Chapter Three

Veronica propped herself up against the pillows of the dusty king-sized bed as she nibbled on her sandwich of mystery meat and synthetic cheese. It was thoroughly disgusting, but she saw how J.D. eyed her as she picked at the sandwich. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her complaints, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with his bad temper. Veronica settled on choking down the wretched thing, thankful that J.D. had at least purchased some beer to chase it down with.

"So where do you want to go?" J.D. asked, glancing up from the gun he was cleaning, "Name the place, Veronica and I'll take us there. Just say the word."

Veronica thought it over. She really could go anywhere, but all she really wanted to do was go home. She was starting to regret following J.D. up the stairs and out the door to that basketball court. She wanted nothing more than to either be with her family, or dead with the rest of the school – anything but be here with him. She was terrified of him. She knew what he was capable of, and she knew that if he felt he needed to, he'd off her in a heartbeat. That confused her. He said he loved her, but she knew she was disposable to him. Maybe this was as close to love as sociopaths could get?

"I just want out of Ohio."

"Oookay," J.D. nodded slowly, "I can arrange that. But where. Surely there is one place that you have always wanted to go to – the place you've dreamed of traveling to once. Everyone has that place."

"Where is your place?"

"Wherever I am with you."

"You're such a coquette," Veronica sighed, rolling her eyes, "You pick."

"California?"

"California..." Veronica sampled the suggestion on her tongue, "Aright. Let's go there."

"Is that where you want to go?"

I want to go home. Veronica nodded and said, "Sure. When should we leave?"

"In two days. Tomorrow you can go to the bank and make that withdrawal. We can hang out here for a bit, then hit the road. Damn it, Veronica! Stop picking at that sandwich and just eat it, alright."

Veronica rolled her eyes and pointedly took a bite of her sandwich, fighting the urge to gag. Pâté actually sounded positively delicious at that moment.

"Good girl," J.D. grinned, returning his attention to the gun.

As Veronica downed her sandwich, glancing around the dusty motel room, she wondered what had possibly possessed her to follow J.D. She had wanted to be done with him, and she had wanted him out of her life. All it took was that one last kiss, and he had given her just enough of that powerful drug to make her comply with his every wish. All it took was a kiss. Veronica realized just how dangerous that was. She remembered a time when she was strong, an independent person – a time before Heathers, and before J.D. She was beginning to feel like a lapdog, but all it took was one glance or one kiss for her to forget herself.

J.D. sat the gun down on the table and pushed himself up from the chair. He meandered towards the bed, and kneeled at the foot of it. He titled his head to the side, and licked his lips. Veronica crossed her legs uncomfortably and raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher his motive. Finally he crawled on his hands and knees up to her, lifted the plate from her lap, and sat it down on the nightstand next to the bed.

"I wish you'd smile," he sighed almost determinedly.

"I wish I felt like smiling."

"You're prettier when you smile."

"Gee, thanks."

J.D. rolled his eyes and situated himself so he was now straddling her legs and had her pinned against the pillows she was propped up against. He cupped her face in his hands and titled his head to the side again. His eyes locked onto hers, and she tried to look anywhere else, but found that her eyes were just as locked onto his.

"Interesting position we're in," J.D. chuckled, brushing his hair back with his hand, "For instance, at this exact moment I could either do one of three things. I could either fuck you, kill you, or just hold you. I'm trying to determine which one I'd prefer."

Veronica opened her mouth to say something, but fear griped her voice and no sound came.

"Oh don't look so frightened. I wouldn't kill you, yet. And you're still a wreck, so there goes the fucking aspect. For now, can I just hold you like that night in your backyard?"

"That night was perfect," Veronica confessed, "Before everything."

"Before everything," J.D. nodded, adjusting himself to lie next to her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into the crook of his arm, "Gee, Veronica, sometimes I just don't think about things too well. I overthink, but not about the right things. Maybe I did drag you into this."

"I had a choice," Veronica reminded him, wondering if she ever really did.

"Maybe," J.D. nibbled on his lip a second, "I don't regret any of the stuff I've done, or that we've done together, but sometimes I do wish we could have that night again. Strip croquet was fun."

"Consider yourself special, I don't do that sort of thing with just any guy."

"What about the whole neighbor's swing set thing?"

Veronica shrugged, "Just because I am not a virgin doesn't mean I just do it with anyone, J.D. I have standards."

"Standards," J.D. smirked, "And here you are with me."

"My standards were compromised."

"I see," J.D. squeezed her tighter against him, "How about we get you cleaned up? I can rise down the shower – it's a tad scummy – and if you want, I'll wash that blood out of your hair."

Veronica was tempted to shove him away from her, now reminded of how he had slammed her against the cinderblock wall as if she was nothing to him. However, the thought of a warm shower was too appealing to pass up. She nodded, and J.D. rolled off the bed and offered her his hand. Together, they walked to the bathroom. Veronica tried not to show her disgust when she saw just how 'scummy' the place was. The shower had black mildew in the tiles, and the floor around the toilet was stained with drops of urine. She also noticed the black mildew snaking around the toilet bowl.

"I apologize for the lack of proper accommodations," J.D. turned the faucet of the shower, and twisted the nozzle around to rinse off the walls of the shower, "But what can you do?" After the shower was rinsed down as best it could be, J.D. made his way over towards Veronica who was now leaning against the sink.

"Come here," he instructed, and she slowly stepped towards him, closing the gap between them, "Turn around." Veronica did as he instructed, and gently, J.D. lifted her blouse above her head. He unclasped the bra, and let it fall to the ground. Veronica blushed, trying to remind herself that he had already seen her naked before. Her shoes, skirt, and tights were the last to go before her underwear. J.D. gently pulled those off as well. Now, she was standing in front of him completely naked and blushing furiously.

God, she's fucking gorgeous. I could take her right here, right now. I could fuck those beautiful little brains out. J.D. bit his lip and reminded himself to be as much of a gentleman as he was possibly capable of being at that moment. She's been through enough today. Besides, you're not into the whole fear-is-sexy thing. If you're going to fuck her, she's going to be into it. End of story. He held her hand and helped her into the shower. Veronica turned and let the warm water beat down on her bruised body. It felt like heaven. She slowly dipped her head under the faucet and felt the water rush through her hair. The water swirling under her feet was a horrible rust color, and Veronica winced.

"Turn," J.D's voice was soft, and Veronica realized all fear she had previously felt had dissipated. J.D. squirted some shampoo onto his hands and massaged her scalp gently, paying extra care to the clump of matted scabbing, "I don't want to hurt you, darling," his words dripped like honey from his lips, "It's all matted though. I need to get the blood out." No apology, no words of wisdom. Just that. Slowly he began to run his fingers through the matted hair, and Veronica felt the tenderness of the scalp instantly and winced.

"It's alright," J.D. tried to keep his voice level, God damn it, woman, if you hadn't been such a stubborn little bitch, I wouldn't have had to do this to you. Did you honestly think you could get me to just put my hands on my head and just walk out of that boiler room? You know me better than that, darling; and if you don't, well that's just insulting.

"Is it almost out?" Veronica asked, trying to hide the fact that, despite how gentle he was being, it hurt horribly.

"Almost," Don't wince and don't clench your fists like that. It almost makes me feel sorry I did this to you. Well, that you did it to yourself. Pointing a gun at me? Ordering me to stop my plan? Did you honestly think you would get away unscathed? You're smarter than that, darling.

Veronica nibbled on her lip while J.D. finished running the shampoo through the rats' nest. Finally he stopped and gently pushed her under the water and said, "All done. Rinse off."

Veronica obliged and despite the pain, the water felt nice against her scalp. After the shampoo was all rinsed out, J.D. unfolded a towel and held it out to her. Veronica stepped out of the shower, and to her surprise, he wrapped her up in it.

"You really should be more careful next time," he smirked, "Keep that clumsiness of yours in check. I don't want to see you getting hurt any worse."

Though his words were unsettling, he gently kissed her collarbone and stroked the ends of her hair. Veronica swallowed the lump of discomfort in her throat and faltered just slightly before saying, "I'll try."

Again, the voice was smooth, tender: "Good girl."