Forced to Change Ch. 15

Chapter 15

"Did you just shoot at me?" I snapped. I sat up and stared at Jared, my breakdown ceased, replaced with volatile anger.

"No," Jared said quietly and lowered his gun.

"That was a bullet whizzing by my head! Seems like you just shot at me." I crossed my arms under my breasts and mumbled, "I can't believe I got in the car. Why did you get in the car, Katie? Why? Because you're an idiot."

"I shot the tree. Trust me, if I'd meant to shoot you, you'd be dead." He smirked at my private commentary as he tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants.

I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. I stomped toward Jared and invaded his personal space.

"Are you feeling better?" he growled, glaring down his nose at me.

"Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Good. We have to go, Katie," he said a bit softer.

"I know who you are," I said.

He froze. His face went blank and he regarded me as if my words made little sense. "Oh yeah? Who am I?"

My chin jutted upward, pointing at his chest. "You're one of the men who rescued me. In fact, you're the one who saved me."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair. I reached up and gripped his face in my gloved hands. "The hair's different. The eyes, too. But it's you. Yes, you're the one, who...the one who...saved my life," I whispered softly.

He mouthed "Yes."

"Thank you." It was a relief to know I wasn't crazy. It was a relief to confirm that no matter what, this man wouldn't kill me. I was safe with him. A part of me felt a rush of gratitude and I hugged him tightly before my mind had a chance to catch up.

"What are you doing?" he asked taking a step back. My hands fell to my sides as I realized what I'd just done. His eyes opened wide and his eyebrows rose up to meet his hairline.

"T-thanking you." I stepped back, a bit hurt by his retreat.

He stumbled back. "You just threw up."

"Oh." I flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"We have to go." He shook his head as if dazed. "Fuck!" For a moment I thought it was me and I cringed away from him, shaken by my impromptu affection. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Jared flipped off the battery casing, removed the SIM card, and snapped it into two pieces.

"Where's your phone?" he pushed me aside.

Jared rushed to the open passenger door and frantically searched the floor of the car until he found my purse. He turned the fake black leather bag over on the seat, spilling the contents. My cell phone found, he repeated the process of disabling it. He turned away from the car and threw both phones into the woods, where they smashed against a tree. Snow trickled down from the branches.

"Look, I'll answer any questions you want. Just get in the car. Now!"

I stared at him for a moment, then slid under his arm into the passenger seat. I collected my things and shoved them back in the purse as he raced around the car. His face was empty of emotion as he slid behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. The car started immediately with a turn of the key. He threw my truck into gear and sped off.

"Well?"

He said nothing, glaring out the window. The longer he was silent, the more my gratitude turned to anger. Beyond pissed, I crossed my arms over my chest and started babbling. "Is your name Jared? That was my father's middle name."

He didn't answer. He stared out the windshield driving my car much harder than I thought it could take.

"Where are you taking me, Jared?" I said, deliberately repeating his name. "Jared, why don't you just let me go? Why were they trying to kill you, Jared? Why did Carter want you to kill me? Jared, what did you mean back there?" I was babbling but I couldn't stop. I thought if I kept asking questions he'd answer me, out of some desire to shut me up.

Why was he supposed to kill me? When was he supposed to kill me? Earlier in the evening? Or back in Cantana? Why did he rescue me from Cantana? What did he want from me now? But those were questions I wasn't brave enough to ask. "What's your favorite color, Jared? Which do you prefer, Italian or Mexican food? If you were trapped on a deserted island what book would you want to have with you, Jared?"

The latter line of questioning got me a hard look, but not a single word.

My green monster raced forward, handling the top speed easily. I blew out a breath and sat quietly. I didn't want to think, but the car was too quiet. I was so frustrated by the silence I turned on the radio. Classic rock filled the car. I turned down the volume and changed the station. Country music. A dial change later we were listening to alternative rock, so I powered off the radio and crossed my arms under my breasts.

"Fine, here goes. I meant that he'd have to kill me first if he meant to kill you. We're going as far away from here as we can get. There is no real destination. We just need to keep moving. The reason he wanted to kill you is because of what you mean to me." He paused and murmured something under his breath too low for me to hear.

"You may call me Jared. I don't care."

"But that's not your name?" My voice was a question.

"No."

"What is it then?"

"I can't tell you."

"I mean, may I call you James or Maynard? How about Barbara?" I asked with exaggerated sarcasm.

"Not Barbara. It's not one of my personalities." He snapped in such a way that it seemed as if he was telling the truth. I wondered if he was making a joke. I stared at him and his lips quirked into an almost-smile. I took a deep breath and stared out the window.

"Moving on. What else?" he said. It sounded like he was talking to himself, not me. "I didn't let you go because...I couldn't." I caught the frown on his face as he continued. "They want to kill me because I know where the bodies are buried and I helped kill them. Or they want to kill me because I saved your life. It really is a coin toss with these people."

He took a deep breath. "My favorite color is black, I guess. I don't know. I like Chinese food, but I really don't have a preference." He sighed. "I don't know what book I'd want if I were trapped on a deserted island. Something long that I've never read before, I suppose."

Although he'd answered my questions, it all felt very random, as if I knew less than when he'd started.

"There. I answered every question you asked me tonight. I have an eidetic memory." He shrugged. "Yup, that's everything you asked me. Even the ones I didn't answer before. Happy?"

"An eidetic memory?"

"It's commonly called photographic memory. It means I have perfect recall." Jared frowned again.

"Oh," I said. We broke through the last of the forest and hit a back road. One question still formed over and over in my head. Finally the silence in the car was too much.

"What do I mean to you?" I said, biting my bottom lip. I turned in the seat, my entire body facing him.

His frown deepened. After a short silence he said, "I already answered that one. I don't know. Put on your seatbelt."

I sat back in my seat and did as I was told. I didn't understand him at all. I still had questions, but I was afraid. It didn't matter that he'd saved my life tonight. I was still his captive. It had to be a cruel joke. He'd saved my life once—well, twice now. Surely this was over. I wanted to believe we were heading home.

"I won't tell anyone about you. I can just go home. I mean, I'm not a threat to you," I said as he got on the highway heading in the wrong direction. I moved my purse across my lap and slid my hand inside. I searched the purse lining but my knife was gone.

"I have it," he said.

"Have what?" I tried to make my voice as innocent as possible. My eyes prickled with unshed tears. "Someone wants you dead, Katie. You weren't involved tonight by accident. Carter wanted you there. This isn't over. This isn't a game. You can't just go back to your life."

I swallowed hard. After a moment of silence I asked, "They want to kill you because you rescued me from Cantana?"

"Yes," he said.

"Well, thank you," I murmured. My face flamed.

"You're welcome," he said.

"But why would anyone want to kill me?"

"I don't know."

The snow piled down from the sky, engulfing the car as we raced into the night. My body was tense. I wanted to scream. Even if no one would stop me, I still couldn't scream. I was frustrated by that more than anything else.

"Why?" I asked, breaking a long silence.

"Why what?" He was scanning the mirrors.

I wanted to ask why this was happening to me again. I wanted to ask why anyone would want to kill me. I asked, "Why did you rescue me?"

"I had to," he said.

"But..." I started, but he cut me off.

"Look, just shut up! Shut up so I can think. Just sit there quietly and don't say a word. I'm going to get you away from here. I'm not going to hurt you. So just shut up already." His hand hit the steering wheel.

"No," I said quietly.

"What?" His breathing was heavy and labored.

"No. No! You don't get to tell me to shut up." I crossed my arms under my breasts. I was so angry I couldn't see straight. I wanted to hate him and so I did. It wasn't his fault, but it was his fault. I couldn't control my situation but I could control where I placed my anger and he'd just gotten the brunt of it.

"You can't just take everything away from me again because you saved my life. I'm in control. I'm not a victim." I wanted to hit him so I held my arms together.

"Fine," he said.

"I'm not a victim. I'm in control. I don't need you. I don't have to be here!" I sounded childish to my ears. I wished the sound of my own voice wasn't a comfort to me.

"Fine, but with me you'll be safe. I can protect you," he said.

"From the bad men who do bad things?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"But aren't you one of them?"

After a long silence he said, "Exactly."