Road Tripping (11 page)

They turned and
saw the two men in business suits, both holding guns. Ashley noticed that it
had been Cute Guy who’d spoken. He sounded educated. Articulate. Not the way
she would have expected a hired gun to sound.

When they
didn’t move, the other guy added, “The girl is disposable.”

Ethan made an
uncontrolled sound in his throat, but he immediately heaved himself to his
feet. Before he rose, he whispered to her quickly, “If I can distract them, you
try to run away.”

There was
absolutely no way Ashley was going to leave Ethan by himself with these men who
might kill him, but she figured this wasn’t the best time to argue about it.

Ashley didn’t get
up. Wasn’t sure she was physically capable of standing.

“She’s
meaningless to you,” Ethan said calmly, gesturing at Ashley. “I’ll go with you.
Just leave her alone.”

It felt like
some kind of romantic, adventure movie, where the hero sacrificially offers
himself in order to save the lovely damsel.

Ashley hated
being the damsel and wasn’t about to let Ethan sacrifice himself. But she
couldn’t immediately think of anything to do.

Cute Guy
shrugged. “We’ll take you both. Jones wants you alive. If you come without
trouble, things will go more easily on you both. Particularly on the girl.”

Ashley had
never seen Ethan’s face look quite so hard. “I’m not going with you, and you
aren’t taking her.”

Ethan glanced
back at Ashley, and she tried to smile at him encouragingly. He gave her his
dear, familiar smirk in response—as if he couldn’t believe they were in this
absurdly clichéd situation.

Evidently
getting into the dramatic mood, he turned back around to the men. Continued
with the perfect, predictable line, absolutely no fear in his voice, “You’ll
have to kill me first.”

“Okay.”

Cute Guy shot Ethan.
Ashley screamed.

And it seemed
to be the end of the fifth day.

Somewhere
in Indiana

It was the blood that finally
forced Ashley to admit the truth.

The sound of
the gunshot seemed deafening, and the explosion had made a strange flash in the
dark evening landscape, but it was the blood on Ethan’s shirt—on the grass
where he fell—that really opened her eyes.

Her efforts
today at distancing herself, at trying to protect herself from him had been
futile. It was already too late. No barrier she tried to erect between them
would have made any difference. It was over, finished, completely decided.

Her feelings
had been a done deal from the very beginning.

Ashley had to
acknowledge it when she saw his blood spill onto the ground. Her heart was
already gone.

Forgetting the
two men still standing there with guns, as soon as Ashley could make herself
move, she heaved herself onto unsteady legs and ran over to collapse next to his
body.

“Ethan,” she
cried, her hands on him, trying to turn him over to see his condition. “Ethan.”
He didn’t move at all, and blood seemed to be everywhere.

She leaned her
face close to him to see if he was breathing, not wanting to examine the wound
too closely for fear of what she would discover.

There were
tears in her eyes, and her hands were trembling, and she thought for a moment
that she might faint.

Then she jerked
back in surprise as she heard a low whisper from Ethan’s lifeless body. “I’m
dead,” he said, barely moving his mouth.

She blinked and
something came back to life inside her heart. Clearly he wasn’t dead—or even
dying—if he could say it so matter-of-factly.

And so bossily.

She knew
immediately what he meant, despite the cryptic language. So she let out an
anguished wail that echoed throughout the empty countryside. “You killed him!
He’s dead!”

She heard gruff
swearing from behind her, and so she turned to catch the men’s reactions.
Neither looked happy with her news.

“Murdering
bastards!” she howled, trying to sound as overcome and hysterical as possible.
“You killed him. I loved him. My only love. Now he’s dead!” She gave some
great, heaving sobs and rose to her legs. Only to fall back on the ground at
Cute Guy's feet.

“Fuck,” Cute
Guy spit out, lowering his gun.

The other guy
turned to stare furiously at his partner. “Idiot. We needed him alive.”

“I was aiming
past his shoulder, but the moron tried to duck out of the way. I didn’t mean to
kill him.” As he defended himself, Cute Guy started to look more and more
nervous. “This whole deal has been a mess from the very beginning. Go see if
he’s really dead.”

Ashley was
still weeping in a pathetic heap on the ground, but she saw from the corner of
her eye that the other guy had lowered his gun as well and was going over to
peer at Ethan’s motionless body. He sure looked dead. If Ashley hadn’t heard
him speak, she would have been sobbing for real right now.

She hoped Ethan
wasn’t seriously hurt. There seemed to be so much blood.

Releasing
another wail or two, Ashley tensed herself for action. She was sure Ethan was
about to make a move, and she was going to be prepared when he did.

Not that she
really knew what she would do, but she was sure she’d think of something when
the moment came.

The other guy
was starting to lean over Ethan, and Cute Guy took a few steps over toward
them. Both of them were ignoring Ashley’s despairing theatrics.

Just as the man
was reaching out to touch Ethan’s shoulder, Ethan’s right fist came up out of nowhere
and slammed into his face. With a muffled grunt, the man flew backwards to land
with a thud on the ground, and his gun was thrown out of his hand.

Ashley leaped
up and scrabbled over to retrieve it.

While she did
so, Ethan had regained his feet and was struggling with Cute Guy for the second
gun. Cute Guy had been taken by surprise, and so even though Ethan was wounded,
the fight was almost even.

Ashley had by
this point picked up the other gun, so she used the butt of it to hit the other
guy on the head when he was starting to get up.

Then she took a
few steps over to the struggling men and aimed the gun as steadily as she
could. “Give Ethan the gun or I’ll shoot.”

Her hands were
shaking a little, and she was pretty sure she’d never be able to hit Cute Guy
without accidentally hitting Ethan instead. But it was dark, and Cute Guy might
not know this.

Her threat
worked in a way she wasn’t expecting. Cute Guy was distracted by her, glanced
over to see what she was doing.

Ethan took that
opportunity to snatch the gun out of his hand.

“Fuck,” Cute
Guy said, when he realized what had just happened. His handsome face was
contorted with what looked more like annoyance than rage.

“Maybe later,” Ethan
said pleasantly enough, holding the gun in his right hand. The blood was mostly
located on his left arm and side. “But definitely not with you.”

“Stop wasting
time making smart remarks,” Ashley grumbled. “Should I tie them up or
something?”

“With what?” Ethan
asked, shooting a glance in her direction. “You all right?”

The second
question gave Ashley a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I had the
situation completely under control. You didn’t have to rise up from your death
scene to rescue me.”

Ethan still had
his eye on Cute Guy, who was standing with a snarl on his face, and the other
guy was moaning on the ground. But Ethan smiled at Ashley’s comment. “I’m sure
you could have handled them all. But you’ve got to give me something to do so I
don’t feel useless. Can you check their car to see if there’s any rope or tape
or something to tie them up with?”

Obligingly, Ashley
went to poke through the dark sedan and eventually emerged with two pairs of
handcuffs. “How convenient. Shall I put them on these gentlemen?”

Ethan looked
hesitant. Then walked over so that he was holding the gun directly at Cute Guy’s
head. “Go ahead,” he prompted her. His eyes, as he glared at Cute Guy, were
dangerous and predatory, although he was dead white and clearly in pain from
his wound.

Ashley pulled
the man’s hands behind his back and secured the handcuffs. Then they followed
the same process with the Other Guy.

Once the bad
guys were bound, Ashley pushed Ethan toward the sedan. “Let’s go. We’ll just
leave them here. Maybe someone will come by in a couple of days to help them.”

Ethan nodded, looking
for a moment like he might faint.

“I’ll drive,” Ashley
added, propelling Ethan in the right direction. “Since you’ve been shot and
everything.”

They got in the
sedan and drove off, leaving the bad guys handcuffed and coughing in a cloud of
dust.

“How bad is
it?” Ashley asked quietly, turning to check Ethan out as she accelerated down
the dark, empty road.

Ethan was
holding a hand to his injured arm. “Just a scratch."

“That’s a lot
of blood for just a scratch.” She tried to get a good look at his wound. She
couldn’t see much, but Ethan was damp with perspiration and breathing unevenly.
“I’m going to find a hospital.”

“No. No
hospitals. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jones hired more than the two of them to
find us. The first place their associates will look for us will be the
hospitals.”

Ashley felt a
little like screaming. “Ethan, you’ve been shot. You need medical attention.”

“You’re in
pre-med, aren’t you? Plus, I have some experience with this sort of thing. Just
get us to a motel, and I can take care of it on my own.”

That was the
most ridiculous thing Ashley had ever heard. “I’m driving. We’re going to a
hospital. All you do in pre-med is take anatomy classes. I have no idea what to
do with a bullet wound.”

“I’m putting my
foot down. If you drive me to a hospital, I won’t go in. And then I’ll leave
you behind—you’ll never see me again.”

Ashley felt a
painful lump in her throat. Swallowed over it hard. “All right. Be stubborn if
you want. Motel it is. I’ll go in a different direction than we were originally
travelling, so maybe they won’t be able to find us so easily.”

Ethan nodded
and leaned his head back against the seat.

“You aren’t
going to pass out or anything, are you?” Ashley asked, an edge of fear in her
voice.

“I don’t think
so.”

She really,
really wished he’d given a smart comeback. A rude response. An arrogant jibe.
Anything but those simple, quiet words.

She’d never
heard him sound so weak before, not in all the years she’d known him.

She turned
south as soon as they crossed a highway and drove for a half-hour before they
started approaching Bloomington and finally ran into civilization. On the
outskirts of town, she stopped at a cheap motel and ran in to get them a room.

Then she tried
to help Ethan out of the car, but he pushed away her hands and got himself out
on his own.

Swearing at him
under her breath, Ashley unlocked the door and walked into a dingy room with
only one bed. Ethan went immediately into the bathroom and shut the door behind
him.

Ashley threw
open the closed door. Fortunately, he hadn’t locked it yet. “Damn it, Ethan. You
have to let me help you.”

Ethan was
trying to remove Gus’s gray T-shirt with slightly unsteady hands. His left arm,
both his hands, the torn shirt, and his neck were all smeared with blood. Ashley
wanted to cry at the sight of it.

“I’m fine,” he
told her coldly, not even looking at her. “I don’t need you fluttering about
and getting in the way. I know what I’m doing.”

Ashley ignored
him and reached to grab the sides of his shirt to help him pull it off. Ethan
jerked from her grasp and pushed her hands away with his uninjured arm.

“Ethan, stop
being stupid. I’m just trying to help you.”

“I don’t need
any help.” He took a few deep breaths, as if he were trying to control
dizziness or nausea.

He was turned
away from her, so Ashley put her hands on his back. Slid them up to rest on his
shoulders. “Do you remember what you told me in the bathroom of that gas
station? About us being in this together and needing to accept help from each
other.”

Ethan remained
perfectly still. Didn’t turn around. Seemed to have even stopped breathing.

“Well, that
goes both ways,” Ashley continued, her voice breaking just a little in her
earnestness. “You’ve helped me for days, through all kinds of things. Now it’s
my turn to help you.” She moved her face closer to him until she was breathing
on the back of his neck. “Please let me help you, Ethan.”

He still didn’t
say anything, but he turned around, which Ashley took as a sign of agreement.
His lips were pressed together, and his eyes were unreadable. But he let her
help him off with his bloody shirt.

“Is the bullet
still…” Her voice faded away before she completed the question. The image of a
bullet anywhere inside Ethan’s body was almost more than she could handle.

“No, it just
grazed me.” He was standing perfectly stiff, staring at the floor. “It’s not a
very serious injury.”

“But you’ve
lost a lot of blood.” Her hands shook from anxiety and from how far distant Ethan
had suddenly drifted. “Even minor bullet wounds are nothing to play around
with. We need to tie it up with something to make sure the bleeding is
stopped.”

“Towel.”

Ashley mopped
up the blood as much as she could and wound one of the thin motel towels
tightly around Ethan’s upper arm. It was a clean wound—nothing but flesh had
been torn. With medical attention, it would probably heal very quickly.

When Ashley had
treated him as well as she could manage with their present resources, Ethan
left the bathroom. Without speaking, he went to lie down on the bed, propping
his head up on the pillows.

She wished she
knew what was wrong with him. Why he had suddenly gotten so silent and
detached. How the humor and warmth and even the anger had just disappeared
without warning

But he seemed
hurt in ways that weren’t just physical, and she couldn’t bear for him to be in
pain. So Ashley had to try to comfort him.

She lay down
next to him in the bed. When he turned onto his side, showing her his back, Ashley
screwed up her determination and scooted over until she was spooning him from
the back.

“Ethan. What’s
wrong? What happened?”

He kind of
grunted, but didn’t give any clear response. Every muscle in his body was
tense.

“Is it that
hard for you to let someone help you? To let
me
help you, even after
everything we’ve been through?” Her hand was resting gently on his shoulder,
carefully avoiding his injury.

He didn’t
respond again, so Ashley stopped trying to talk. She didn’t know exactly what
was going on with him, but she knew he needed someone right now.

So she held him
as tightly as she could without hurting him, and she let her body be as much
comfort as it could.

She suddenly wished
it was really her job to comfort him, wished that she were the person he’d turn
to when he needed help. Wished she were allowed to take care of him.

For real. For
longer than this night.

They lay
together until Ethan relaxed and then finally closed his eyes. When his
breathing deepened and evened out, Ashley carefully pulled away from him and
got off of the bed. She went to get the car keys and Ethan’s billfold.

Shutting the
door quietly behind her, Ashley left the room and got into the car. She drove
around until she found a discount store that was open all night. There, she
briskly made her way through the aisles, replacing all of their personal items
that had exploded with the old truck and stocking up on appropriate first aid
products. Then she made an executive decision and went to the clothing
department. She bought a pair of cheap khakis for Ethan and a pack of white
crew-neck T-shirts. Then she bought herself an inexpensive pair of jeans, a
cotton top, and a pair of little white tennis shoes. In addition to the
appropriate undergarments.