Look After You

The Drive

     Driving into the unknown, speeding closer to his fate. If anything happened to him tonight, how would Bo find out? Would he wait with bated breath for his window to open despite knowing, deep down, that it never would again? Would he start shaking from pent up sobs or from an animalistic rage that wouldn't be settled until his killer was torn to shreds? He never thought that he was somebody that anyone would want to avenge, but Bo changed that the same way that he changed everything else in his life. This man was dooming himself to the wrath of a grieving king without even knowing it. It almost made him laugh.

     Ryan had no idea how long he drove for. The roads he went down seemed to go on forever. Turning left, turning right, going on highways, taking back roads. He did all of that and more while he was behind the wheel, following the man's every quiet instruction. Being subservient pissed him off, but he had to bottle up his frustration up if he ever wanted to experience the emotion again.

     How could he get out of this? So many ideas came to mind, but once they were analyzed with that knife in mind, they ended with one fatal result. He wished that he could catch the attention of another driver, but with the man eyeing him from the mirror, any chance of being subtle was thrown out the window. He was being watched like a hawk, eager and anxious to turn its prey into a pile of scraps and bones. The more time he spent on the road, the emptier it became anyways. Fewer cars, fewer buildings, fewer people to notice the danger that he was in. All that surrounded them were grass, trees, and animals. There wasn't a single witness.

     Ryan swallowed.

     He looked at the clock. He had been driving for hours. He couldn't help but wish that he hadn't filled the tank up before setting off for Bo's castle. He wasn't sure what would've happened to him if he had run out of gas, but whatever it was would've been better than getting to their actual destination. Ryan stole another glimpse at the mirror. The knife was as still as a statue.

     "Turn here."

     He did as he was told.

     He wasn't driving on the road anymore. He was driving over dirt and rocks that made up a carved out path in some sort of field. One with grass that was overgrown and unkempt, tangled together with weeds that were just barely visible in the moonlight. He could hear crickets going wild amongst flora that would make Luke faint. God, he hoped that he saw him again.

     Ryan heard the man click the safety off of the gun.

     "Stop."

     He slammed on the breaks.

     He didn't realize how hard it had been to breathe until the car stopped. Ryan tried to scan the area, tried to find any signs of civilization, but he was met with trees that mocked his hope and grass that welcomed his blood. Past those things, however, was a cabin that he could just barely see in the distance. It was so dark that it was easy to miss. He thought the pressure in his chest would relieve itself at the sight of it, but all it did was add more weight to his heart. What if he did something worse than killing him? The thought hadn't occurred until he saw the cabin's falling shingles and jagged wooden steps.

     The knife next to Ryan's throat was moved, though any relief he might've felt was short-lived. Before his body could process what had happened, the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against the side of his head. The man shifted in the backseat, squirming in his spot before raising a leg over the armrest of the car. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan watched the stranger pull himself up from the backseat of the car and into the passenger seat. He settled into his spot without ever taking his hand off of the gun, without ever taking his finger off the trigger. Ryan noticed the knife in his other hand.