Revelations

Chapter Three

“What is this?” Michael’s eyes widened as they stepped out of the diner. He’d slapped down a twenty - muttering about a waste of seven bucks - when Stacy came by to collect pay. Her teeth seemed too white as she grinned at him, sliding the receipt and a smaller slip of paper.

He held it in his hand. She must have torn it out of a notebook.  Michael looked confused as he stared at the paper. “What do these numbers mean?”

“It’s probably her phone number.” Jude mumbled, staring at her feet.

“Her what?” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“She wants you to call her.” She rolled her eyes at him. This guy must live under a rock.

Michael shoved the paper into the pocket of his jeans and started walking down the sidewalk.

She’s not too sure what to do. The guy had kidnapped her. Why was she being so obedient? Maybe it was the subtle fire in his eyes that scared the crap out of her. But something deep in her gut unsettled her. A smaller part of her urged to follow him, but the bigger more logical part was telling her to put up a fight. 

The scuffing of Michael’s converse stopped. It was strange. He looked like he was 17 years old. He just looked so normal, like any guy you’d see walking down the street, but some part of her just knew that wasn’t the case.

Even if she did try to run – to get away from him – Jude knew she wouldn’t get too far. They were in the middle of nowhere, practically. Sure, this was still a small town. There were people here. Families. But with no money, how could she get back to California?

It’s the fact that Michael does look so normal that she knew no one would suspect anything. For all they know, the two were just on a roadtrip. Maybe if he was 30 years older - had a handlebar mustache and huge glasses – people would get suspicious.

Michael continued to look at her. He was watching her and she was sure he thought she was going to make a run for it. She met his gaze and frowned. Why me? She wanted to ask. Why you?

Eventually Jude concluded that this was a losing battle, and she found myself walking towards him. They make their way towards the parking lot and to an old blue Cadillac. She didn’t remember the trip to the diner at all. She felt like it might have been kind of strange if Michael had carried her in and plopped her onto the vinyl seat. 

She had her hand on the handle and again she was reluctant. Michael placed a hand on the hood of the car and looked at her. It was almost like he was searching for something but not quite sure what. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been looking for answers herself. 

Eventually he opened the car door. It creaked, which concerned her. Wouldn’t it be just her luck that the car broke down on the side of the road? Well, it was just her luck that she was stolen right out of her own house.

Michael slid in and threw the backpack into the back seat. Jude followed and got into the car. She was startled when eventually started the car. Instead of the groan of an old car, the engine purred like a Maserati. 

It was stifling hot outside; at least 100 degrees. It didn’t help that the seats in the car were leather; it felt like the flesh of her thighs were boiling.

They pulled up into the parking lot of a motel. It looked kind of rinky dink, but Jude knew better than to complain. She got out, thankful to be away from the scorching leather only to be met by equally as scorching air.

Michael grabbed some bags from the trunk and led her into the motel. The lobby smelled like cigarette smoke. After paying for a room, they make their way upstairs. The floor of the hallways seemed to tilt and the walls looked warped.

He could at least fork out some money for a nice hotel. 

She was even more agitated when they got into the room and found a single double bed. It looked lumpy. There were cobwebs hanging in the corners of where the ceiling met the wall.

“One bed?” She asked, incredulous. If he thought they’d be sharing a bed with him, he was very mistaken.

“Unless you want to sleep on the floor?” Michael quipped, his voice trailing off at the end as he dug around in one of the bags. There were four of them all tossed on the bed, not including his backpack.

Jude huffed loudly and stood there, not quite sure what to do with herself. He was preoccupied; not too concerned with the fact that she could make a mad dash for the door and get away. He seemed really sure of himself, which didn’t surprise her. Kinda like the pretentious type.

Taking a chance, she walked over to the window and opened the curtains. She could see Michael flinch out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t do anything about it. Light filtered through the window and bathed the room in soft golden light. Dust particles swirled in the air.

It was a lot later than she thought. Her internal clock must be screwed what with being kidnapped and taken to Nevada.

The thought amused her, and she found herself chuckling quietly as she gazed out the window. The sky was turning scarlet with the falling sun.

“What are you laughing about?” He sounded spiteful and curious at the same time. Jude didn’t think that was even possible.

She turned to face him, her hand on the window-sill. Michael her there, his hands still in the suitcase. His body was leant over slightly, his hair creating a shadow over his eyes. It wasn’t not long in the way that middle school boys or those emo kids wear it. But it wasn’t short, either.

She took a minute to think about it. She’s sure it was best for her to choose her words wisely with him. “Just the fact that I was kidnapped out of my own room.”

“How is that amusing?”

She turned her face back to the window, watching the sun fade into the background.

“I just never thought I’d be one that extraordinary things happen to.” She murmured.

Jude can practically hear that little smile of his. The one where he seemed to know something you don’t. “I don’t think anyone does, really.”