Precious Young Thing

the night before

JAMES POV

"We said our goodbyes, the night before.
Love was in your eyes, the night before.
Now today I find, you have changed your mind.
Treat me like you did the night before."

What an ironic song.

James tapped his hand on the small wooden table to the music that blared out of a small silver static stereo. He had pulled into the closest motel off the freeway. They had to stop to get some rest, mostly for Melody's sake. She was exhausted. Her eyes had been dropping since she had left Scott's, and the shock wasn't good for her.

Their new IDs were sprawled out across the table along with birth certificates and proof of "address", which James were fairly certain was a run down property in back town Indiana. Their photos were at least more acceptable than the mugshots the police would've taken of them.

James had a criminal record: the few mugshots he'd had taken back in England were relatively classy. Swept back hair, still shoulder length, but wet. He'd grown a full beard too, which sculpted his features well. He looked a lot more muscular too; ropes of muscle rippling under his torn blue shirt, tog tags glimmering at the centre of his sweat sheened, pronounced brawny chest.

Blood dripping from his nose: proud to not have had it disfigured. They'd rid him of his denim jacket as he was taken into custody. Someone had ripped off the feds about his possession and selling of London's favourite drug, ecstasy.

Mags Carter, his then squeeze and partner in problematic behaviour, looked more so messy. Her ruffled perm curls were doused in beer and her luminous red lipstick smudged in a thick line from her lips to her cheek.

Pupils blown out from drug consumption, jaw heaving as it chewed a ball of blue bubblegum desperately, she jittered with an insanely wide toothy grin.

He wondered if he would be able to go back to England and be welcomed the way he hoped. He wondered if Mags would be waiting for him, and the gang was still in tact. He hasn't contacted them on purpose to ensure they had no assurance of where he was.

"James?" Mel whimpered from beneath a bundle of blankets that he'd cocooned her in.

Lazily raising his head James peered over to see Melody's head barely peeking through the sheets. An untamed lock of bleach blonde hair stuck out in a tuft on the crown of her head. "Mm?"

He could almost hear her roll her eyes within the tension the room held. A single pin drop could tear it like a knife to the back.

"I need to pee."

He cocked a suspicious brow. "Do you want my permission?"

"No." Scoffing, Melody scooted to the edge of the bed and draped the sheets over her frail, bruised shoulders.

"Well thank you for the announcement." He saluted her with two fingers. "I'll be sure to listen in."

"Creep." She exhaled.

As she crawled from the bed and began raising to her feet, her legs shook and fell out from beneath her. With a frustrated sob, she flayed her arms and dropped to the floor. James rose to his feet in a flash.

Dipping down to her level, he swooped her gently up into his arms from a flimsy mess on the floor and held her to his chest. James grunted as he hauled her into the position of a baby in his strong arms. A hand manoeuvred cautiously around the side of her body, Melody's head lolling against his chest, and another beneath the backs of her thighs.

"It's okay, Doll." He cooed. "I've got you."

Striking the bathroom door open in one harsh kick, James strode in carrying his precious load.