Fall - Prequel

05. Gasoline

I was somehow more afraid of my hometown than the killer sitting next to me.

My eyes strayed from the broken window to my lap where my hands were tangled together. I was shaking so bad that I couldn't keep still. I tried hiding it by turning my body to the side, but that only made it seem more obvious.

"What happened here?" Everet asked as we drove through the city slowly, at a disadvantage with the backed-up traffic.

I cursed underneath my breath, wanting nothing more than to leave this place in the dust. This felt like a cruel reminder from fate that I wasn't supposed to be here. I sunk into my seat, becoming one with the interior. I didn't want anyone to see me. Knowing my luck, they probably already spotted me.

"Nothing." I didn't feel like divulging in the darkness that was my adolescent life. I'd done my best to forget it myself, but this city was a constant reminder of every wrong decision I'd ever made. I felt like if I stayed here too long, I'd only make more bad choices. The fact that I was willingly sitting next to a murderer seemed to prove my suspicions. I needed to get the hell out of this place.

"Doesn't sound like nothing." He said underneath his breath, clearly trying to get a rise out of me. I'll be damned if it wasn't working. I wasn't sure what his agenda was, but pushing my buttons seemed to be at the top of his list.

"Why do you care so much?" I grimaced at him, even though he couldn't see me. His eyes were glued on the road, watching as the traffic jam finally dispersed in front of us. Our vehicle picked up speed, passing all the small businesses that made up the heart of the city.

"I don't."

I wanted to slap him and I would've if his hands hadn't been on the wheel. I wasn't going to put my own life at risk just to endanger his. Hitting him wouldn't make me feel better if I was dead. Unfortunately, I couldn't shake the feeling that after this was all over— no matter what I did or didn't do— I'd still end up dead in a ditch somewhere. I felt disposable; like I was a piece of trash that could be thrown out and disregarded at any given moment.

"What do you care about?" I asked rhetorically, stifling an ironic laugh. I was sure he didn't care about anything or anyone.

"Not much." He said through a yawn, attempting to mask it with a forced cough.

"You're tired." I observed him attentively, thinking about how I could use this to my advantage. Maybe I could convince him to let me drive the car. Then, I could make a U-turn and head for the police station we'd just passed. No matter what Everet said to me, I'd never fully trust him. My life wasn't safe in his hands. My life was in danger. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

The tone of his voice made a shiver crawl down my spine. He was being completely serious, not sarcastic like I'd expected. I quickly realized that he had no intention of letting his guard down around me. He knew I didn't trust him, but he didn't trust me either. I was foolish to think that he ever would. He wasn't the only one that was dangerous. I was, too. I possessed knowledge that he didn't want to get out. Knowledge that he had those people murdered in cold blood. I was an eye witness, although he made me feel more like an accomplice.

Was I...?

Of course not. I could understand why some might think so, though. If any surveillance cameras had survived that horrendous bar fire, police would see Everet and I sitting and leaving together. We were the only customers in the bar that night and the place was set ablaze immediately after the two of us left. That automatically made us suspects.

Everet knew that too and he seemed to be using it as leverage over me. He said that if I tried to leave, the police would catch me. And if they didn't, someone else would. I didn't particularly like either of those outcomes. I didn't want to be stuffed into the back of a police car and I sure as hell didn't want to be stuffed inside someone's trunk.