Chapter Seven

I laid on my side, my cheek pressed to the dirt. Curled in a tight, trembling ball trying to keep myself warm.

How long had I been out here? The fact that I was honestly confused about that told me it'd been too long. It was dark now. Pitch black in the box around me, no longer daylight, and really quite cold for the time of year. Maybe it was just me.

I rolled over, slowly trying to keep my sweater down when my fingers found something I hadn't known was there. Peeking just a bit from the back pocket of my jeans, was the card. The business card with Carlisle's number on it. I pulled it out, recognizing the feel of the laminated square little piece of paper. I could just barely make out the writing on it.

How did it get there? Then I remembered. The hug Alice had given me before I left their house gave her plenty of opportunity to slip it into my pocket without me, or anyone else noticing. My fingers trembled in the cold as I held it up to look at it.

It was amazing to me. Just looking at it brought me comfort and relief I never expected. Just seeing it here made me feel better about where I was. Like even though they weren't here with me, they were here. I was alone, but I wasn't.

I had to question, though. Would I ever call the number printed on the card? I knew what it would mean if I did. It would mean I'd finally had enough, and I would be willing to cooperate.

I didn't know if I'd ever be brave enough to do that. After all I'd lived through, I doubted anything at this point would ever be too much, and was fully convinced that I'd never find my limit. That I'd just keep going through it like I was taught.

And by the time I did have enough and find my limit, it'd be too late for anyone to do anything. Or it would be too late for anyone to want to do anything.

And if I did ever get away, did part of me care what happened to Jack? Even after all he'd done to me? Oddly enough, I did. There was a small part that did care about him, because he was all I had for so long. Bigger parts of me also hated him, and feared him. Wanted to get away from him, but I also did care about him.

I'd given it so much thought, and fought with that small part of me repeatedly over the years, but had given in to accept it by now. It was just how it was. I was horrified over it, and hated myself for it, but what else was new? I wasn't a stranger to self-hatred, either.

I folded the card, and stuffed it back into my pocket. Just to be sure it stayed hidden. Curling my arms to my chest, my legs hiding my arms, I tucked my head and closed my eyes. I might as well try to get some sleep before Jack came to get me.

I wished I could at least hear the crickets tonight. To give me some sense of company, but as it was, the only thing I heard was the lonely sound of the slight breeze through the thin spaces between the boards of the box, and the occasional rustling of leaves outside with that same breeze. Silence.

I wasn't sure how long I laid there, until I jumped painfully at the sound of the back door opening. With a hitched gasp, I forced myself up. Scrambling up off my side, kneeling as upright as I could in the box. Immediately crying now.

Please, I begged in my mind. Let me out. Please let me out.

Each of Jack's steps from the porch came desperately slowly, as if he were taking his time. Enjoying the sound of my pleading cries. Across the ground until I heard him stop outside the box.

"What do you say?" He kicked the box, and I cried louder at the sound.

"I'm sorry." I whimpered through the wood, "I won't do it again."

"Yeah you will." He grumbled, but I heard the lock click open anyway. Seconds later, the door lifted open, and I stood clumsily to my feet. He studied me, "Damn, you look like shit." He gave a laugh, "I love this thing." He patted the wooden door and stepped back as I attempted to climb out. Tripping in my haste, and hitting the ground heavily.

I had to lay there for several moments, just to keep from throwing up. Nausea turning my stomach against me, making my head spin coldly in the fresh air I could suddenly breathe. I hated this feeling. He stepped around me, circling me where I laid.

"I bet you're freezing." He pointed out, "It's pretty cold out here tonight."

I didn't see the kick coming. His heavy boot landing against my stomach made keeping my nausea back impossible. Just once was all it took for me to lose my breath in a loud cough and the contents of my stomach at the same time, choking audibly on each attempted breath in.

With that one kick, I knew what he was saying. I'd fucked up. Badly.

He forced himself to stop at just one, stepping back. Away from me before he could keep going. I sobbed into the dirt, hiding my face with my forehead pressed to the ground. Both arms clutching my tight stomach, in case he decided to come back for another kick. My trembling breath didn't hide the pain in my sobs, despite my effort.

"Let me tell you something." He spoke instead, "I don't know where you got it into your stupid fucking head that you're worth more than I give you, but that shit stops now. You were warned!" I flinched at his raised tone, "I told you exactly what would happen if you ever pulled the shit you pulled yesterday. I fucking told you!"

I just sobbed, not bothering to reply. Anything I tried to say to that would just piss him off more anyway.

"You thought you got away, didn't you?" He snapped, "Huh? Thought you got away, and you'd never have to face the consequences, huh?"

"No." I answered shakily, "I was going to come back. I tried-"

"Like I'm supposed to believe that." He scoffed harshly, "You're pathetic. I don't even know why I try with you. Get your ass up."

I felt his hand close on my arm, but I didn't even try to fight him as he jerked me to my feet. Jarring every bone in my body as he swung me up, and shoved me toward the door. My knees and palms hit the ground again right at the bottom step of the porch, but recovered as fast as I could. Reaching for the railing to pull myself back to my feet, ignoring the pain in my shoulder now.

"I'm not sitting for hours to smell you." He growled, "Get your ass in the house and clean yourself up. You're disgusting." I hesitated to take deep breaths, but scurried forward as he slapped the back of my head, "Go on! Let's go. Move it, stupid." I wrestled open the door and scrambled inside the house, him right on my heels.

"Hurry it up." Jack barked from behind me, which only made me move faster, "I don't have all night, so make it quick."

I nearly tripped on my way into the bathroom, but saved myself by grabbing the door. I shed my clothing in probably record time. At war with myself over not wanting to stand in the freezing cold water, but also really not wanting to piss Jack off even more.

I couldn't help crying. The water hurt so much. Scrambling to get everything done while trying my best to dodge the water until I had to endure it, but that wasn't anything new.

"Good enough." I jumped at his voice filling the bathroom less than a few minutes later, "Get out." I grit my teeth through one last rinse and jumped out. Sliding a little on the smooth floor, but running passed him.

"Hey." He called at me, and I turned in my bedroom doorway. Getting a rough towel tossed into my face.

"Thanks." I told him, already drying my hair. I was actually prepared to get dressed while still wet. Just to avoid him yelling at me even more.

What was the big rush? He was in a huge hurry, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't figure out why. Sure, we were a day late, but he barked orders at me like the house was going to blow up at any moment.

Not giving me a chance to breathe, much less stop and wonder about anything. I was still very disoriented from my time in the box, but I had to shake that off if I wanted to somehow stay at least somewhere near his good side.

He threw my old clothes at me, "Hurry it up."

I watched him turn, and remembered to pull the card from the back pocket of my dirty jeans before tossing them in my 'to be washed' pile. I replaced the folded card into the back pocket of the jeans I wore now, trying to catch my breath and shiver violently at the same time.

"Hurry up!" He was back in the doorway.

"It's been thirty seconds!" I couldn't hold that back, no matter how much I should have.

"Don't take that goddamn tone with me." He shot back, "It's your fucking fault we're late. Get moving!"

I took a deep breath, yanking my light sweater over my head and grabbing a balled pair of socks and my shoes on my way to follow him. Fighting with my wet hair the whole way. He grabbed me, though, right outside my bedroom and shoved me back against the wall. What the hell had I done now?

I looked up at him, and he looked down at me in the sudden still moment in all the movement.

"How long's it been?" He asked, and I frowned a little. I didn't know what he was asking. He got irritated when I wouldn't answer, "How long?"

"How long since what?" I asked in reply, and he sighed in frustration.

"Since you've eaten, stupid." He clarified, "How long has it been?" He must not have noticed anything odd when I threw up earlier. I silently thanked myself for deciding against eating very much that morning.

"Five- No, six days." I answered immediately. Admitting I'd eaten anything sooner than when he decided I could was a very good way to piss him off.

"You didn't eat wherever you went?" He frowned.

"You told me not to." I answered immediately, "So no. I didn't."

He seemed to appreciate that answer greatly. I could tell by the way his hand loosened significantly, allowing the circulation back into my arm.

"I'll get you something later." Jack replied, "You've gone longer." I had. He sighed, giving me a nod and taking a fist full of my sweater. Tugging me away from the wall with a quiet yelp from me.

He ignored that, though. Dragging me through the house, out the front door as he slammed it behind him. I took a few seconds to breathe, trying to pull my socks on as he locked the front door and started forward again. I hesitated until he turned back around to reach for me.

"Just wait a second." I whimpered, which he ignored. Gripping my sweater again, and pulling me along with him down the steps. I gave up trying to put on my shoes and socks, just carrying them along with me. Running barefoot through the damp yard to the truck hurt the bottoms of my feet, but I literally had no choice but to keep up. It was either that, or be dragged behind him.

He yanked the drivers side door open violently. The bags were already in the backseat, I noticed, as he practically tossed me into the truck head first. I was getting so tired of being thrown around.

"Ow." I gasped.

"Shut up." He grumbled in response, "Stop bitching. You're lucky you're still fucking breathing."

"Lucky." I muttered sarcastically. Gaining a full open-handed slap, and a pretty effective boost out of his seat and onto the passenger side floorboard.

"Watch the tone, bitch." He sat down as I struggled to right myself. I grunted in discomfort, but I was alright, "Get in the back."

I immediately did as he said. Scrambling my way between the front seats. Settling into the small open spot in the back passenger seat on the backseat bench, the bags beside me actually making me feel more secure.

We left the house behind quickly, practically tearing up the dirt of the driveway.

"Where are we going?" I could ask that now that I wasn't afraid of him hitting me. He'd have to stop, or risk hitting a tree.

"I already told you that." He replied, "We're going to make you disappear." Yet, he promised food later? I found that odd.

"Am I going to die?" I had to know.

"I'm still considering that." He growled, "So shut the fuck up."

I fell quiet, deciding not to press him.

I stared out the window at the passing trees, letting my mind drift for once. Back to Alice, where it had been going a lot lately. I wondered if they worried about where I was.

It was amazing to me that somehow, the fact that I remembered them was enough to grab their attention to that degree. Alice had told me she liked me. I doubted she knew how much that meant to me. She'd never know how much that meant to me. She'd never know how much it meant to me that she tried as hard as she did. Even if it did result in me being locked away in a tiny box for most of the day.

It would take me awhile to figure this out, but I felt like they would wait. I hoped, anyway. What Alice said while I was eavesdropping was probably right. She was right, even if she couldn't convince herself of that. I knew what she meant now.

If they pushed me, I'd push back. The whole night before proved that. I wasn't moving. I wasn't budging, even if it would have been the smart thing to do.

"You know," Jack spoke up, taking my attention again, "If I wanted to, I could have the whole lot of them thrown in jail." My heart dropped, "Yeah, I looked up that number." Fuck.

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Kidnapping is a serious crime, you know."

"I went on my own." I mumbled quietly.

"I don't give a fuck." He scoffed, "The point is, they had no right to take you anywhere, much fucking less keep you all night. A week or two in jail would teach them to keep their fucking distance. Worse if I decide to find a bruise or two, and point the finger their direction. One of them would take the blame for that."

"They didn't do anything." I whimpered, leaning forward, "It was my idea."

"Then you best be glad we're doing this now." He snapped, "Before I lose my fucking patience with them, and you ruin their lives. You don't want to get them into trouble now, do you?"

"No, sir." I replied instantly.

"That's what I thought." He fell quiet for a moment, "What's the nosy bitch's name? The one that called that day? She's the one I'm focused on, but I know that wasn't her number."

"She's not a bitch." I muttered, "She's my friend."

"I don't give a shit if she was queen of the fucking world," He was getting pissed, "What's her goddamn name?"

"I won't tell you." I mumbled, hardly daring to breathe. He and I both knew he could easily get it out of me if he really wanted to. I watched his hands, slowly leaning back out of his reach. His hands, clenching tight to the wheel, were one of the things I feared most about him.

"Fuck it." He said again, "I'll figure that out on my own, but I can tell you that you'll never fucking see any of them again. Do you hear me?"

He obviously didn't know I had the card securely in my pocket. If I lived long enough, I'd just give them a call when we got back. No big deal.

"Yes, sir." Keep him happy. At least as happy as I could.

I still hadn't the slightest clue where we were going, but I knew by now not to ask any more questions. So I just went with it. Settling back in my seat carefully. That was all I could do. Despite how I would have preferred to stay, anywhere was better than in that box. Especially considering Jack had the heater going.

Jack didn't seem to mind letting me sleep. For a little while, anyway.

The radio was on low, playing some old rock song. Listening to him singing along with it under his breath, and the quiet roar of the partially open window was the white noise I needed to sleep. This was normal. I knew this.

Opening my eyes for a final time, I looked up out the window. The interstate was bare this time of night, aside from truckers or another random car. I tried to wait. I tried to see any sort of mileage sign, but I couldn't stay awake for very long.

Smelling the cigarette smoke that managed to waft back at me, I actually did manage to sleep. As much as I hated him, he was the only family I had. As much as I hated him, I couldn't help feeling something like comfort when I was with him.

He was familiar, and I felt like I knew his behaviors well enough to know when I needed to be cautious. He seemed satisfied for the moment. Content, almost, now that we were going wherever we were going.

I couldn't remember the dream I'd been having when I felt him tapping, nudging my leg with his hand.

"Hey. Wake up." He muttered, and I sleepily opened my eyes as I whimpered awake, "Get up here. Sit with me for a minute."

I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes while doing as he told me to do. That almost didn't work, as I nearly tripped myself on the passenger seat. My foot getting caught on the seat back. I had to try again.

We were stopped somewhere, which only then registered to me. The radio was still on, but the truck was off, and the parking lot we sat in was a gas station. He must have already had to stop for gas. He probably didn't fill up the truck before we left.

He'd parked away from the light. It was dark on this side of the building, and it was eerie here at night. The area empty of anyone but us.

I yawned, climbing over the center console. His hand actually supporting my lower back on my quest between the seats. He flipped up the center console, creating a seat in the middle for me to sit down in right beside him.

I continued rubbing my eyes, whimpering again in my sleepiness. I was definitely feeling the last several hours. I knew it'd take some time to feel warm again.

"Here." He pulled a bag up from the floorboard, reaching into it, pulling something out. He gave me a small smug smile, and I realized what he was offering me. It was a bar of chocolate. I gasped a little, looking up as I didn't hesitate in taking it.

The last time I'd had anything like this was when I'd stolen it from someone at school.

"Thank you." I immediately said, and he grunted in response. Nodding.

I carefully unwrapped it as he sighed, setting the bag back down. Continuing on with his cigarette. Looking to the clock on the radio, it said we'd already been gone for two and a half hours. Two and a half hours from home, I wondered where we were.

"Later," He said, "We'll stop and get something to eat." I nodded, knowing he wouldn't tell me twice. Maybe he really was trying. Of course he was. Had he not been, I'd have been dead already.

I nibbled eagerly on the chocolate, not wanting him to think I was ungrateful in any way. This was such a rare thing.

"When we get to where we're going," He spoke again, "I want you on your best behavior." He paused, looking to me, "You know what that means, right?"

"Don't speak, don't move around, and don't look at anyone too long." I answered sleepily, and he chuckled.

"Good." He nodded, "That's right." I felt a very slight pang of relief. I'd done something right, "You'll be meeting someone important, so don't go running your mouth. Got it?" He was taking me to meet someone.

"I won't." I replied, "I promise."

As long as he held the offer of food up over me, I would have done my best to do a backflip if it meant making him happy. It happened so rarely, I knew never to let the opportunity pass. He reached over, and I glanced up at him as he started lazily running his fingers through my hair. Almost like he was petting me. I waited for the violent pull, but it never came.

This wasn't so bad. He wasn't yelling at me. He wasn't hitting me. I eased ever so slightly, adjusting how I sat. Closing and resting my eyes tiredly.

"There will be kids there." He continued, looking to me again, "About your age." I waited for his point, "Unless they talk to you first, don't say anything to them, either. Got it?" His fingers continued running through my hair. It felt a lot nicer than when he was trying to pull it all out.

"I won't." I repeated, "Nothing."

"But don't be rude." He added calmly, "Or I'll tan your hide." I shook my head, "I'm testing you, kid. Don't disappoint me, especially so soon after the last one. You know I hate being disappointed." I shook my head again, more vigorously this time. I did know he hated being disappointed.

He watched me for a few moments, until he sighed. Flicking the cigarette butt out the window, he reached over and picked me up. I stiffened in response.

"H-Hey, wait.." I mumbled, snapping my eyes open and looking around wildly, wondering what he was doing until he settled me on his lap. Thoughts of sleep flew out the window as he adjusted my weight, me facing away from him.

I didn't want to ask questions, so I just concentrated on the chocolate I nervously nibbled on. This was new. I attempted to move, to crawl back over to where I was sitting, but he righted me easily. Keeping me square in the center of his lap.

"Relax." He told me firmly, "You're fine." If he thought that tone of voice was soothing, he was mistaken. With both his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me back down, and held me there. I didn't try moving again, despite how much I wanted to.

Wide eyed, I trembled a little at first, waiting for what he was going to do.

As it turned out, he just wanted me to sit there. After he was sure I wasn't going to bolt, he removed his hands, giving my shoulders a light squeeze before doing so. Despite how light the squeeze was, it still made me wince. What was he doing?

For several minutes, I sat there stiffly, waiting for whatever this was to be over. Was I a lap warmer now? I didn't like the thought of what I was seated over. That was just about the only reason I didn't like this. He wasn't moving, or hurting me. It just made me very uncomfortable.

"This isn't easy for me, you know." He grumbled, and I turned a little, looking back at him over my shoulder, "I know you don't believe me, but I didn't want to have to do this. Why couldn't you have just done as you were told? Was it really that damn hard?"

I didn't know what he wanted me to say. I chose to face forward again instead.

"Was it that damn hard?" He asked again, softer now, but I wasn't sure if he was still talking to me. He got quiet, and I stayed quiet. Just sitting still. The truth was, his confession struck me as a deeply personal thing, and anything I'd have to add to it would take from it. It also scared me. He was obviously dreading something, but what?

It turned out, cooperation was all he was looking for, and just going with it was the right thing to do, because after only a few minutes of sitting there, he sighed deeply. Startling me out of my thoughts, as the silence ended with the sound.

"Alright." He mumbled, reaching up and placing his hand on my neck, lightly shoving me sideways. I tumbled off his lap, sprawling ungracefully back onto the seat beside him.

Nothing had happened. It was like he just got bored of me sitting there.

I glanced up at him as I righted myself, confused. He gave me a calm look, not angry at my puzzled state. Reaching out, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes and shook out two.

"Get used to that." Was all he said. His bitter tone wasn't angry. Just unhappy. Hey, if that's all he did now, was have me sit on his lap, I would be happy. If cooperating with that meant less pain for me, I'd do it.

He gave me no explanation, and I didn't ask for one. I just took the lit cigarette he offered, sitting beside him in silence, just curled into a small, insecure ball against the passenger door. We didn't speak while I smoked. He glanced over at me now and then, watching me watch him. I didn't like new things.

"Would you relax, for fuck's sake?" He finally snapped, "You'd think I'd just threatened to kill you by the look on your face." I looked down. I wasn't entirely sure he hadn't. I didn't know what that was about.

"I don't like that." I mumbled after a few seconds.

"Well, tough shit." He replied immediately, his tone telling me that he was surprised I'd actually voiced my opinion, "You'll probably be doing a whole lot of things you don't like over your lifetime with what I'm planning for you." He turned his gaze out the window, "Get fucking used to it."

I didn't bother to reply. I was getting tired again. So I tossed what was left of my cigarette out the window.

"Go back there." He told me, and I tensely got moving, "Go back to sleep."

I made sure to take my chocolate with me, settling back into my spot. I watched him start up the truck again. What that was all about was beyond me, but whatever it was hadn't hurt me, so I didn't care as much. I was confused, but I wasn't about to piss him off by asking about it.

Was that going to happen all the time now? He'd never really done that before, and when he had, it'd been so different. He hadn't made me sit on his lap since I was four. I didn't like it back then, either, because even back then I knew there was always something wrong with doing that.

This time was different, though. That something wrong wasn't there this time, weirdly enough. Oh well, I figured. That's his business.

He started the truck, and we got going again. I took a breath, remembering the card in my back pocket. Would he see me back here? Not if I was careful. I subtly slid my hand into my pocket, and with a breath-taking stab of fear, I realized it wasn't there.

I checked the other pocket, in case I mixed them up, but it wasn't there either. If he found that, I wouldn't make it back. I scrambled around as much as I could, searching all over for the small square. Leaning forward and shifting around the old receipts and things on the floor of the backseat.

"What the fuck are you doing back there?" Jack barked from the front, "Didn't I tell you to go the fuck to sleep?"

"Trying to get comfortable." I lied.

"Well, get comfortable." He grumbled.

The sudden relief I felt when I found it hiding partially under the passenger seat in front of me was more than I'd felt in a long time. The card must have slipped out when I hopped over. I picked it up quickly, hiding it against my leg right as Jack turned to glance at me.

He looked forward again almost immediately, so I could hide the card better. It was so relieving to look at it again, and see that it really was in my hand again. I smoothed the crease out, holding it protectively in my lap.

After about a minute of looking at it, I reached over and unzipped my bag as quietly as I could. I couldn't risk losing it again. This would be my lifeline if I ever needed one.

Inside the bag, against the left side was a small net pouch to stuff things into. I slid the card, words hidden, into the pouch, and made sure my clothes were piled up over it. At a glance, if he were to get one, he'd probably think it was a label or something. Zipping it closed just as quietly as I'd opened it.

In a way, this was a little exciting. Like my own little secret that he had no idea about. He knew about them, sure, but he didn't know that I had my own way of contacting them if I needed to. That was something only I was in on. I didn't get that very often with Jack. He was aware of everything.

Every bruise on me, every scar. The small birthmark I had on the left side of my chest and right down to the freckle I had on the bottom of my left second toe. He knew me as well as he knew himself. Head to toe, he knew me, so having something he didn't know about was a new experience for me. Almost completely making up for my day in the box. Almost.

As exciting as it was, I'd do as he told me. I closed my eyes once more.

I slept for a little while longer after that, and I opened my eyes to bright sunlight out. It was just barely morning, and the sun on my face felt strange to me. I'd opened my eyes just as he was taking an exit off the interstate. Somewhere in a place called Eugene. I recognized that as being somewhere in Oregon. No wonder it was sunny.

Having slept in the cramped backseat all night, sitting upright on a stiff bench, my muscles protested. Igniting the pain in the bruises I had, and now that I was aware of it, they hurt triple fold.

"Ow." I whimpered, and he glanced back at me. Noting the fact that I was now awake.

"Stop bitching." Was all he told me as he came to a stop sign. I rested my tired eyes a bit, waiting for more instructions.

He decided to stop at a gas station diner to eat, but I didn't mind where it was. My guess was he didn't want me dying while we were meeting whoever I was going to meet. He was usually more careful than that. Especially since he didn't know I'd eaten much more recently than he thought.

He filled up the truck, and pulled me out by my hand. Practically tugging me across the parking lot to the small diner. I had trouble keeping up. I looked up at him, noticing the way he didn't even look at me. His stern blue eyes focused on where we were going instead.

I yawned, and shivered. For it being sunny, it was a little chilly here, and I was cold. I didn't like him holding my hand, so I tried to pull my hand from his. He still didn't look at me, only gripping my hand tighter the second I moved my hand in his. I hated when he did this. Pretending he was anything but someone who I lived with, and someone who tormented me constantly. Him holding my hand like he was my dad was such a big lie, it made me want to throw up.

This trip wasn't turning out half bad, though, despite the mystery the night before. It was sunny here, wherever we'd ended up, and it showed through the window. It was hard to see, as my eyes weren't adjusted yet, but I ate. Whatever was in front of me, I ate it.

"Here." He said, sliding his glass toward me, "You're going to want to stay awake."

"What is it?" I asked, peering into the red colored clear plastic cup at the brown, bubbly liquid inside.

"Just drink it." He muttered through clenched teeth. Choosing not to piss him off this early in the trip, I hesitantly took a sip through the straw. This was something I'd never had before, and considering my glass only held water, I was expecting it to taste like water. How wrong I was.

This was sweet. Very sugary, and the bubbles almost burned my mouth with how sharp it was. I'd tasted beer before, but somehow, this was sharper. Sharper, but not near as bitter. So this was what soda was like. I wrinkled my nose a bit, looking up at him.

"Go ahead." He told me, firmer now. So I did. The bubbles took some getting used to, but once I had, I found I didn't mind it so much. It tasted okay.

"Oh, you're going to have one heck of a drive home, sir." The waitress had come by again, laughing as she noticed me drinking from his glass.

I knew how it went.

Looking up, she'd noticed me. That was bad, so I had to do everything I could to become less of a fascination. I smiled sheepishly up at her, slowly sliding the glass back over to Jack. She laughed again, shaking her head.

She looked to him again, and I looked away. I really deserved some kind of medal or award. It was just so easy to squash suspicion or divert attention.

"She's precious." The waitress commented, smiling sweetly at Jack. He looked to me. She just wouldn't stop noticing me. I grit my teeth. Looks like it's going to be the entire act this time.

"Isn't she?" He chuckled. He put his arm around me, hugging me into his side like he often did. False show of affection. Lesson number one. I reached up, holding onto his arm. Mostly to try to keep him from smashing me, but to the waitress watching, it looked for all the world like I cared about him too.

"It's so nice to see a father spending time with his daughter." She smiled, "I have a little girl at home, and let me tell you. I'd love for her to have such a dedicated father." Single mother. I looked up at her, then to Jack. I suddenly wondered if this was about the same way he met my mom. He laughed, refusing to meet my eyes.

Jack really was a charming guy. He could charm his way out of or into anything, just by smiling at the right person in the right way. I tuned out their conversation as he gently released me. I took his glass again as I scooted over a little, sipping from it steadily now as I looked out the window.

My thoughts held fast to thoughts of my mom now. I wondered strongly if she'd have changed her mind if someone had warned her.

Jack held her attention now, and I couldn't help listening to her giggles. I didn't like the sound. It meant she was falling for it. The same act he gave all the women. Leading them easily to believe he was such a great guy. I hated the way I helped him. If she only knew.

I stared out the window. Watching the busy parking lot outside. My eyes had adjusted a little more, and I could really take in the scenery. It was just a little less green here than home, but the way the sun shined brightly on the trees beyond the parking lot was actually really pretty.

I didn't remember ever being so far from home before, and it left me feeling oddly lonely.

As I sensed the conversation beside me winding down, I paid more attention to them. Jack stood up after placing a rather large amount of cash on the table, giving her a smile as I struggled out of my seat to follow him.

"Have a good day." The waitress called after him as he turned, heading for the door. I hesitated just a second, looking up at her. She met my eyes and gave me a smile.

"Take care of her." Was all I said to her. Her smile faded slightly, watching me as I turned, and jogged to catch up to him.

We hadn't stayed long. Back on the interstate before an hour had even passed. This time, I paid attention to the direction we were headed. We were going south. Obviously, since we were in Oregon, but it was still news to me. Even more south?

I was allowed to stay up front this time as we continued on. He obviously knew where he was going, as he didn't even need a map. Taking exits and on-ramps, merging on the interstate and picking lanes carefully like he'd made this trip a thousand times before. He knew right where he needed to be.

"We'll stop tonight for the night." He informed me and I tore my eyes away from all the other traffic around us, looking over at him. That was all he said, but I could tell he was tired. I still didn't understand what his big rush was, but I wasn't going to point that out. I just didn't want to die because he was too tired to pay attention.

I figured out quickly why he had me drink that soda. It was difficult to sit still, much less to sleep. I was wide awake. More than I had been in awhile.

Sometime around six-thirty in the evening, he took an exit, and I was never more relieved. I understood the rush now, as sitting in a seat for so long was quickly taking its toll on me. Worse than sleeping in the back. My butt and my hips were in so much pain, and as much as I knew moving around would help that, there wasn't much I could do.

Outside the motel, I took a little too long grabbing the bags from the back, so Jack took hold of both my back pockets and yanked me backwards. Getting me out of the way so he could grab them instead.

We found our room, and with my bag in my hand, I was herded in first. He shut the door behind him, and immediately pulled on the chain lock. Looking around the room, I hated the sight of just one bed. The tiny room didn't even have a TV in it.

"Get clean, and get to sleep." He told me, "Early start tomorrow."

Pulling his shirt off, followed by kicking his shoes off, I waited as he waited for me to confirm. Intimidated as he pulled his belt loose.

"Where do I sleep?" I asked hesitantly, and he paused, seeming confused.

"Where do you think?" He snapped.

"On.. The same bed? As you?"

"Do you see any other fucking beds?" He asked, and I shook my head, "Then what would that tell you?"

"To sleep on the floor?"

"Don't be stupid." He muttered, "If I wanted you to sleep on the floor, I'd tell you to sleep on the goddamn floor. Are you done with the stupid questions?"

"Every question I ask is stupid." It was my turn to be confused.

"Exactly." He muttered, tossing his belt to the side, "So how about you shut the fuck up for five minutes?"

I nodded, letting him know I understood him now. I half hoped, that with as tired as he was, that he wouldn't be interested in me that night.

"Jack?" I asked quietly, watching as he laid down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Still wearing his jeans, thank God. Thoroughly ignoring me, he didn't reply, and I stood there until I heard his quiet snores just a few minutes later. I had questions.

I was feeling brave, I guess, so as I took my shower, I wanted to try turning just a little bit of hot water on. Just to see what it felt like. I really wasn't looking forward to the cold of the water, but I was worried he'd know.

I didn't, though. Too scared, and the thought of Jack finding out made me refrain from doing so. So I suffered through the cold, because I just knew he'd know. Somehow.

I quickly crawled under the thin blanket beside him, trembling from the cold. I was thanking myself for deciding against the hot water, as my crawling into bed must have woken him up. He turned half way to face me, pressing the back of his fingers to my ice cold cheek, and chuckled sleepily.

"Good." He told me, rolling over again until his back was to me. I curled tighter in the blanket, my mind already busy.

How did I know that was going to happen? It had happened before, too. With the card. Had I not moved it into the bag, he'd have found it when he grabbed my back pockets.

Knowing not to do something, to avoid getting onto Jack's bad side. I guess I'd always had that skill, but could that be considered part of the gift Alice was talking about?

I always figured that was brought on by being trained the way I was from the time I was little. Always staying out from underfoot, trying to avoid problems before they happened. They always happened anyway, but they'd be worse if I didn't try to avoid them. There was no doubt that dreaming about Alice was odd, especially the night before I met her, but could that really have anything to do with me having some sort of gift? An ability?

The only gift I had was knowing when I was about to get beaten. Was that how I always knew to get moving before he did? With that question, it opened up the idea. Maybe Alice wasn't so crazy after all. Could it be possible, just a little bit, that I found her for a reason? Was there some sort of way for two people with the same gift or ability to find each other? She said she saw me coming.

It was just so hard for me to believe she knew I was alive, much less my name. Very much less actually liking me. Someone like her knowing me seemed wrong to me somehow, like I never deserved such a friend. What I'd ever done to earn her friendship, I never knew. All I knew, was that I was already looking forward to going home, so I could talk to her even more.

I didn't hold what punishment I got against her. It wasn't her fault. She was just trying to help me.

Confident Jack would leave me alone, considering his breathing told me he was out cold, I let my eyes close.

Whenever I knew Jack was nearby, asleep or not, I never slept very deeply. Some part of my mind always half awake, waiting for something. Though tonight, I did. I wasn't waiting for anything. Probably exhausted from the trip so far, so I just fell asleep. I wished I knew where he was taking me, but so far, it hadn't been that bad at all. Aside from how painful it had been sitting still for so long.

When I opened my eyes next, it was to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Dim morning light coming through the thick curtains over the window. He'd left me alone, surprisingly. He never bothered me. Not even him moving to get up woke me.

I stayed in bed, snoozing lightly as I heard him get out of the shower. A short while later, I clearly smelled the scent of his cologne. I always cringed when I smelled that. I hated the smell of it.

"Come on." He called, and I jumped. I hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom, "Get up. Get dressed."

I whimpered into my pillow with a yawn, looking over at him as he stood there, a balled up t-shirt in his left hand. He already had his clean pair of jeans on, and the belt he discarded the night before, now in place was the first thing I saw, since he hadn't put his shirt on yet. I always tensed when I saw that. If belts could speak.

I felt like I knew that belt as well as Jack knew me. Every crease, every wrinkle in the leather. I'd been acquainted with that thing many, many times. The sound it made was loud, even when it was sitting still. Purely from the memory of seeing first hand what it could do.

I waited for him to cuss at me for a brief few seconds, until he gave me an incredulous look, and I decided not to push it, and started getting up.

"Put your new clothes on." He instructed, "We'll get there before tonight."

I did as he said, and a hairbrush landed beside me on the bed. I assumed Jack had thrown it at me. With a sinking heart, I realized he'd had to have gone into my bag to get that. Looking up at him, he didn't seem mad, so I wouldn't freak out yet. I just had to bide time until I could look.

I took the hint, brushing out my hair as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Cover that," He pointed at my face, "And meet me out at the truck." With that, he lifted his bag, and left the room.

He was trusting me in here alone? Don't disappoint him, I told myself. This had to be another test. Like the diner was. Maybe he actually didn't want to kill me, and was giving me another chance?

I finished brushing out my long hair, kneeling beside my bag to put the brush away, when my eyes landed on the card tucked away. I sighed in relief, relieved at the fact that it was still there. Hidden but in plain sight.

Slowly, I pulled it out. I smiled a little, reminded of my friends yet again. I sighed, wondering again if there would be a time when I'd ever need to use the number on the card. Just knowing it was there, however, made me feel better. Knowing the offer still stood.

Nervously biting my lip, I tapped the card against my fingers, looking over my shoulder at the window in the room. Jack was waiting on me.

I put the card away again, safer this time. I stuffed three pairs of socks in the net pocket with it, effectively burying it, and zipped my bag back up before climbing back to my feet. I set off to cover my face, hoping I wouldn't need to do this much longer.

Thankfully, I didn't have any new bruising on my face to worry about.

Slapping me open-handed pretty much guaranteed me a little bit of swelling, but no bruising. He'd have to hit me a lot harder than he did for that to happen. Open-handed slaps spread the force of the impact to a much wider area, lessening the breaking of blood vessels under the skin. Making it hurt, but not damage or really display.

Punches and kicks, however, were a different story. Those were dangerous. Those could break bones on someone as small as I was with as strong as he was. I'd gotten to be an expert on bruises through the years.

I did just as he said to. Coming back out, he was already seated in the truck. The radio on, and the slightest bit of relief entered his usually glaring blue eyes as I came back out.

Dropping my bag into the now dry bed of the truck beside Jack's, and climbing in. He handed me another bar of chocolate as I sat down, settling into the front passenger seat. I couldn't help feeling like a dog being trained, but if it meant I stayed on his good side, I didn't mind it so much.

Since we skipped breakfast, he stopped for an early lunch at an actual restaurant this time. Somewhere just outside the California border, I found out. I sat beside him, between him, and the window. Now and then glancing up at him.

Were we going to California? Was that where he was taking me? Unless he was hauling ass to Mexico, where he wouldn't have to worry about being arrested, and dragging me along with him. I'd heard of people doing that when they were in trouble with the law.

I'd have been just as happy to be left on the side of the road somewhere while he ran off.

I was still getting used to eating again, so I couldn't eat very much. I was still tired. Nervously looking around me. I still didn't know where we'd end up, but I knew. I had every right to be nervous.

Something about this trip wasn't right. I could feel it, and the way Jack treated me now told me so. He was being too nice, which told me he had something planned. I'd known he had something planned from the start, but it made me nervous now.

I just wanted to go home.

When we got going again, I was seated up front once more. Watching him. He had yet to sit me on his lap again, so I couldn't help wondering why he would tell me to get used to that, if he didn't do it again. I wasn't looking forward to finding that out. If I could get away with not having to, I would.

We entered California, signified by the 'Welcome to' sign.

I didn't like how nervous I was today. On edge, and it was the first time I really realized how much a cigarette eased those nerves. Instead of just smoking to settle my empty stomach, I used smoking as a way to calm down.

"What the fuck?" Jack grumbled, glancing over at me, "You trying to kill yourself? Christ. Slow down." I was on my third cigarette in an hour. Sixth in two hours. He yanked the pack from out of my reach, and stole the cigarette I just lit. Pausing one last time to slap me on the back of my head, "Dumb ass."

Just like he said, we pulled to a stop outside a house later that afternoon. The house sat at the end of a normal looking street, so I was pretty confused. This was obviously the place he was meaning to go, but it wasn't anything like I thought it'd be. For someone running from trouble, I expected a tiny hut or box somewhere inconspicuous.

The house itself was very nice. Pretty big, but not too big. Two stories high, with quite a bit of impressive architecture. White stone, with dark brown accents and very large windows. It even had a little fence around the front lawn, and a three car garage.

I was intimidated by this house, not moving to get out of the truck. He took my shoulder, turning me slowly to look at him.

"Remember what we talked about." He told me firmly, "This is it. Don't disappoint me, you little bitch. Come on."

God, what did he have planned for me? Maybe Jack just didn't want to be the one to do the killing.

He climbed out of the truck, and I nearly cried as I followed him. Squinting in the late afternoon sunlight as we both stepped around the truck and headed for the front door. I inspected the house quickly in the time I had to look at it.

The door opened before we even got there, a rather large man greeting Jack loudly. I jumped, actually stepping closer to Jack in fear.

"Nice to see you!" The new man called, laughing as he stepped forward. Greeting Jack with an enthusiastic hug, "And who's this?"

He pulled back, looking down at me. I made a whimpering gasping noise, stepping behind Jack. He was big, and his voice clearly matched. He wasn't heavy, just big. Tall, and pretty well built.

I eyed him as I eyed everyone new I met. With distrust. He sure didn't seem the type to kill people for others, though, but then again, maybe that's exactly what he wanted me to think. I narrowed my eyes.

The man only laughed, "Sure is a shy little thing, isn't she?"

"Remember Gina?" Jack told him, "Well, this is her kid. Leandra."

"You never mentioned she had a kid." The man seemed puzzled, looking at him. He seemed nice enough, but I really wasn't sure, so I looked up at Jack as well. Waiting for some sort of hint as to what to do.

"I didn't think it was that important." Jack laughed.

"A secret kid?" He got in response, "It's kind of a big deal. You didn't kidnap her, did you?" He laughed, finding that funny. I wasn't so amused, and neither was Jack, though he forced a laugh as well.

The man's eyes fell back down onto me as he leaned forward a bit. Probably to be more on my level, but it didn't help much, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Leandra. My name's Mike." He held his hand out, and Jack gave me a nod, telling me to not be rude.

I hesitantly placed my hand in his, not liking the contact. Thankfully, he was gentle. Giving me a kind smile and chuckling as his hand closed around mine in greeting. He didn't shake it, or pull me anywhere, just held my hand like that for just a moment.

"She's got to be the cutest thing." Mike smiled, releasing me. Was this the important person I was meeting? He didn't seem so bad. I was usually pretty good at being able to tell.

"Is my dad inside?" Jack asked, and again I was taken off guard. I looked up at him. Shocked. He had a father?

"He and Heather went to the store." Mike answered, "Had to pick some extra things for dinner. You know how much the boys eat." Who was Heather? And who was this Mike guy? What the hell was going on?

I followed Jack closely as he and Mike stepped inside. Looking around. I had to look up to see it all, the inside very impressive. The stairs to our right were carpeted, but there weren't very many of them.

The floor was a dark colored hardwood, with a very wide open floor plan. Ahead of us to the left was the living room, with very fancy looking furniture, and a tan colored rug situated under the dark wood colored glass coffee table.

The ceiling in this area was high, but it looked like the second floor was only situated on the right side of the house, given the lower ceiling off toward the kitchen. It was a little weird for me to see the ceiling like that.

"Uncle Jack!" I flinched at a shout further into the house, and stepped away from him. Landing beside Mike as I heard and saw two boys running straight at him from the living room. Jack laughed, accepting their hugs.

I'd never seen him act this way. Never.

"Damn," Jack chuckled, "You two gotta quit growing." The smaller of the two seemed my age. Taller than me, but not as much as the other one. Dark brown hair on the both of them, and there was no question they were related to him. Given their color of blue eyes. Seeing him so happy to see them had me tilt my head a bit. More confused than I'd been the entire trip.

"Leandra, these are my nephews." Jack's tone changed. Subtly, but I heard it clear as day, "Zack, and this is Josh." He touched their heads as he said their names. Zack was the smaller one, and Josh was the older one, "Guys, this is Leandra. My wife's daughter."

"Hey." Josh greeted, smiling and waving. I bit my lip, waving a little in return. Thankful I didn't have to touch them.

"She bunking with the boys?" Mike asked, and immediately Jack shook his head.

"Nah, she prefers to stay with me." Jack replied, "Isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir." I murmured quietly without missing a beat. He approved, given the look in his eyes. That wasn't entirely a lie. I wouldn't know what to do without him. Not here. He was giving me the option to stay with him, which I would have preferred in new places like this.

"Lucky there's a couch in your room." Mike chuckled, "Well, why don't you help me start dinner, Jack? Let the kids get to know each other." I was given a warning with Jack's eyes. Again, subtly, but I saw it.

"Sure." Jack finally agreed, sighing, "Leandra, go get the bags from the truck. Take them upstairs. Third door on the right is our room." I nodded, immediately turning.

"Be nice to her, you guys." Mike called after us, "Don't roughhouse."

Unfortunately, the boys followed me. Probably as curious about me as I was about them. I climbed onto the side of the bed of the truck, pulling Jack's bag to me first before grabbing mine, and pulling them out. I struggled with the weight of both, but Josh took Jack's from me easily. I looked at him.

"Thank you." I mumbled.

"No problem." He smiled, leading the way back inside. That was it for conversation until the bags were safely in the room. I sighed, worn out. This room was actually pretty big. One king sized bed was centered on the far wall. A white, plush couch opposite it.

Now what was I supposed to do? He never told me what to do after doing this. I felt very uncomfortable standing here with the two boys. I'd never been one to get along with kids my age.

"Well, how old are you?" Josh asked, obviously curious.

"Nine." I answered immediately, my voice quiet.

"That's how old Zack is too." Josh replied, leading the way from the room, "I'm eleven."

"Cool." What else was I supposed to say to that? Congratulations for getting born two years before I was?

We made our way downstairs silently now.

"Why can't we roughhouse with you?" Josh asked, peering over at me. I was learning quickly that Josh seemed to be the one to ask all the questions. Zack seemed as quiet as I was, but just as curious as he watched me like I watched them.

"I don't know." I replied, "Ask your dad."

"Wanna come watch TV with us?" Zack offered quietly, and I shrugged. That seemed better than trying to make conversation with too-personal questions. I only tolerated that from Alice. Not these two.

"Sure." I replied.

I chose to sit at the far end of the couch. Josh on the other end, Zack in the chair. I wasn't as tense as I was before, thankfully. I just didn't know what to make of these two. They hadn't been mean yet, and that was strange to me. I sat there, nervously nibbling on my thumbnail as I glanced over at the two of them now and then, and I knew they did the same thing to me.

This definitely didn't seem like the type of scenario I'd imagined myself to land in. Not after doing what I'd done. Not with how mad Jack was at me, so I felt a little dazed. Constantly stuck in a haze of confusion.

I could see Jack in the kitchen from where I sat, so that helped a little, but all that did was confuse me even more. I didn't know what to expect here. I didn't know what to make of this situation.

We only managed to sit there for about ten minutes before the front door opened again. I stared toward the kitchen, watching as Jack was greeted enthusiastically by an older version of himself.

That must be his dad.

Same color dark brown hair, maybe a little lighter from age, but this man didn't even look that old. Definitely not old enough to have a son Jack's age. At least he didn't show it. I might have mistaken him for his slightly older brother, had Jack not mentioned his dad earlier. His hair was a little longer than Jack's was, but just as neatly kept.

He obviously took good care of himself. He stood just a little shorter than Jack was, but seemingly just as strong. I wouldn't be able to tell that, though, until I got a better look at him. I couldn't tell just yet, looking on from across the house.

There were differences, obviously, between Jack and this man but even I could see the resemblance from where I sat. I didn't realize how interested in him I'd become, until Josh laughed.

"That's grandpa." He told me, confirming it, and I glanced to him.

I had never really given it much thought. None at all, really. I knew he had to have a family, but I really hadn't expected this. This was something I never had to think about before, considering the way Jack always liked to keep me hidden away.

The woman that came in with the older man came our way with a sigh. Maybe this was the Heather Mike had mentioned earlier?

"Hi, mom." Josh greeted quietly as she patted a resting hand gently on his head, looking to the TV briefly. I looked at her now. The first, and only thing I had a chance to really notice was her long hair, brought back out of her face in a messy ponytail that left her longer bangs loose. She seemed tired, the evidence in the slightly darker skin under her eyes.

Her eyes landed on me, and I looked away, but even as I did so, I saw something in her eyes that made me nervous and sad at the same time. I had no clue why.

"Oh." She spoke, "Who's this?"

"Jack says that's his wife's daughter." Zack answered, "Her name's Leandra." I glanced up at her, curious. Her blue eyes met mine, and she seemed to understand. At first glance, she seemed unhappy. Given the frown on her face, and the way she studied me for a moment, before she turned.

"Jack." She called, her tone also suggesting she wasn't happy. I watched after her, watching her head for the kitchen. She pulled Jack off to the side by his arm, arguing heatedly with him. I watched her insecure posture, her arms crossing over her stomach the way I always crossed mine. I hoped I hadn't done anything wrong. I really hoped I hadn't.

The older man caught my gaze, and smiled. Coming over. Nervousness at his approach clawed its way out in a quiet whimper.

"You must be Leandra." When he spoke, it was forced polite. Almost condescending in the way it sounded, "I'm Ken." Thankfully, he gave me a name to use. I was not calling this guy 'grandpa'. Far as I knew, or cared, I didn't have one.

He offered his hand, and since Mike hadn't bothered me, I took it. I was pulled to my feet, however, and lifted with a squeak. He held me in one arm, hugging me with the other.

"We're family, kid." He told me with a friendly chuckle, "No need for silly hand-shakes."

Resisting the urge to shout in pain, I bit my lip, waiting for him to get done with me. I didn't like him, but I was stuck. I had to grunt, squeezing my eyes shut. He was hugging me too tight, but I grit my teeth and dealt with it.

"Dad," Heather sighed, "Let her breathe." She called him her dad, and given the way Jack's nephews called her their mom, that meant one thing. She must be Jack's sister. She looked younger than him. From what I could see through my pain, anyway.

I needed to get it together. I was so mixed up, I didn't know which way was which.

Ken chuckled, releasing me with his hugging arm. I sat up straighter in his arm, looking at him. He really was an older version of Jack. There was no question whether or not Ken was his father.

I didn't like being held, though. Not by him. Not by anyone.

I glanced behind him, finding Jack coming over. A quiet warning in his eyes to keep my mouth shut. I did, knowing full well this was a test as well. This must have been the important person I had to meet.

"She's beautiful, Jack." Ken seemed really pleased to meet me, which was a good sign. It meant I wasn't in trouble yet, "And you've been hiding her all this time?"

If this was the important person, I knew I'd better be on my best behavior with him. I held Ken's gaze for as long as I could, eventually looking down. I might not have liked him, but that hardly mattered any.

I soon discovered why Jack had done what he'd done. Why he told me to get used to sitting on someone's lap.

Sitting down, Ken kept hold of me, sitting me on his lap. Just the way Jack had done. This stranger doing this made me even more uncomfortable, but he seemed to either not notice, or not care. Whenever I'd try to move subtly, or get loose, his arms around me would tighten, holding me there and bouncing me a little.

I looked to Jack, hoping for just a little bit of a break, but he went right on smoking his cigarette by the window like he didn't even care. Not even giving me a glance. Heather, however, kept her eyes on me like she was afraid I'd steal something. Nobody else seemed to think anything of it, so I tried to relax, but it was difficult. It was hard to, considering how tight he held me there.

Every now and then, he'd shift under me, but that was it for the movement. I still didn't appreciate this.

While I sat there, I did some thinking. Catching up in my own head.

Ken was Heather and Jack's father, and Heather was his sister. Mike was Heather's husband. Josh and Zack were Heather and Mike's sons. It was unsteady, but I was beginning to catch on. Mike and I were the only ones here not blood related to these people, but Mike was more related to them than I was, given Josh and Zack's relation to them.

"What are you feeding her, Jack?" Ken finally brought attention to me, also bringing my attention back to where I sat, "She hardly weighs anything."

"She doesn't eat much, dad." He replied, "Her appetite has been shit since her mom left."

"Who would leave a gem like this?" Ken asked, peering around to try to see my face. I looked away, biting my lip, "Lucky she has you, Jack."

Just let me go already! I hated this. I hated lap sitting in general. I always had, but this was really testing me. I looked to Jack again, finally meeting his eyes. I tried for a subtle, incredulous look, but it probably seemed desperate.

"Very lucky." I murmured quietly, striving for points. Jack gave no indication on whether or not I'd earned any. Choosing only to look away once more. I bit my lip again, sighing.

I was deeply uncomfortable, and Jack was no help. Though I did try for freedom a few times, I was afraid to move too much. Afraid, and anxiously aware of exactly where I was at that point, I never knew I could ever be as aware of myself as I was right then. Keeping even my breathing to a minimum.

I wanted him to let me go, but he kept me there for what felt like hours. When he finally did let me go, it was because I'd had enough and told him I needed the bathroom.

"I'll show you where it's at." Jack offered, standing, "Come on." I followed him easily, glancing back at Ken's eyes following me. I was shaking, nearly in tears over that, and I needed a break.

Once we were out of hearing range, Jack sighed. Pulling me to a stop, he turned me to face him. I looked up at him, waiting for whatever he had to tell me. I hoped it went in my favor. I knew he had to see how shaken up I was.

"You're doing great." He told me, glancing back in the direction of the living room, "Just keep it up. I know he's grabby, but he won't bother you too much." I sniffled, nodding, "He just wants to hold you, so you let him. Just thank me for saving your ass by making you sleep in the room with me."

"Thank you." I muttered easily, and he nodded. I didn't know what he meant by that, but I wasn't going to ask. I actually was grateful.

"Go on." He gently pushed me toward the bathroom. Gently for him, anyway. I stumbled a little, but was otherwise fine. I took my time in there, actually wondering if I would throw up or not. I didn't want to go back out there, and fought with myself each time I attempted to move for the door.

When I finally came back out, I tried to avoid Ken's gaze. I tried to avoid him noticing me, but he saw what I was doing right away. Smiling as he took my wrist and pulled me back to him. It was right back onto his lap.

This was going to be tough.

A/N: That one was interesting. So much added and fixed, but worth it. It needed it.
THANK YOU! To my AWESOME reviewers! :D THANK YOU! I can't say THANK YOU enough.

I'm not sure how long eight will take to come out. I know this version is coming out longer, but that's the whole fun of Re-Vamping stuff, right? More room to play around.
Hope you enjoyed this one, and as always..
Until Eight, my friends! :D