Page 14 of No Escape
The voice was right, but I was scared. So fucking scared. I was currently balancing on a tightrope of keeping quiet and possibly keeping my life or telling what I knew and guaranteeing my own demise.
The selfish, self-preserving part of myself was keeping me from spilling all I knew. At least for now. Until I could find a better way to take it all down.
He started to unwrap another sandwich when he stopped and cocked his head to the side, eyeing me with a scrutiny that was so intense that it sent a shiver through me. “You do know something. And it’s something big, isn’t it? It wasn’t just your mind making you say crazy shit. If there’s something you know that can help get you out of this mess then I suggest you sing like a canary otherwise you’ll be going away for a long time, Elle. I’m sure I don’t really need to tell you this, but you’ll never last in prison—no offense.”
“I don’t know anything. You were right the first time. I was suffering from a knock on the head and was delusional.”
He stared at me a minute longer. “Suit yourself. I suggest you get dressed, we’ve got a long day of driving ahead of us.”
DAYTON
I’d heard rumors of questionable afterparties and illegal activities that many of the elite partook in. There was never proof. And who knew what was true and what was bullshit. Occasionally there would be an outlier that would hint toward wrongdoings. Those outliers seem to OD or disappear completely from the public eye not long after their declarations.
I looked over at Elle in the passenger seat, she was staring out the side window as if deep in thought. Unlike the other day where her mouth didn’t seem to stop moving; today she was more sullen and reserved. Why? Was it because we were getting closer to her destiny or was it something else? Could she have damning information, but was too scared to tell what she knew?
Maybe if I gave her more reassurance.
“You know, before I was a bounty hunter I was a cop.”
She turned her head to look at me with a hint of a smile on her lips. “You didn’t have to tell me. I already called that the other day. How long ago?”
“I joined the police academy straight out of high school. I worked for the LAPD for seven years. I’ve seen a lot of pain and suffering. There’s a lot of bad people and bad things happening in this world. It’s up to us, as a society, to bring those who hurt others to justice.”
“Hmm. Why did you become a bounty hunter?”
“I needed a change. Seven years was enough for me.”
“I can appreciate that.”
“My point is that I’ve lost count of the number of instances where we’ve arrested people, generally low-life wife-beating pieces of shit, who got off scot-free due to their victims' fear.”
“I see.”
“There’s a point where the abuse has to stop. A point where you need to be strong enough to take a stand to make a change. Because if an abuser isn’t stopped then they’ll just keep hurting others.”
She huffed and turned her head to look back out the window. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
7
DAYTON
“I’m not going to go anywhere, Dayton. Honest!” she protested as I cuffed her to the bed of the motel of the night.
“You certainly won’t, not when you’re locked up.”
“I promise I won’t try to escape. My wrist is starting to get blisters.” She turned her wrist so I could see the welts beginning to form.
“I’ll get you some cream at the store across the street. I won’t be long, I promise.”
“Fine. Can you at least get me some fruit while there? I’d kill for a couple of peaches.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Leaving the room, I locked the door behind me. I made my way on foot across the parking lot and then the highway, to the small grocery store on the other side of the road. I’d tried questioning her about what she meant several times throughout the day as we drove, but her lips were sealed.
What was she afraid of?
Was my original thought that she was full of shit accurate?
