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He fell silent again, so long that when he spoke, I almost forget what he was talking about. “Will you let me, now?”
I considered it, then shook my head. “No.”
“Marc,” he sighed my name, and I wanted to change my answer. But I couldn’t. It was too private. Too fucking hard to put into words.
One more hour down the road, and I barely kept my eyes open. I would have slept, if the constant ache didn’t make it impossible. I was so fucking tired, but I couldn’t sleep. Johnny chewed caffeine tablets as if it was candy and rolled down the window to let the fresh air pass through the car.
“Stop somewhere,” I groaned. “Before you land us in a ditch.”
He hesitated, but then nodded. We weren’t found yet. It meant they had no trace to follow. If they did, we’d be dead long ago.
It took another half an hour before he pulled over at a roadside motel, and my nights with Kaylie painfully reminded me of what I was runningfrom. Of what I left behind.
I stared at the building while Johnny slid the car into an empty slot and shut off the engine.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, and I clenched my jaw to keep the fucking ache off my face and struggled out of the car.
“Just need to sleep,” I muttered, forcing my aching body into motion. Painted yellow, and surprisingly fresh, the motel welcomed us with a B&B sign dangling above the entrance to the reception. To the right, a wing with a wraparound porch stretched out. A lake glittered between the thick line of tress.
Johnny checked us in, giving fake names that I was sure the clerk saw through. The curious looks she gave him said it all. But I didn’t care. Not now. All I wanted was a bed, and something to take the edge of the pain.
The walk along a stone path leading to our room felt miles long. I dragged my feet up the short set of steps that led to the porch, and straight to the door. Johnny took the steps in a flying stride, unlocked the door, and swung it open.
I sunk to the bed as soon as I stepped inside, then sat stiffly as I considered my next move. Lying down was going to hurt. Bad.
I had no energy left to resist. I had to let him in on this. Fuck sounding weak. “Give me those fucking pills.”
Johnny grinned at my surrender, then tossed a black bag onto my lap and I groaned, hating to ask for it. “A little help?”
He chuckled, sitting beside me. Rummaging through the bag, he found the tablets, popped one out, grabbed a bottle of water and handed the items to me. “Wanna sleep?” He held up a second box, and I groaned as I read the label.
“The fuck you still have those for?” I sighed, holding out a hand before he had time to give me an explanation I didn’t want to hear. “Give me one.”
Johnny lifted a brow in mock surprise. “Thought you didn’t do drugs.”
“It’s notdrugs,” I snapped. It was, in theory, but prescribed by a doctor, it was calledmedicine. Scoffing at the hypocrisy, I chased both sleeping pill and pain pill down with big gulps of water. He could call them whatever he wanted, but the relief from being knocked out for a while was too hard to resist.
*
I cracked heavy eyelids open and blinked at the sharp light from a ceiling lamp above my face. I groaned, rolling my head to the side to not have to see it. My whole body was heavy, thoughts fuzzy and slow as I tried to make sense of the surroundings. The off-white walls did nothing to establish where we were, and neither did the dark sky outside the window as I squinted at the moon shining through the blinds.
Turning my eyes back to Johnny, who was sprawled on his stomach beside me, I grimaced at his messy dark hair hanging in his face. How much did we drink? Where were we? Why was everything so fuzzy?
I rolled to my left side, attempting to get up, and a cry tore from my throat. With the pain everything came crashing back. This wasn’t one of our layovers and I had bigger problems than messy hair and hangovers.
The sudden pain in my shoulder was the wakeup call I needed. Shuffling to get away from the torture, I pushed myself back, off the injured side. I collapsed onto my back, panting for air while sweat quickly broke out across my skin.
“You could have asked me,” Johnny muttered, shoving hair from his eyes as he stared at me. “It’s that bad?”
I breathed through clenched teeth to avoid screaming or snapping at him. Itshouldn’tbe, if I’d been in my right mind and not crushed the damned shoulder under my own weight. I was lucky the bed was soft, or I would have popped the damn thing right out of its socket again.
“It’s your fucking pills,” I slurred, trying to stay ahead of the fuzziness and focus. “How do you function on this?”
“Since when do Ifunction?” he asked, and I snorted out a harsh laugh.
Before he could warn me, I heaved myself up while cradling the arm tight to my stomach and stood. The room started to spin. I blinked, clearing my fading vision. Johnny called out to me, his voice far away and distorted. His hands were on me, and it wasn’t until the pillow pressed into my face that I realized I collapsed. The shoulder throbbed, spreading a burning sensation all through my arm and chest until that too blurred and faded and calm dark nothingness wrapped around me.
When I came around, my mind was sharper, and so was the ache in my shoulder. Groaning, I tried to shift, to find a position that eased the pain, but all it did was make it worse. I couldn’t even move my arm to get me off my stomach without wincing. What was I thinking? I should have stayed in the hospital. Where I didn’t have to fucking move. I thought I could do this. A few pills and some help getting away from the people who tried to kill me. No big deal. I scoffed at my own ignorance.Right. It worked in the movies, but real life was so much uglier. Who was I trying to fool? This was more than a few bruised muscles. My fucking shoulder was torn, bones shattered and nerve-endings crushed. This wasn’t a quick fix, something I could walk away from with a few pills and stubbornness. It was bad. It was as fucking bad as it could get. The doctor didn’t say it, but the regretful look on her face was all I needed. My chances weren’t big. And I wasn’t exactly increasing the odds by twisting the damn thing again and again. But if I had to choose between my life, and a damaged shoulder, I picked the former. No matter how bad it hurt.
