a flat voice. I can’t tell how he feels about it.
“I used to like dancing when I was little. I took lessons. But that got too expensive, so we had to stop. Um, what else?” I drum my fingers on my leg, chewing on my bottom lip.Why can’t I think of anything else to say?
“What’s your favorite color?”
It’s such a silly question, I almost laugh. At least it’s one I can answer easily. “Blue.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Pasta. Pretty much any kind. Though I don’t understand the idea of baking spaghetti. Like I don’t want to eat crunchy spaghetti.”
I look over in time to see him fighting off a smile.
“Yeah, that does sound kind of gross. I like pasta, too. What kind of music do you listen to?”
It finally hits me that even though he might want to know about me, he also wants to distract me. He’s trying to make this easier.
“All kinds. My playlists are ridiculous. There’s stuff on there from my grandparents’ time right up through today.”
“That’s really interesting.”
He doesn’t sound very interested, but he’s trying. He’s much too tense and worried to pay much attention to anything I’m saying. Even now, he cares about what I’m going through and wants to make it easier. I don’t understand him… but I would like to.
It’s not long before we fall silent. I don’t want to bombard him with questions, even the innocent kind he’s been asking me. I would like to distract him if I could, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. How much does he need to focus on whatever he’s planning as he drives us miles and miles away from home?
Will I ever go back? What must Dad be thinking right now? How is it that I’m only now thinking about him? Emotion wraps itself around my throat and squeezes tight until I can barelybreathe. I have to stare out the passenger window in hopes that Jack doesn’t see me crying. He must be thinking the ugliest, most terrible things now. I wish I could get ahold of him.
Would that be dangerous? Oh God. What if whoever we’re running from sent other people to the apartment after Jack didn’t come back with money… or me?
I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the seat, letting the hum of the engine lull me to sleep. It’s easier this way. I don’t have to think.
It’s only a few minutes until Jack wakes me with a gentle hand on my arm. “Hey, we’re here.”
I sit up straighter and look around, blinking hard. The clock on the dash can’t possibly be right. “Is it really past noon already?”
“You slept almost the whole way.” Sure, but four hours? I don’t recognize anything around us.
“Where are we?”
