I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. As I took in my surroundings, I realised I wasn't in the hotel anymore but in the passenger seat of Jackson's car. I groaned loudly, clutching my head while Jackson chuckled quietly in the driver's seat.
"It's not funny." I felt like someone was punching me in the head.
"There's some water and in pills there." He nodded towards the glove box in front of me. I pulled them out as quickly as I could, gulping down two tablets and led back in my seat, closing my eyes.
"They better have been painkillers." He laughed again.
"What you don't trust me, Leese?"
"Nope."
"I'm hurt." He pouted and put a hand on a chest. I just rolled my eyes.
"So what happened to that guy?" Jackson sighed heavily before answering.
"I dealt with him."
"And?"
"And that's it. He won't bother us again." A sudden realisation dawned on me. I quickly turned my gaze on him, mouth hanging open.
"You didn't… kill him, did you?"
"Oh for god's sake. I don't kill everyone that gets in my way, Lisa. You're proof of that."
"You nearly killed me."
"Yeah whatever. We've got a long drive ahead so just go to sleep."
"I think I've slept enough for a lifetime thanks." I turned my gaze back to the window and tried to figure where we could be. Unfortunately, it seemed pretty deserted. Long stretches of road, lack of trees, that kind of scene. I suddenly remembered that I've been gone for a day and my dad would probably be worried.
"Where's my bag? I need to call my dad." He glared at me but handed over my phone. I was surprised. I didn't think he'd give in that easily.
"I trust you." He smirked. I ignored him and dialled the home number. After a couple of rings my dad picked up and I told him a friend asked me to stay for a bit so I wouldn't be home. He'd gone through his 'are you okay?' routine until he was satisfied that I was. I'd hung up and looked at Jackson, who was staring in shock.
"What?"
"No screams for help?" I just shrugged my shoulders. Honestly, I had no idea why I hadn't told my dad and made an attempt to run. But I figured Jackson wasn't going to hurt me and he wasn't hurting anyone else so far so what harm could it do to go with it, at least for now? There was about 10 minutes of silence and we drove along the long stretch of road before Jackson spoke.
"That scar on my side was from a job that went wrong. The mark was like you, impossible. They tried to make a run for it and ended up stabbing me in the side. No big deal."
"Oh. Then why did you get angry when I asked?"
"I don't need you knowing stuff like that. Makes the whole thing harder. But seeing as it's pretty damn hard anyway, why not."
Why was it hard? I'd been pretty passive considering the situation. Suddenly I felt myself not wanting to exist. To just disappear right there in that smooth leather seat and not come back. I don't know what it was about what he said that made me feel so overwhelmingly sad but it did and I didn't know what to do. So I did the thing that everyone does when they're sad and confused; I cried. Well, I sobbed. I put my hands to my face and before I knew it, waterfalls of tears were pouring out of my eyes and down my cheeks. It was quiet at first and I'd turned to face the window, so Jackson didn't really notice. And as I sat there, movie-style sobbing, I realised how alone I'd been since everything had happened. It was like my life had stopped but everything around me kept on moving and I was left with this inconsolable ache. All the things I'd been missing out on because my fear kept hitting me like a full speed train. After a couple of minutes, I was wailing which meant that Jackson noticed. What I hadn't noticed however, was how quickly he'd screeched the car to a stop. I still didn't notice when he climbed out of the car and pulled my door open. Only when he yanked my hands from my face, was I forced to look at him. Before I knew it, he'd pulled me into a hug and I was clinging to his shirt, crying into his shoulder.
