It‘s three am on a Saturday morning. I’m wide awake because my roommate is having sex with her boyfriend in the next room and her headboard keeps colliding with the wall. It’s annoying…I know I have to be up for that stupid foreign language class in a few hours, and at this rate, I‘ll be falling asleep in my book.

Justin is in the city though…so I call him, just to pass the time. He seems happy to hear from me even though it‘s the middle of the night, but why wouldn’t he be? We had a lot of fun yesterday. I love spending time with him. He really gets me…

I think…I think I like him. Like…more than a friend like him. Trace is going to shit.

“What are you doing right now?” he asks me, the hint of playfulness in his voice not going unnoticed by me.

“Well,” I smile. “I was sleeping, but my roommate is banging her boyfriend in the next room…so I‘ve basically abandoned that idea.”

“Awww,” he chuckles. “Well hey…you can come here.”

I sit up a little. “To the Trump?

“Yeah,” he yawns. “It‘ll be…fun…..

My eyes open, and I realize that I’ve been dreaming. It causes me to groan a little bit, because I know that means I‘m still in the same place I was before I fell asleep…here in this hell. For a moment, I really thought I was back in the city, about to go to Justin‘s hotel suite. I have that dream a lot, and the more I have it…the more realistic it seems. Sometimes I almost think that I’m going to wake up, and I’ll have changed the past. But then…I wake up and realize that my life is exactly the way it was before I went to sleep. It’s stupid for me to think that my life could change so easily. What happened that night happened, and I think…I’ll probably be paying for my stupid decision for the rest of my life.

I turn to my right, and it’s only then that I realize Justin is gone. I feel the panic rise in my throat. “Justin?” I call out. I don’t know why. This room is only so big, and there isn’t anywhere to hide. He’s definitely not here. What happened to him? Why didn’t he wake me up when they came in? Damn it…what if they took him and left me here to die? What if they killed him? Oh my god.

I hear the lock turn, and my breath catches in my throat. I freeze in my position, half expecting one of them to open the door and shoot me. Then the door is thrust open, and I see Justin and scar face’s friend standing at the top of the stairs. Justin is visibly shaken, and there is a trickle of blood running from his mouth. My mouth gapes open, but no sound comes out. What happened? Where did they take him? Scarface’s friend shoves Justin roughly down the stairs, and he trips on the last step, falling roughly on his backside. He moans a little, and he doesn’t get up right away. When he finally does, he staggers over to me and sits down on the mattress. I look at him, and he meets my gaze. He seems so tired…so worn out. I want to ask him what happened, but I’m not about to say anything with scar face’s friend standing at the top of the stairs.

“Hey girl. Let’s go,” scar face’s friend says to me.

I look at him. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. He’s crazy. But if I don’t listen to him, I know he’s only going to make things harder for the both of us. “W-why?” I manage to ask him.

He walks down the stairs. There’s this look in his eyes. It’s the same one I saw in scar face’s. It’s predatory, evil. He reaches me and points the gun at me. “You don’t ask questions,” he tells me. “You do what I tell you, when I tell you to do it. You understand?”

I flinch as the barrel of the gun is pressed into the side of my head. “Yes,” I croak.

He pulls me to my feet, and forces me over to the stairs. I glance back at Justin once more before I’m forced to walk up them. He isn’t paying attention though. He’s sitting on the mattress, with his legs tucked under him, his head buried in his hands. I don’t know what happened. Damn it…what did they do to him?

“Quit stalling,” scar face’s friend barks.

This time I listen. I walk up the stairs, and he pushes me through the door, making sure to close and lock it behind us before shoving me on. There is a window straight ahead…something I didn’t notice last night. It’s morning now…maybe eight or nine o’clock. I’m relieved to know what time it is. It was driving me crazy before. I hope they find the decency to give us a clock in there. It’s really horrible being confined, and not knowing what time it is. I think it makes time go so much slower. Like…I know dogs have no sense of time. It’s like that. This big long never ending stretch.

He leads me down the long hallway and eventually we reach what seems to be the living room. There’s a couch against one wall and a little television set in the middle of the floor. The place is dirty and dusty…like it hasn’t been cleaned in about ten years. I start to cough. It’s a lot dustier in here than it is in that cellar, and I know it won’t be long until my allergies start to kick in full swing.

Scar face is sprawled out across the sofa, one arm resting behind his head. He’s watching the TV. How can he be so calm? Doesn’t he know what’s happening?

“You need to piss?” I hear scar face’s friend say to me.

I’ve been so busy thinking about what’s going to happen to me that I haven’t had time to think about peeing or eating or any of that. My body seems to take his question as a green light to activate my bladder again…because all of a sudden, I have to pee very badly. I look at him, and I nod. He pushes me a little further along. There is a door just outside of the living room, and he wrenches it open. There’s a toilet, and a tiny sink.

My entire life, I’ve hated using other people’s bathrooms. I don’t know why. Something about…other people’s bare asses being on the seat before mine grosses me out I guess. When I’m away at school, I always put toilet paper on the seat in my dorm room. My roommate has all kinds of friends traipsing through our place, and I know they use our bathroom. She makes fun of me for it of course, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. But this toilet…I don’t even think toilet paper would make me feel better about using it. It looks about a thousand years old, and it’s dirty…grimy. How can I pee like this? I almost ask him, but then I come to my senses. This isn’t luxury. This is a kidnapping, and I should be thankful he’s letting me use the bathroom at all.

After a moment, he shoves me inside the tiny bathroom and slams the door on me. I know it’s not locked, but I know he’s standing right outside the door. There is nowhere to go. I run the faucet first, and splash some cold water on my face. It feels good. I look around for some soap, even though it’s not logical for there to be soap in such a nasty little bathroom, and I don’t find any. I pick my head up and look straight ahead, expecting there to be a mirror above the sink…but there isn’t one of those either. I guess it’s better this way though. I must look horrendous, having barely slept at all last night, and being dragged around like I was. I know I have a big bruise on my face too…from scar face. Yeah, it’s better if I can’t see that right now either.

I turn toward the toilet, and become nauseated at the thought of how many germs are crawling around on it. To help the situation a little, I try to find the toilet paper. There is no toilet paper. Fuckin’ christ. I can’t pee this way. I need toilet paper. I know I peed in my pants a little yesterday, and I still feel disgusting about that even though it’s dried up now. I don’t want to feel all wet down there again. Not thinking about it, I knock on the door a little. “Hey,” I call through the door.

“You done?” I hear him grunt.

“No…I need toilet paper. There‘s nothing here.”

“You don’t need shit. Take a piss and get it over with.”

I realize that it was never his intention to provide me with toilet paper. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting me to have toilet bowl anxiety. “I need something,” I protest. “I…I can’t go without it.”

“You want me to come in there and shoot you, girl?”

I realize I’m not going to get anywhere this way. The more I complain, the angrier he’s going to get. And that’s either going to get me slapped around or killed. I need to get back to Justin I realize, and the only way I’m going to do that is if I pee. Drawing in a breath, I ease myself down onto the toilet bowl. It’s cold, and a little moist. I’m nauseous, but somehow, I manage to get over my anxiety and pee. I jump up from the toilet seat immediately after I’m done, and do my best to wipe my rear off with my hands. I’m still disgusted, but I feel a little refreshed. I didn’t realize that I needed to pee that badly. I pull up my pants, and flush the toilet, before knocking on the door again.

This time the door is wrenched open, and the gun is pointed in my face. “You better be done,” scar face’s friend mutters.

I flinch. “I’m…I’m done,” I stutter.

“Good.” He yanks me out of the bathroom and back into the living room. A chair has been put out, and there is a little tray with some kind of sandwich and a can of soda. Food. My stomach growls a little. I forgot about food…that I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. My mom made me a grilled cheese sandwich and I split it with Mary. I would have eaten more, but I didn’t want to spoil dinner.

He shoves me down into the chair. “Eat,” he orders. “And don’t try to fuckin’ run.” He looks at scar face. “Watch her.”

Scar face glances away from the television for a moment and nods at him, pulling his gun out of his pocket. Scar face’s friend shoots me another menacing look, and retreats out of the room. I can hear his footsteps getting further and further away…and a moment later I hear a door…maybe the front door, open and shut again.

I wonder where he’s going, and turn back to scar face, hoping that he’ll give me a clue. But all he does is wave his gun at me, reminding me that he’s got his eye on me. Then he focuses his gaze on the television again. I peer over at the screen, and realize that he’s watching Tom and Jerry. That’s Mary’s favorite cartoon, and I smile a little. The way my parents are, I’m sure they haven’t attempted to tell Mary what’s happened to me. She probably thinks I went back to school. Whenever I’m home for a visit, and I leave to go to the store or something, she always thinks I’m going back to school…and she gives me the goodbye card she drew. It’s better that she thinks I went to school though. She’s much too young to understand that I might not survive all of this. I’m sure she’s on the sofa right now, still in her pajama’s, eating her cereal and watching Tom and Jerry. I wish I was with her right now…

I wish I was anywhere but here.

I hear scar face laugh at the cartoon, and I cringe a little bit. Then I look down at the sandwich. I think it’s ham. Not my choice of breakfast foods…but I’m thankful they’ve decided to feed me at all. I hope Justin got to eat. He was bleeding though. Did he piss them off? I hope not. I hope they fed him. He needs food just like I do. I pop open my soda can, and pour the liquid into my mouth eagerly. I was so thirsty…strange, I hadn’t noticed that until now. I start to bring the sandwich to my mouth, but stop halfway. Scar face is sitting up now, his gaze focused on me instead of the cartoon.

“Hey,” he says.

I don’t answer.

“Hey is your face okay?”

I drop my sandwich. I’m not hungry anymore. Why is he talking to me? Why is he asking if my face is okay? He’s the one that hit me and he didn’t seem to give a damn about it either. But I don’t want him to get angry and hit me again, so I answer him quickly. “It’s okay,” I whisper.

“Sorry about that,” he nods. “You just…gotta behave okay?.”

His voice isn’t as raspy and fearsome as it seemed to be yesterday. I meet his gaze. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would do something like this…he seems too immature. I can’t get the fact that he is probably the same age as me out of my head. It’s scary to know that somebody from my generation could be so cold blooded…so heartless.

The question of exactly who these people are and how they know each other starts to nag at me again. I sit up a little. Maybe…if I’m nice. Maybe if I’m brave and show a little confidence in myself…I can get to know him…and get him to be on our side. I mean, now that I’m sitting here with him, he doesn’t seem so evil. He’s watching cartoons, and enjoying himself. That doesn’t mean he’s not scum…but I know he’s not as bad as his friend is. “How old are you?” I hear the question slip out of my mouth and I tremble. I shouldn’t have asked.

He’ll probably hit me now.

Scar face is silent. He seems to be considering what I’ve just asked him very carefully. “How old are you?” he shoots back.

I guess that’s fair. “Twenty three.” My appetite is starting to come back. I pick up my sandwich again and take a bite. I make a face. It’s cheap deli meat…certainly not the good kind my mother has. She goes to this little deli right outside of town. All their meats and stuff are imported and of the highest quality. My mom has me so spoiled by the place, that when I’m away at school I hardly eat cold cuts, even though New York City supposedly has the ‘best deli‘s in the world. They just aren’t the same. I remember when I was little, mom would take me there sometimes, and the butcher would cut me a slice of cheese. What was his name? Mister…Zellman, yeah that was his name. I wonder if he’s still running the place now. I’ll have to ask my mom when I see her again…

If I see her again.

Too bad there isn’t any mustard. I love mustard on my ham sandwiches.

God, I feel so selfish and spoiled right now. What’s wrong with me? These ruthless men…they’ve just done the first decent thing for me since this all started, and all I can do is complain about how the meat tastes. I feel like…Britney. Britney always complained about everything, especially when it came to Justin and how he wanted to live his life. I don’t know what he ever saw in her personally. I think he might have fallen for her because he’d known her so long and she was the first girl that he’d ever really kissed. I never objected his decision to date her. I mean, she was always nice to me, even before she and Justin started dating. She would come out on tour with us and we would hang out and smoke weed together. But still…there was always something about her that got to me. She always acted…above me for some reason. Not in the very very beginning…but later on, after she’d released her album. She would come around, and hang all over Justin, and barely give me the time of day. I was a little hurt by it at first, because we were friends for a while, and I didn’t think she would just turn around and change her attitude like that. But then I got over it…figuring she was probably never my real friend in the first place. The whole time…she was probably just using me as an excuse to get close to Justin again.

I never told Justin about the time Britney sat down and ‘talked’ to me. It happened right before…well…right before we spent the night together. They’d gotten into an argument and broken up. She told me I was the cause of it. I didn’t’ understand why. I was just his good friend then, and all I wanted to do was spend time with him when he came around. Britney didn’t seem to think it was a good idea. She said I was a girl…a pretty one, and explained that ‘pretty girls brought temptation‘. Then she said she thought it was better if I didn’t talk to Justin so much anymore. I wanted to laugh at her. It was like…she thought she owned Justin, and nobody else was allowed to share any type of special bond with him. I clued her in quick. I informed her of who I was…that I wasn’t some groupie or some bimbo. I told her that she knew how close Justin and I were, and that she had no business trying to control went on between us. She didn’t’ like that…but there was really nothing she could say. She left soon after, and I haven’t spoken to her since.

“I’m twenty one.”

I look at him. He’s twenty one? That’s crazy. He has his whole life ahead of him. Why would he want to get mixed up in something like this? He’s going to ruin his life. “That’s…young,” I say quietly.

He cocks the gun, and toys with it in his hands. “I guess,” he shrugs. “When we get the money though…I’m gonna fix it all up so I’m older. I’m gonna move to Canada. There’s this house up there that I saw two summers ago…it’s amazing, and it‘s only two hundred and fifty grand.” He pauses and gets a faraway gaze in his eyes. I can tell that this is his dream…to buy this house and live up there for the rest of his life. I catch myself in a smile, and I make myself stop. He’s going to buy a house in Canada with Justin’s money. He’s kidnapped us. He’s a bastard.

“The house…it’s by this lake. Shane says I could open up a little boat shop there,” he tells me, keeping more of his attention focused on the television than on what he‘s saying. “Those places make so much money.”

Who the hell is Shane?

“But I dunno,” he continues, letting out a tired yawn. “I might just live off of this money for awhile, ya know?”

I finish the last of my sandwich. My stomach is still growling though. I wonder when they’ll feed us again. Tomorrow? God, I hope not. I need to eat again today. Even if it is a crappy ham sandwich…it’s still food….

“So what about you?”

He’s still talking. I realize that if I’m going to get on scar face’s good side, now is the time to do it. I don’t know when I’ll have the chance to be alone with him again. His friend…he’s like this obsessive control freak. I’m surprised he left us alone in the first place. “Me?” I say.

“Yeah,” he nods. “What’s your story? I’ve never seen you before.”

He means he’s never seen me with Justin before. Geez, these guys must have been stalking Justin for a long time. They must have known he was going home by himself, and figured they had a golden opportunity to get what they wanted. They didn’t count on me being with him yesterday though. “I…I’m just me,” I say nervously.

“You live in Tennessee?”

I’m thankful he’s asked me this. I thought that they might have driven us into another state…but since he’s asked me, and since I know he’s not the brightest person in the world, I’m guessing we’re still in state. I’ll have to tell Justin. He’ll probably be a little relieved, and that’s good because he looked really upset before. I nod at scar face. “Yeah, well…I go to school most of the year, but when I’m not in school I come back here.”

“Oh you’re in school?” His eyes get wider as he asks me the question. “I wanted to go to school…but Shane didn’t have the money to send me. I might take some classes after I get my house though. I think I’d like to do some kind of culinary arts thing. I love to cook.”

Scar face has put the fear of god in me, and I can’t picture him going to school like everybody else my age. What if he’s a rapist or something? What if he like, takes unsuspecting girls and gets them drunk and forces himself on them? It will be all my fault…all my fault for letting them get away with what they’re doing to us.. I don’t let my feelings show though. Instead I force a half smile and say, “That sounds cool.”

“So what’s the deal with you and Justin? You go out with him?” he asks me, an all too knowing smile on his face.

I look away from him. I want them to think that I’m his girlfriend. For some reason, I think I have a better chance of staying alive if they think that I am. Only…they might hold me over Justin’s head But what can I do? I don’t want to risk telling scar face that I’m not…that I’m just a friend…a friend that hasn’t even spoken to Justin in three years. He’ll probably tell his friend, and his friend will probably shoot me because he won’t think I’m worth all this trouble. “Yes.”

“Liar.”

I‘m starting to get angry. I don’t want them to know about my relationship with Justin. It’s none of their business. “I’m not lying.”

“I heard the way he was talking to you…how he was telling you to get back in the car,” he snickers. “That isn’t how a guy treats his girl.”

I glare at him. I shouldn’t be glaring at him though. I should be terrified because he’s sitting on the couch with his gun pointed at me. But now he’s getting into this…Justin and me, and he has no place in it…none. “How would you know,” I snap. “You hit women. That’s low. But I guess you’re used to it…being the scum that you are.” I immediately bite my lip. That was too bold. Way too bold.

“What?” he says, getting off the sofa. “What did you say?”

I feel my heart begin to beat faster as he starts to approach me. “I…nothing…”

“It didn’t sound like nothing, girl,” he yanks me out of the chair, and presses his gun to my forehead. “I think you just insulted me…and I hate to be insulted.” I hear him cock the gun again, and I flinch slightly. He could very well kill me right now, and it wouldn’t matter. With me gone, it’s one less mouth to feed for them…it’s one less person that they have to keep an eye on. They would still get their four million for Justin, and his friend would probably get enjoyment out of burying me in the woods someplace.

But that doesn’t mean I want to die.

“Please,” I manage. “I didn‘t mean to.”

He spins the chamber of the gun a few times, and smiles at me before slapping it back into place. “Now,” he says. His breath is hot in my ear, and I get a whiff of something…whisky maybe? “There’s one bullet in there. If I pull the trigger, do you think you’ll get off lucky?”

I shrug. I’m terrified right now, but I’m trying as hard as I can not to let my feelings show. I realize that I can do that with scar face. It’s easier for me to stay calm around him now. He’s so young…and a little nicer than his companion. But I know I can’t trust him. His gun to my head is proving that to me. “I don’t know,” I say finally.

“How about we see?”

His smile is evil. I don’t know what I was thinking telling him that he was scum. Scar face isn’t just some ordinary run of the mill asshole. He’s a kidnapper…a killer. “No,” I croak. “Don’t.”

“Nate!”

The smile on his face fades, and he pushes me back down into the chair. I whimper a little. That was scary. What if he pulled the trigger? Would it have gone off? I guess I’ll never know. Knowing scar face, the gun is probably fully loaded. I’m sure I was only seconds away from being killed…for the second time since our ordeal began.

“What the hell Nathan?”

I glance over my shoulder in time to see the other man storm into the room. He looks more upset than angry, and that‘s probably a good thing. I wonder where he went before. “What are you doing?” he asks him.

Scar face…or now I guess I can call him Nate, frowns and looks down at the floor. “I was just…fuckin’ with her.”

He takes the gun out of Nate’s hand and pokes him roughly in the chest with his finger. “Don’t be fuckin with the merchandise.”

Nate doesn‘t take his gaze from the floor. “I’m sorry, Shane.”

Shane…so that’s who he is.

Shane pats him on the shoulder, like I saw him do last night by the car. “It’s okay…it’s alright,” he reassures him. “Just…think okay? This isn’t one of those small time jobs like before. This is high profile.”

Shawn nods.

“Okay.” Shane half smiles, and then looks back at me. “You givin him trouble?”

I shake my head.

He sighs. “Whatever…lets go.” He grabs me by my arm and forces me out of the living room. He leads me back down that same hallway, his gun to my back the entire time. I start to wonder about the rest of the house. Just how big is it? What other rooms lie beyond this hallway? I’m sure there is a second floor. When we were outside the house it looked like it had one. I wonder what’s up there. Probably nothing…just some old furniture and things. I wish I could go exploring though…it would make the time go by a lot faster.

We reach the door to the cellar, and he opens it again. I see Justin. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees. He looks at me tiredly, not moving from his position. I can tell he’s had enough of being locked in a room for hours on end. I have too. I want to get out of here so badly. How much longer do we have to go through this? I know the drop is supposed to be tomorrow. But tomorrow seems like it’s never going to get here.

“Go on,” Shane grumbles.

“Can we…have that watch?” I ask him, pointing to the watch on his wrist. “It’s really driving us crazy not knowing what time it is in there.”

“This ain’t no Hilton,” he snaps. “Be thankful you’re not dead yet.” He motions to the door with his gun. “Go.” He pushes me through the door, and it slams shut behind me. Then I hear the lock being turned, and I know I’m back to square one.

I walk down the steps, and over to Justin. He barely acknowledges me, but I sit down next to him anyway. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he whispers sadly.

I know there‘s something wrong. Last night…he seemed so confident last night, so sure that we could beat these two guys. Right now it seems like he‘s lost his head though. His face is pale, and he looks so…lost. I study his face. The bruises he received last night are still there…some lighter than others. But he has a few fresh ones too. Now I’m worried. What did he do this time? Did he say the wrong thing? Did he try to get away? I don’t want to ask him about it…I know he’s probably not in the mood to discuss it, but at the same time I’m too worried about him not to say anything at all. “What happened to you earlier?” I ask him.

For a moment he doesn‘t answer me. He runs a hand through his short curls and down the back of his neck. His face is turning red…and I know he‘s trying not to cry. I wish he would. I wish he would break down just once so I know that I‘m not as weak as I think I am. “He took me to pee,” he tells me, much too quickly.

I frown. I know it‘s a lie. “That’s all?” I say.

“Yes,” he groans with annoyance. “That’s fuckin’ all Kerri. If I had something to tell you I would…but I don’t…so just go and lay down or something. Leave me alone.”

My mouth gapes a little bit. I’m a little shocked by his sudden change of attitude. Last night it seemed that all he wanted to do was hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. For a little while, I thought things were starting to change for us. Like…we could be friends again or something. But right now…he’s pushing me away again. I don’t understand. Is he scared? So scared now that he can’t stand the thought of confiding in me? “Justin…”

He looks at me. He‘s not angry…I don‘t think he ever was. He looks hurt or something. Like somebody did something to him that was so wrong, it‘s killing him inside. After he and Britney broke up, Trace would call and tell me that he was walking around in this daze, like the whole world had come crashing down around him. I’m pretty sure that he was trying to guilt trip me into calling Justin, and at the time…I didn’t believe that Justin could get that depressed over a girl, because of how he treated me. This is probably what he looked like then. Tired…worn out…hurt. I want to pull him close and tell him its going to be okay, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to be comforted that way right now. His arms are wrapped around himself protectively. He doesn’t want to be touched…and that’s okay.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he says finally. He shifts himself closer to me and inspects my face a little, as if he’s trying to make sure they didn’t do anything to me. “I’m just…really confused, and really tired right now. It‘s not you Ker.”

I nod a little.

“They didn’t…” he pauses and scratches the side of his mouth. “They didn’t touch you did they?”

“No,” I say, my eyes widening a little. I should tell him about the Russian roulette thing, but I don’t want to make him more upset than he obviously already is. I feel bad about not telling him though. I know he would want me to. I know he would tell me if they did it to him. “They let me pee and they gave me a sandwich.”

“Good,” he nods. “That’s good Kerri.” He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. I see his bottom lip tremble a little, but he seems to catch himself before losing control.

“Did you get to eat,” I ask him.

He opens his eyes, and glances at me quickly. “I wasn’t hungry,” he replies.

That’s a flat out lie. I don’t know how much Justin ate when he went home, but it couldn’t have been that much. I know him…and I know he has a big appetite…he’s gotta be starving by now. When he first started out in the business, he had to cut back on so many things. He couldn’t eat fast food…those little chocolate truffles he loves so much…his grandmother’s pie. It was all salads, and protein shakes, and hours at the gym. He hated it at first, and he used to get pissed off at his mother when she wouldn‘t let him cheat. They had a lot of really bad arguments about it…and I was kind of shocked because Justin and his mother never really fought before that. I guess he felt like he was missing out, but he really wasn’t…he was getting the opportunity of a lifetime and he had to follow the rules.

Justin doesn’t like to follow the rules.

Then his hard work started to pay off. He wasn’t scrawny little Justin anymore. He was big…built. Hell, he was hot and he knew it too. After awhile he started to like the attention he was getting because of his lean, muscular form. All the girls wanted him, and record producers looked at him and started to see ‘potential‘. At first, it kind of pushed us apart a little…because he was turning into a teen icon and I was still little Kerri from Millington. We got past that phase though, when he realized that even though these girls loved him and wanted him…they couldn’t understand him like I could.

“We’re still in Tennessee,” I say, trying to sound positive.

He shoots me a confused glance. “How do you know?”

“The younger guy…he was talking to me a little bit,” I say. “He asked me if I was from Tennessee.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re still in Tennessee,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “And why were you talking to him? Don’t you know how sick these guys are?”

I shrug, but don’t meet his gaze. I feel stupid now. I really thought that telling Justin that would give him some hope. But all it did was make me look like a fool. “He just…he started talking to me about himself and--”

“Don’t talk to them,” he says harshly. “Don’t tell them about yourself…don’t tell them anything. Jesus Christ…you can’t befriend these people. They’re murderers Kerri…they have no regard for either of our lives. Do you understand? Talking to him…it’s like letting your guard down. This is about money okay? It‘s not about us.”

Everything he’s saying is totally making sense. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I thinking I can befriend Nate, and convince him to drop this whole thing? I can’t…I know I can’t. There is four million dollars at stake here. He’s not going to give that up for anything in the world.

“Promise me you won’t do it again,” he says forcefully.

I look into his eyes. They, like the rest of his expression are lost…and full of pain. I’ve always envied the color of Justin’s eyes. It’s this angelic crystal looking blue. I’ve never seen anything like them on anybody else. My eyes…they’re this dull blue color. I hate them. “I…I promise. Justin, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t be sorry. Just…be careful okay?”

I nod. Then to my surprise he takes my hand and interlocks his fingers with mine. I don’t let go. Last night…before we covered up together I know I would have. But right now…he seems to need this from me. I watch him close his eyes, and a moment later his head is resting on my shoulder. I’m wide awake, and I know I’d much rather talk to him than sit here in silence while he recovers from whatever traumas he faced before…but I’m not going to be selfish right now. I’m going to sit here and let him have his few hours of peace before the chaos starts again.

Just as I am about to drift off myself, I hear him moan and I gasp a little. “Justin?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away from me. For a moment he‘s frightened. His eyes are wide, and he‘s looking at me like he has no idea who I am. “Huh? Oh…Kerri, it‘s just you.” The realization seems to calm him slightly, and he relaxes against me again.

Something is going on with him. Something horrible. I don‘t know if it‘s these guys who are doing it to him…or if its something that‘s been going on in his life recently. All I know is that I can‘t bare to see him this terrified, and not know the cause of it. “Justin,” I say, stroking his face lightly with my hand. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh…” he whispers. He quickly moves my hand away from his face, and then smiles a little. It’s a forced smile. “Nothin’,” he reassures me. “Nothin’ at all.”

And I believe him, because right now…he’s the only person in this world I can trust.

A LONG DAY