Just Another Job

Car Chase

This one is longer, hope you guys like it! Don't forget to comment and vote if you liked it!

Picture is of Ian, just because I love him.

I drove for a few more hours back the way we had come before stopping at a hotel. Ian glared out the windshield, his knife flipping around his fingers at a furious rate. He didn't speak, obviously hoping my mind would decide to work correctly and I would turn around. Jo was silent in the back,   not wanting to say or do anything that would affect my fragile decision. 

I kept my eyes on the road, my arms taut as I gripped the steering wheel too tightly. I didn't want to do this. I wanted to duct tape the girl's mouth and take her straight to Harting, but I couldn't. I almost turned around fifteen times in the first hour of driving, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Compassion was something I didn't do. Hell, I had almost hunted my older brother to death. It wasn't compassion or any other sentimental emotion that was making me do this. It was the look in Jo's eyes when she pleaded with me to let her go. She was telling the truth. Whatever Harting had planned for her, it was bad, really bad. And I wasn't talking rape or something, because though that is bad, I didn't really care. Sorry, years of ruthless hunting and killing will do that to a person. 

No, what Harting was planning to do had something to do with Jo being a shifter. I was sure of it. And I had a duty to protect our kind from exposure, or whatever else someone might do. I may be a debased, pychopathic killer, but there were some things that you just don't do. Exposing one of your own was one of them. It was deeply ingrained into all who shared shifter blood. 

The motel we stopped at wasn't that great, but better than ones we usually stayed at.

"I'll book a suite," I announced to the silent car. Not waiting for an acknowledgment, I got out of the car and sauntered towards the entrance. The desk clerk looked up as I stopped in front of him. 

"Can I help you?" he asked. 

"Yeah, I need a, um, suite," I said, unused to asking for anything besides a room with two double beds. The clerk discreetly stole glances at my black clothing and platinum hair as I rented the room. Probably thought I was a druggie hiding from the cops. Maybe I needed a new wardrobe. I realized then that this might be it for me in my career as a hired gun. Unless I moved someplace far out of Jones' reach, no one would hire a mercenary with a target on his back. They would just turn me in to Jones as soon as they found out. This little stand of honor was sounding worse and worse. 

Needless to say, when the three of us arrived up at the suite, no one was in a pleasant mood. 

"Prisoner sleeps on the couch," Ian announced, throwing his bag on the bed and stalking to the shower, slamming the bathroom door behind him. 

I sighed as I turned to meet Jo's eyes. "I'll take the couch," I said. I guess I deserved this treatment from Ian. He was the only one here who still seemed to be sane. 

"No, I'd rather sleep on the couch," Jo countered, sitting down on the piece of furniture. Her chin had a proud tilt to it as she sat there defiantly, clearly daring me to make her move. After the day I had, I wasn't about to force her to sleep on one of the beds. I shrugged and sat down on the edge of my bed, sliding out of my leather jacket and tossing it on the floor. 

"Suit yourself," I said. Really, I was starting to hate mysef for this whole situation. My partner was pissed at me; hell, even my former prisoner was pissed at me. 

"Look, I'm sorry that I put a wedge between you and your partner," Jo spoke up from the couch. 

"You can say that again," I muttered, looking at the TV.