Fatal Attraction

Chapter Five: Alliance

Isla's POV

"Pull over here," I say. Jack glances sidelong at me and I give him a stare that says it isn't up for discussion. He gives me one back.

"Do you even understand how serious this is?" he asks. "I mean, do you know—do you know what's at stake?"

I stare at him for a second, my mouth slightly agape. "Do I look like I don't know how serious this is?" He opens his mouth but I continue. "No, really. Do you honestly think that I don't—"

"You left the trailer. I found you on a fucking bike by the goddamn highway." He shows no intention of stopping.

"I weighed my options, and you came up short," I say. I point to the side road coming up on our right. "Pull in here now."

He pulls into the gas station and puts the car in park, but doesn't unlock the doors. Instead, he turns to me. "What options?"

"Options that changed. The safest one went up in smoke. Considering that I literally ran at your car, it should be obvious you became the next best thing."

"They're after you for a reason. What is it?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because if it concerned you, you'd know who I am. Because I'm sitting in a car with you right now in stead of being chained to a ceiling, being beaten to a pulp right now," I snap.

He hesitates for a second, my words ringing in the car. "Why did you call me?"

"Why was I right to call you?"

"The handgun in your bra says you already know the answer."

"I never gave you my address," I say, trying to divert the conversation.

"I had you scoped out from the first day you looked at me funny. So let me rephrase: how did you know to call me?"

"What are you going to give me for that answer?" I ask.

He tips his head back against the seat rest and takes a deep breath. "I don't have time for this. Just tell me. I don't know anything about you."

"I don't give anything away for free."

He turns his head to meet my eyes. I don't back down. I let him look for the opening, for the key to read my face, my thoughts. I buried that key in a field in Europe over a decade ago. He gives up and looks away, resting his arms on top of the wheel and staring out into the night. I try not to notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt. "I've saved your life twice now. Isn't that payment enough for one answer?"

"Why did you save my life?" I ask.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because there are too many variables that are too connected, and I can't afford to waste any one of them. It doesn't mean I trust you in the slightest."

"I don't need you to trust me, Jack. All I need is for you to believe that I'm not on their side."

"Who's side is 'they'?" he asks. "Whose side are you on?"

"One that doesn't exist anymore." My words hang in the air. "There's your one. I need to go inside and get supplies." I look down at my hand, which has not stopped bleeding in the hours since I cut it. I would also kill someone for a toothbrush.

He puts on a cap and opens the door. "I'm coming in with you."

He keeps annoyingly to my side as we walk across the lot to the convenience store. There goes my chance of slipping out the back and roughing it until I find someone's cottage to steal from. But even that is a short term solution. It appears I'm in this mess for the long haul.