No Ordinary Love

It probably wasn’t the best idea to turn Elizabeth back over to Luke. Jason knew that he was opening a can of worms that he’d never be able to get the lid back on, but at this point he was out of options. The conscience that he hadn’t known he had, was unsettled. The only way he could see to clear it was to let Elizabeth free, and deal with the consequences of her abduction with Luke, and the truth that he’d never killed her with Sonny.

Jason hauled the last bag into the trunk of his SUV and shut the door. He walked around the car and saw Elizabeth emerging from the cabin. Something was different about her, had been since the night before. He wasn’t able to pinpoint what the change was in her, even as he tried like hell to figure it out.

It could stem from getting to know her better. Their little talk last night had left him with a new outlook on his already changed opinion of her. The more he got to know Elizabeth the more he saw that her tough exterior was more show than reality. It was the front that she showed the world around her while her real self lay just below the surface, vulnerable and open to hurt.

He would never forget the way that her blue eyes welled up with tears when he told her that his worry over keeping her alive had little to do with the secret she had, and was more about him being concerned for her well being, alone.

He might not know a lot about family’s and the way they worked, having left his behind after a life altering accident, but what he had learned from the infrastructure around him was that family cared about you. Even if he wasn’t close to his, he knew they cared. But he was beginning to think that Elizabeth’s family didn’t, or, at the least, had never shown it.

Jason shook off that question as he approached Elizabeth. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white t shirt with a smoking gun on the front of it. She had inquired about that shirt specifically this morning, wondering if it had somehow gotten packed in with the rest of the clothes he’d taken from her apartment. Her mood had been so sullen when she asked, he secretly hoped that Milo had packed that shirt along with the rest of her belongings. And he had.

"Ready to go?" he asked, stepping beside her.

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment. She nodded as she exhaled.

Jason moved her toward the car. "It will be a long drive back."

"Where are we, anyway?" she asked, fanning away a fly that buzzed in front of her face.

"Tennessee."

"Long way from home," she commented as he helped her into the car.

Jason grunted a response, clicked her into the seat and closed the passenger door. He went back to his cabin, did a final walk through and locked up before making his way back to the car.

"Let’s go," he said, starting the ignition.

As he backed out of the long driveway, he glanced at Elizabeth. She had her head turned away from him, her curly hair creating a springy barrier against his prying eyes. Grinding his teeth, he focused on the road, not looking forward to what would greet them in New York.

Elizabeth blinked hard at the bright sunlight that assaulted the back of her eyes each time she opened them. The sheer happiness that coursed through her at the confirmed knowledge that her sight was slowly coming back did little to alleviate the uncertainness she felt about what lay ahead of her.

Jason had been uncharacteristically talkative this morning. For a man whose vocabulary consisted of two word phrases and simple commands, he had found every opportunity he could to say something to her. She, on the other hand, wasn’t her normally chatty self. Something about the sudden change in Jason’s course had her on edge. She wasn’t sure what he had in mind for her after they made it back to New York, but she knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

She shifted in her seat, her bottom numb from sitting for such a long time.

"We’ll stop soon."

There he was talking again.

"I’m fine," Elizabeth said, cursing herself for it. She was anything but fine. Not only couldn’t she feel her butt, but her bladder was about ready to give out.

"I’ll pull over at the next rest stop."

"I said you didn’t have to," she protested.

"I know what you said. But did it ever occur to you that I might want to stop for myself and not you?"

His words hit her like a sucker punch. Of course, his stopping would have nothing to do with her. Why did she ever think it had? And why was she upset now that it wasn’t when just seconds ago she was fighting him on the very matter?

She couldn’t think of an answer to his question that wouldn’t make her look any less foolish than she already did, so she closed her mouth and bit her tongue.

"Look," Jason’s voice was quiet, calm. "I wasn’t trying to make it seem like I don’t care about your well being-"

Elizabeth waved his reassurances away. "I don’t need an apology, Jason. I was the one who took what you said the wrong way. By all means stop and take as much time as you like. You are the one calling the shots here, not me."

"And if you were?"

"What does that mean?"

"If you were calling the shots, what would you do?"

Elizabeth felt her expression land between a smile and frown, her thoughts were right in line with that emotion. "What? You mean- would I stop or keep on going?" she asked, perplexed.

"No. I mean, if you could take charge--right now--what would you do?"

She opened her mouth, "I- I’d..." and closed it, crossing her arms over her chest. He couldn’t be serious. What would she do?

"Come on, Elizabeth. I know that there is something you've always wanted to do."

"Since when do you talk so much?" she snapped. She didn’t particularly like being asked questions that held no greater meaning. It wasn’t like she had ever been in control of her destiny. Everything she did, she did because it had been mapped out for her. Never had she taken the initiative to do something for herself, just because.

"It’s a long ride; we have to talk about something. And don’t try to change the subject."

Elizabeth dropped her arms from their crossed position, resting her hands in her lap. She thought about all of the things she had dreamed of doing when she was a child, before she found out that her dreams didn’t matter. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Leaving Kentucky. Not too far from the Indiana border, why?"

"Okay then. I would make a call to the bank holding my funds. I’d drain all of the money to an offshore account that I could access when the time came. Then I would drive directly to Indianapolis International, buy a one way ticket to some European destination ... a romantic one. Rome, Italy--maybe."

"Then what?" he asked quietly.

Elizabeth couldn’t help her sigh. "I don’t know ..."

"Yes you do."

She really wished that she could see him, right now. Maybe she could if she tried, but that would give away too much. "... Then I would use that offshore account money to buy a quaint, little house on a vineyard. In my free time– when I’m not pulling grapes from their vines or spending time with my hot Italian boyfriend– I would paint."

The silence that greeted her when she stopped speaking was a welcome one. She was able to live in that dream she’d conjured up for a little longer.

"Could I come along?" Jason asked, breaking the last thread of the dream that lingered in her mind.

Elizabeth grinned and huffed simultaneously. "I don’t think that my hot Italian boyfriend would like you hanging around me too much," she answered him.

"No. You’re probably right." His voice sounded solemn to her ears, hollow.

"But if you promise to put those long fingered hands to work on my vineyard, then I could make an exception."

He laughed at that; a short burst of breath and warm voice. It was the first time she’d ever heard anything of the sort from him, and it made her more happy inside than regaining her sight had. She wanted to ask him why he never laughed--someone with a laugh like that; one capable of cheering up even the most miserable of souls, should do it often–but he spoke first.

"How long have you had that destination mapped out?" he asked.

"You’re lying, and not doing a good job of it."

Elizabeth smiled, thoughtfully. "You once told me that my body gave my lies away. How did I betray myself this time?"

"You’re wringing your hands together. And after you said it, you bit your bottom lip so hard that I thought you’d draw blood."

She rolled her eyes playfully, not that he could see it with her eyes closed. "Since I was a kid."

"Why Italy?"

"Because something about it is magical."

"You’ve been?" he asked, knowingly.

"I think so," she tapped her foot on the floor board, "not too sure, though." She could only imagine how he was looking at her. "I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t explain it any better than that."

"I’ve been, too."

Elizabeth was thankful that he didn’t press her odd answer. "Did you like it? Was it magical for you?"

"Yes, and ... yes."

Elizabeth felt the car slow and veer to the right. They must be at the rest stop.

"I’ll help you to the restroom," Jason said as the car came to a stop.

"I don’t think the other ladies will take kindly to that," she replied, reaching down to unbuckle her seat belt. She froze, sucking in a breath, when Jason’s hand lightly touched the top of hers.

"You can still do that, Elizabeth," he said, his voice holding a sincerity to it that was rare to come by. "If you want to, you can. I’ll even help you if-"

"Jason, stop." She cut him off, irritated. "I don’t live on false hope, just strict truth’s." She went ahead and released the belt, moving her hand away from his calming touch.

She wasn’t sure at what point their relationship went from captor and captive to ... whatever it had become, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She could deal with someone who didn’t care, someone who wanted her dead, but she had no clue how to deal with someone who was genuine to her.

Sonny Corinthos was not a man that was easily played. He knew too much, saw too much. He had connections that stretched across the nation. No one messed with him.

Only, someone had.

Sonny poured a generous portion of scotch lifted the glass to his mouth and gulped the burning liquid down before refilling the glass. He didn’t know where the feeling came from, but he woke up this morning knowing that something was ... off.

The seeds must have been planted with Jason’s strange phone call last night and overnight they festered and grew until he could think of nothing more than betrayal. The problem was, he had no idea how Jason had wronged him, but he knew that he had.

Over the course of the day he had questioned just about everyone in his employ. All of the men appeared clueless about anything out of the ordinary, and Sonny didn’t feel that any of them had been lying. He knew a liar, or so he had thought.

In his anger he brought his fist down on the chrome wet bar, sending his glass toppling over. Sonny watched as the golden liquid spilled from his glass splashing onto the white Berber carpeting. The sight was oddly calming. He took a deep breath and righted the glass.

"Max," he called out hoarsely.

The guard opened the door, a worried looking marring his face. "Do you want me to send someone in to clean up the mess, boss?" he asked.

"No," Sonny answered. "I want you to send in your brother."

Sonny didn’t miss the visible gulp Max took. The guard nodded and left the room. Sonny made his way from the wet bar to his couch. He dropped down, reclining into the plush covering. He heard the door open again and could smell the fear seeping from the person who entered.

He leaned forward, retrieving his gun from the coffee table. "Have a seat, Milo," he said, eying the deadly weapon in his hand. "We’re going to have a little talk."

Jason had once thought of Elizabeth as an enigma, he had been sorely wrong. He knew now that what Elizabeth was could not be classified. She was an anomaly, not a mystery.

He dropped some quarters into the soda machine and pressed for water. The bottle bumped out of the machine, as he reached down to grab it he let his eyes travel over the set of legs next to him. Legs of an anomaly. He stood, taking in the bags of junk food Elizabeth had talked him into buying.

The two of them had stood in front of the snack machine for minutes on end as he told her every sugary, sweet treat the machine had to offer ... twice. After much deliberation, Elizabeth had finally decided on Cheetos, vanilla cookies, a bag of Doritos and a Snicker bar.

"Did you get my diet coke?" she asked.

Jason figured that the smile she was sporting meant she was joking."I got your water," he replied, leading them back to the car. After they were both in, he revved the engine and merged back on to the expressway. They had taken a long rest, and he needed to get back before Sonny began to think something was up.

He still hadn’t told Elizabeth that he planned on returning her to Luke. There was no telling what revenge Luke would seek when Jason returned a blind Spider. He almost groaned at the thought.

He glanced over at Elizabeth, snacks in her lap, her head propped against the window, her eyes closed. He looked away, thinking about what she’d shared with him earlier.

He had never thought of a life outside of the mob, never believed he was worthy of one. After becoming an enforcer, he pretty much accepted that his life had become nothing but the mob-and he could live with that. At least he had a choice in the matter, Elizabeth hadn’t. She was raised in it, her destiny sealed as soon as she became Luke's adopted daughter.

What really bothered him, though, was that she wanted more–he could see it in the way her face lit up while she spoke about her dreams– but didn’t think she could have more.

Jason had meant it when he told Elizabeth that he would help her get that life she wanted. If she would let him, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

What had be become? Why did he even care? He didn’t have the answers to those questions, and he wasn’t sure he’d like them if he ever found out.

Sonny rubbed his sore knuckles. His breath was short and rapid as anger took over his body. The boy wasn’t talking and he knew something, he could see it in–Sonny tilted his head to the side, studying Milo--well, in his swollen eyes.

"What do you know?" he growled. His face a hair away from Milo’s battered one.

The young guard coughed, his chest rattled loudly with the effort. "Nothing," he declared, through a bloody mouth.

Sonny brought his fist down across Milo’s jaw, the guard’s head twisted with the blow and he spit out a crimson stained tooth.

"Where is Jason?" Sonny yelled, his voice booming off the walls.

Deliriously, Milo answered, "I don’t know."

"Bring Max in," Sonny commanded the extra muscle he had standing by.

Max entered and flinched at the sight of his brother.

"Glad you could join us, Max," Sonny greeted darkly. He turned, picking up his gun from it’s holding place on the couch. Pointing it at Max, he said, "Tell me, Milo, or your brother dies."

A whimper escaped Milo’s split lips. He looked to his brother in question. Max nodded once in response.

"He took the girl," Milo gurgled out. "She was never dead."

Shock and realization rocked Sonny. He felt light on his feet, uneasy. He knew Jason had betrayed him, he just hadn’t known to what degree. Now that he did ... he gripped the trigger of his gun.

"Thank you, Max, you can leave."

Max didn’t budge. "If you kill him, you’ll have to kill me first," he said like a man ready to die for a cause.

Sonny could respect that. "That’s why I always liked you, Max," he said, then squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out and Max’s body dropped to the floor.

He turned his attention to Milo. Tears tracked down his young face. "Your brother was a good man," Sonny said quietly before squeezing the trigger once more.

It wasn’t until they were just outside of Cleveland that Jason noticed a car trailing them. It was an inconspicious, blue sedan. Too inconspicious for his taste. At first he didn’t think much of it, they were driving a much used route on a much used expressway. But after switching lanes a few times, slowing down, speeding up, and carefully watching the blue sedan mimic the moves he made, Jason knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were being followed, and not by someone who was subtle at doing it.

Elizabeth had fallen asleep about an hour after they got back on the road. He had found himself missing the company of her voice, but now he was thankful that she’d dozed off. He reached over her to the glove compartment, quietly opened it and retrieved his gun, placing it on his lap. He didn’t bother to cock it; he didn’t know yet how big the threat was, and he has no plans of firing shots outside of his window while going sixty-five down a four lane.

Checking the rearview for a position of the sedan, Jason eased over to the far right lane when he saw that the car trailing them was a few cars behind. A green sign he'd just passed told him that they were one mile to the next exit. He pressed down on the gas a little harder, hoping to be able to out maneuver the sedan that was now crossing lanes in their direction.

Jason considered waking Elizabeth, he had no idea if the car behind him intended to open fire on them, and if they did, then the shots would wake her. It would be better to have her already up, expecting shots, than to have them startle her out of sleep.

With a curse, he shook her shoulder lightly. "Elizabeth."

She stirred, opening her eyes and blinking hard. "Have we made it?" she asked, only a hint of sleep in her voice.

Jason cleared his throat. "No. We’re being followed." That alerted her.

She popped upright. "Followed by who?"

"I don’t know. I’m thinking that it’s one of Luke’s men."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Not his style."

Jason was just about positive that the person trailing them was connected to Luke. They were probably after him for revenge. "You don’t think Luke would seek revenge for your death?" he asked.

"He doesn’t operate that way. He didn’t even seek revenge for Lucky’s death."

Jason merged off the exit. He came to a stop sign where he could go either right or left. Going right would send them into a heavily populated, he could see the fast food joints in the distance. Left would send them into the rural town. He went left, thinking that a quiet confrontation with the person trailing them would be better than a public one.

"I know you don’t want to think that Luke would ..." He stopped as Elizabeth shook her head vehemently.

"Listen, Jason, I know Luke. Sending people after you is not the way he does things. Maybe the person following us wants you for some other reason," she offered.

Jason’s jaw clenched involuntarily. "Maybe," he admitted. He checked the rearview again and saw nothing. No one was behind them, no one had followed them off the exit. Could he have been wrong about being trailed?

No. Impossible.

His driving slowed as he passed a sign showing the speed limit was a snail pace of twenty-five mph. No need to draw unnecessary attention to them while driving through this small town in an unfamiliar truck with out-of-state tags. One thing Jason knew about small towns was that the police rarely had much to do, so the one, lone road that led through them tended to be speed traps.

They had been driving in silence for minutes, Jason checking behind them every thirty seconds or so. Still, no blue sedan in sight.

"Are they still behind us?" Elizabeth asked.

Jason dragged his attention from the road to her. "No."

"Are you sure we were being followed?"

"Yes," he hissed. He hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, but he was beginning to question if he was right about bring trailed, and he didn’t need her questioning him as well. "I’m pulling over."

Jason waited until they reached an unmarked road and turned off onto it. It took them into a sparsely forested area, the trees weren’t dense enough to keep them hidden well, so he drove deeper until he felt they were in far enough to not be easily seen. He turned off the road that had turned to dirt a few kilometers back and parked between some tall but skinny trees.

Quitting the ignition, he turned to Elizabeth. "I’m about to walk back to the main road to see if they drive by."

"Well, I'm coming with you," she declared.

Jason started to tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere–with her not being able to see she was a liability--but her jaw was set in that stubborn way that told him that no amount of telling her ‘no’ would change her mind.

"All right," he said, quietly getting out of the truck. He stopped a moment to tuck his gun into the waist band of his jeans.

By the time he rounded the car, Elizabeth was stepping down onto the leafy foliage. He took her by the arm and began their walk back toward the main road, noticing that Elizabeth’s steps were just as quiet, if not more quiet than his own.

It was hot out, the sun beamed down on them through the leaves above. Jason wiped his brow as he looked to Elizabeth. She was a sight under pressure: silent and determined. For someone so small she threw off strength like a heavy perfume.

They made it close enough to the clearing that Jason could see the main road again. He ducked them behind some bushes and waited. A few cars passed by, none of them the one that had closely followed them for miles down the expressway.

It was time for him to consider that they hadn’t been being followed at all. That in his stressed out state he’d mistaken the blue sedan for something it wasn’t. He was about to turn to Elizabeth and lead them back to the truck, hit the road, and make haste back to New York when Elizabeth perked up like a cat on the prowl beside him.

"Did you hear that?" she asked. She twisted her body to the side, and turned her head in a direction he assumed the sound had come from.

Jason didn’t hesitate to pull the loaded gun from his pants. While he hadn’t heard a thing, he couldn’t deny that Elizabeth probably did. Not only did her current position resemble that of a cat on the trail of a fat rat, but she had ears like a feline.

"Maybe it was a squirrel," Jason placated as he stealthy moved in front of her.

"It wasn’t a squirrel" she quietly argued. "I heard a branch break," she said, almost inaudibly.

Jason wanted to curse. Here he was in the middle of nowhere, with a blind woman to protect, and no idea who was after him. He thumbed back the hammer on his gun and waited, listened- then, clear as day, he heard it. A couple of steps, heavy against the underbrush of the forest.

"Place your hands on my back and move with me," he tossed over his shoulder.

When Elizabeth curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt he stood and began moving. She followed his motion, step for step. He was making good time back to the truck when the unmistakable whizz of a bullet whistled past them.

Damn it. They were under fire, and he had no clue where the shots were coming from.

Jason jerked to a stop, backing up with Elizabeth trying to match the backward steps he took. He needed to get to the car, it was the best shelter against bullets there was at the moment. Cursing himself for venturing away from it in the first place, he took Elizabeth’s hand and took off. They ran, Elizabeth better than he would have thought for her lack of sight, toward the truck. Just as they approached it, another bullet whizzed by, just missing him, planting itself in a tree a few feet away.

His heart pounded, rapid in his chest as he set their pace at a dead run. As soon as they reached the car he flung the door open, hoisted Elizabeth up, and tossed her inside.

"Get down," he commanded when she began to voice a protest.

When she did, he closed the door and stooped down behind the front tire, with his gun cocked, ready, and waited.

Crouched down low on the backseat floor, Elizabeth waited. For what, she didn’t know. Was she waiting for the gunman to come of hiding and kill Jason, then her? Was she waiting for Jason to kill the shooter?

She blinked adrenaline tears away, clearing her blurry eyes with the back of her hand.

Well whatever was going to happen, she wouldn’t sit here waiting for it. Almost out of breath, she lifted herself and stretched over the center console, trying to reach the glove compartment, hoping that Jason had a gun stored there. No luck. She thought of hopping over the back seat to the back of the truck and rummaging through the bags--Jason was a hit-man, he had to have extra weapons stored somewhere–but then her eyes landed on the center console.

She opened it and found nothing but a few nicknacks. Knowing that there was often a hidden compartment beneath the one she opened, she tried again, jerking the console up hard. The hideaway area opened and there she found something she never thought she would see again. A Lady Smith. Her Lady Smith.

The moment of elation at her discovery was short lived, as a bullet pinged off of the right side of the truck. She snatched the gun out of the compartment and ducked back down, checking to see if the gun was loaded. Thankfully, it had a few bullets.

Elizabeth pulled the handle of the back driver side door. The door opened silently on its hinges. She eased out, careful not to make a sound. Immediately she saw Jason with his back to her, he was setting back on his haunches, gun in hand, but not aimed.

Judging from the shots hitting the right side of the car, she was able to understand why he wasn’t aiming. Let the shooter run out of bullets and then come out guns a' blazing.

She leaned back, copying his stance and rocked back on her heels. The movement made her bump the truck and Jason turned his head in her direction, his eyes landing on her, full of fury and confusion. His eyes narrowed considerably at her and he opened his mouth, only no words came out. Instead, another shot rang out. Elizabeth saw the exact moment that the bullet hit Jason, his body jerked violently forward, the gun fell from his fingers, and blood began flowing from the wound in his arm.

He groaned and leaned back against the car, gripping the wound with his left hand. His head lolled back, and Elizabeth knew that he was losing too much blood, too fast.

She had distracted Jason and he’d been hit.

Elizabeth had to push the guilty feeling away to focus on the shots still being fired at them. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled to the back of the car. While her vision was coming back it wasn’t half as good as it used to be and she couldn’t see that far. Trying to make out a shooter from this distance was impossible. So, she listened for the direction of the fired shots and shot back in that direction.

One, two, three shots- and she was out of bullets. Damn.

She crawled back to where Jason was, she knew he was still alive, she could hear his breathing, but she checked his pulse anyway. It was unusually steady for someone losing so much blood. She gave a silent "thank you" to whoever, and grabbed his wayside gun. It was heavier than the guns she handled but she would make it work.

Her bare knees scrapped against the dirt and rock beneath her as she crawled back to her position. Again, she waited for the shots, when she thought she’d found the right direction, she fired. This time with more clarity. The backfire stopped immediately.

She waited, heart pounding in her chest, blood rushing in her ears, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Turning back to Jason she asked, "Can you stand, Jason?"

He groaned in answer and shifted, trying to stand. Elizabeth rushed to his side, remaining low. With a lot of effort she helped his large stature into the back seat of the car and slammed the door shut.

Her palms were sweaty against the sleek metal in her hand and she was shaking so much that she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to fire again. When no more shots came, Elizabeth decided that either the gunman backed off, ran out of bullets, or she’d hit him.

At that thought she did something that she hadn’t done since her first successful hit. Turning her head away from the truck, she vomited. She rested her head back against the hot door when she was done, waiting until her uneasy stomach quit rolling. After a minute it did. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, before slipping into the driver’s seat of the truck.

She wanted to cry. But she wouldn’t. Not now, maybe not ever again, that all depended on whether she could get them out of the woods alive. Turning back to Jason, she bit back a gasp. His face was pale, lips blue. She reached back to feel his pulse; it was still there, not so steady now, though. With shaky fingers, she pulled the keys out of his pocket, jammed them in the ignition and started the car.

It roared to life.

Elizabeth pulled out from the trees back onto the dirt road. She would have to find them a place to stay for the night, and get a doctor, that was if she couldn’t remove the bullet and stop the bleeding herself. She would have to ditch the car, too.

Squinting through hazy eyes, Elizabeth turned slowly onto the main road.

It was well after dark before Elizabeth had done everything she needed to. Finding them a hotel room to rent wasn’t hard. The front desk clerk didn’t ask for and ID or credit card. Plain, old cash did just fine. He didn’t even question the blood on her shirt. It was that way in blink-and-you-miss-it towns, Elizabeth discovered. As long as you paid, no questions were necessary.

Elizabeth handed the man an extra hundred from the stack of bills she’d found in Jason’s duffel bag, in exchange for his helping her get Jason into the room, and his promise that he wouldn’t disturb them--no matter what he heard. He was even nice enough to give her the first aid kit that he kept behind the counter ... for an extra hundred, of course.

She was able to remove the bullet from Jason’s arm and stitch him up, the way that Luke had taught her. Jason stayed knocked out through the entire ordeal, and lucky for him and her, his pulse had begun beating at a steady rate again.

She still needed to get rid of the SUV, but at the moment she was too tired to figure out a way to do that.

Making her way to the box of a bathroom, she closed the door and leaned over the sink. She thought she might be sick again, and wondered when she’d gotten weak stomached all of the sudden. All that time in the fresh air mountain land of Tennessee had made her soft. She brushed her teeth, getting rid of the metallic taste that lingered. She stripped her clothes, took a quick but thorough shower, and pulled a towel on before leaving the bathroom.

Jason was still sleep when she entered the room. Grabbing her clothes, she dressed quickly, checked his pulse again--it was getting stronger–and left the room.

"Do you have a phone book?" she asked the clerk as she approached. She watched him take in her clean appearance, for a minute she thought he would try to get another hundred dollars out of her, but he bent down and came back up with a thin book full of tattered pages.

"May I use your phone?" she asked, nodding at the rotary on the counter.

He looked to consider it before finally nodding, yes.

Elizabeth thumbed through the pages until she came to the page she was looking for. She dialed the number, hoping that they stayed open all night, then let out a sigh of relief when someone answered.

"I need my truck towed," she said, then rattled off the address to the motel.

By the time the towing service pulled off with Jason’s SUV, Elizabeth was dead on her feet. All she wanted to do was go curl up in a bed and sleep. But that wouldn’t happen. She would have to keep a close eye on Jason through the night, make sure that the stitches stayed in place and that he kept on breathing. Her stomach lurched again, as it had each time she thought of death today.

She cleared her head, taking in a big gulp of country air. Her stomach eased and she started back to the room.

For no particular reason her thoughts traveled back to what she’d told Jason earlier today, about leaving everything behind and just going. If ever there was a time that she could escape, it was now. She had a wad of Jason’s cash on hand, and no one to stop her. But where would that leave Jason? He still needed her, and as much as she might want to deny it, she needed him.

She contemplated whether or not she had Stockholm Syndrome as she unlocked the door to their room and entered. Her thoughts were quickly drawn away from that when she realized that the bed she’d left Jason in was empty. She turned back to the door, dumb move because a hand clamped down over her shoulder, startling a scream out of her.

A familiar voice--eerie in its delivery, spoke darkly into her ear. "Little Spider, you have some explaining to do."