Hello everyone,

Another unexpected absence. I took this week off of work so I could focus on my stories, unfortunately, I wound up getting sick. I'm not sure if it's covid or not, but I'm kinda thinking it is. Anyway, I am still sick as hell but this chapter was mostly written so I decided to read through it and post it.

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BPOV

I had just finished a fifteen-hour shift at my office when I'd entered that bank. How unfortunate for me the man now chasing me had chosen that moment to rob the damn place. I'm not sure what his motives for robbing the bank were.

Why did people generally rob places? I didn't know the answer to that question, I'd never even considered doing such a thing.

Normally, when I heard of someone robbing any place the reasons why were never analyzed, leaving me to venture my own guesses. Drugs. Adrenaline junky. Desperation. These were just a few of the reasons people risked their lives to rob a business.

Currently, I didn't give a shit about his reasons why. All I knew was I had to keep my fucking legs moving. Moments ago the prick held a gun to my head, and I wasn't particularly interested in the reasons why a barrel was aimed at my temple. I just needed to put as much distance as possible between me, and the lunatic now in full pursuit.

I heard his feet pounding on the deserted gravel road, and the fucked up shit was, there was nowhere to go. Cornfields stretched as far as the eye could see on either side of me. That didn't hinder my progress as I propelled myself down the road at record speed, however.

It was amazing how fast a person could move when their lives hung in the balance. Even when every muscle in my legs screamed, burning with exhaustion, I pushed harder and faster, the air turning to fire in my lungs with each breath.

I thought I stood a reasonable chance of escaping when my body decided to work against me. In mid-stride my ankle took a dip, rolling, and with a disgruntled cry, I slid through the gravel, going down on the dirt road. With a hard thud, I landed on rocks and pebbles, hissing as they dug into my palms as I tried to catch my weight. "Shit … fuck." Tears came to my eyes, my ankle throbbing, the joint instantly swelling, leaving me a whimpering mess."Oh fuck. Motherfucker!"

As pain splintered through my ankle, darting up my leg, I completely forgot about the crazy bastard on my heels. With shaking fingers, I reached for the limb, hot tears spilling down my cheeks as frustration burst like a flaming ball in my chest. "Holy mother, son-of-a-fucking-bitch."

I was attempting to pull off my shoe, when the devil on my heels skidded to halt beside me, spewing gravel in different directions around us.

"Oh damn," he said, dropping down beside me. Without hesitation, he grabbed my leg and sat it on his lap, yanking at the laces. Prying my shoe off, he flung the object as if it offended him, his long fingers rubbing along the swollen joint.

With the instinct of a wounded animal, I tried to take my leg back in an effort to protect the limb. Scratching at his fingers, growling, "Just let me go, and get the hell outta here. I can take care of myself."

His hair fell in his eyes as he threw a look around at cornfields stretched as far as the eye could see. Breathing hard from the chase I'd caused, he shook his head. "I don't think so. Doubt you'd be able to walk after rolling your ankle like that." As he spoke, he lifted my slacks to inspect my ankle. "Shit, it looks broken. I don't know why you ran. I told you I don't want to hurt you."

I hissed a breath as he tenderly touched the skin turning several shades of purple. The gentleness in his touch took me by surprise. A few minutes ago, he dragged me from the bank, waving a gun in my face. The ordeal was still fresh in my mind, sweat pouring from my temples, and I made another attempt to dislodge my foot from his hold. "And I'm just supposed to believe the guy who just robbed a bank, and took me, hostage? I don't think so."

He threw another quick look around before laying my leg back in the dirt. Quickly, he lifted his weight from the ground and placed his hands around my waist. Confused by his empathy, considering our position, I tossed him a startled glance. He looked at me expectantly. "Put your arm around my neck and we'll get you back to the car. Maybe find a hotel somewhere close by."

I was taken aback when he easily lifted me in his arms. I should be ripping his eyes out, his hair, beating him black and blue, but unfortunately, he was right. We were in the middle of nowhere, and with a broken ankle, there was no chance of walking anywhere.

In his haste to get the hell out of here, he practically dumped me in the passenger seat before jogging around the car. I couldn't help but notice the fear and worry etched in his face as he jumped into the driver's seat. My ankle throbbed so bad I could barely see past the pain. Wiping the remnants of tears from my cheeks, I murmured, "You said you didn't have a choice. What could be so bad that you robbed a bank?"

The guy next to me, puffed a breath, his blue eyes darting around with a wild light in them. "I didn't have a choice. Sometimes life makes us do things we never would've done." He shrugged, his lips drawing tight across his teeth. "We just have to roll with the punches."

My brow furrowed. I studied him closely trying to decipher his meaning. Propping my ankle on the dash, I willed the throbbing to subside enough to find a way out of my current position.

I stared at his hands clutching the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles turning white. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

I tore my gaze from his hold on the steering wheel, looking for an advantage in this situation. That's when I spotted the gun sitting forgotten between us.

I didn't even hesitate, grabbing the weapon and pointing it at his temple. "Take me back to town right now, or I will pull the damn trigger."

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