Beautiful Wilting Flowers

So Who Wears The Pants?

Ina POV:

"Get off me!" I grunt, thrusting my arm out of Jason's grip. "Even if you own me right now, that doesn't mean you get to drag me wherever you want." I huff, looking out the window of his red Honda Civic.

"Baby, I don't own you." He laughs, keeping his eye on the wheel. "You wear the pants in this relationship."

"And you just tell me which pair to wear." I mutter, exasperated. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere. Not too sure. Just wanted to get that bastard away from my girlfriend." He takes one hand off the steering wheel to take my hand.

"You're really playing it up, aren't you?" I swing my head back to him. "Were alone now, you don't have to make it so realistic. Unless you really are crazy, and you think that Greigh is spying on us right now. And he's not a bastard, just so you know. The real bastard is still next to your girlfriend."

Jason throws his head back a little, laughing.

"Damn girl, you really know how to burn a guy." He whistles.

"Nah, I'm just telling it like it is." I give him a glare, and he shrugs.

"Whatever. I think you're warming up to me." He gives me a proud smile, and I roll my eyes. How much more oblivious can anyone be?

"Jason, I have things I need to do. People I need to see. I don't have time to have driving me around town aimlessly, disrespecting my friends, on top of all of the dirt you have. I agreed to be your girlfriend for show. Is that not enough? I'm doing this only to keep Greigh's secrets safe, and if you think that I'm warming up to you, you're largely mistaken." I slam my hands down on the center console.

"Oh, come on. I'm tall, only a little older, rich, what more do you need?" He laughs, I think joking with the cockiness but it's hard to tell.

"You're right, Jason." I lean over the console, and get up in his face, taunting him. "You're tall, wealthy, older, and all the other things. I could be set for life." I nod, and he grins.

"Then where's the issue?" He raises an eyebrow, still having eyes on the road.

"My type is quite the opposite." I whisper in a taunt, and go back to sit in the passenger seat.

Jason doesn't say anything for a minute, but then taps the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern.

"So... that makes you attracted to Greigh?" He smirks, knowing that'll get on my nerves.

I grit my teeth together, and fold my arms so tight that my fingernails might draw blood.

"No. Now get me somewhere before I vomit onto your lap thanks to your comments and driving," I glower as he opens his mouth to say something. "And no, before you say it first, I will not call you James Bond. You could not blackmail me into that."

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Jason finally ends up deciding he's hungry, so we stop at a fast food joint. Opening the door like a gentleman, he lets me in first. Although I know he's just doing this for show; everything else is too.

We find a booth at the corner of the restaurant, and I fiddle with the straw of my water.

"So, what did you need?" I ask coldly, and Jason laughs.

"Did I need a reason to drag you away from your mission?" He asks, and I nod, rolling my eyes. "Fine. We can... come up with more stuff for me to make you do."

"No way." I say, refusing to acknowledge the idea.

"You're not really in the position to refuse." He sighs, mockingly apologetic.

"I know, idiot, but I wanted to see if you had even a little empathy left over." I coldly slurp from my straw. "Turns put you never had any in the first place."

"Oh, Ina, if you think that I'm cold hearted, meet my parents." He snaps his fingers in a burst of inspiration. "I should make a tee shirt that says that."

"You and me both." I mutter.

Jason's eyes light up in a sensation of something.

"Parental issues?" He says excitedly. "Finally, something in common with my girlfriend. I was starting to wonder if you live under a rock."

"No, but I might as well." I sigh. "I live with a Costco Spaghetti maniac, and we live in freaking Canada. Nothing happens there."

No offense to Canadians or anything, but all they have is maple syrup and lacrosse. For the record; lacrosse is legit just hardcore scoops and balls.

"Hey, Canadas nice. The people are friendly. They say sorry a lot, and think that everything is their fault so that you don't have to feel bad." Jason laughs.

"Nah, that's a stereotype. A lot of Canadian people I've interacted with are real hot-headed." I tell him, and he shrugs.

"They can't be that bad." He rolls his eyes.

"I can count a number of times where I was too tempered to notice the hotheads, and they lashed out at me. Usually, Dean's there to keep them away, but sometimes I have to defend my own honor." I shrug.

"So where are you all from, then?" Jason leans across the table, curious.

"You can't use any of this against me, right?" I ask cautiously.

"How would I use that against you? Kill your parents like I did Vek's dad? Well, not me, in particular, but..." He rolls his eyes.

"Yeah I guess it doesn't matter," I don't really care what happens to my parents. "I was born and raised in New York, Dean in Canada. He likes to live close to family, and being a friend, he offered me to move in with him." I say.

"And ever since?"

"Yep, the same old house, the same old country. I thought a number of times about asking Liana or Heyden about moving in, but Liana sort of betrayed me, and Heyden wasn't really a close friend at all back then." I tell him, afraid of what secrets he would divulge if I didn't.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" A waitress strolls up, and I pause. What am I doing? I didn't even fight Jason about it. I want to defend Greigh's secrets, but I need to put up a fight for myself as well.

"Actually, we were about to leave; my appetite just cleared." I hold an hand out to Jason after sliding out of the booth, with a phony girlfriend smile. "Come on, Jason, I don't feel so hot."

When he gives me a grit teethed smile, I shrug.

"Okay, suit yourself. I'll be waiting in the car." I tell him.

But I won't be there. It's time to bring on a little thing I call Scorched Earth. Prepare to lose your resources, Jason Turner.

Prepare to lose.