ᴡᴏʀꜱʜɪᴘ ᴍᴇ (ᴇᴊ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

11: Guilty Conscience

       An hour later you found yourself sitting outside of yet another motel. It didn't look much different than the last one apart from seeming a bit more modern. Its doors were red and the roof looked to be metal. Just like the other motel a check-in desk sat a distance away, its lights thankfully still on.

Thunderclouds growled over you as rain began to pelt the windows of your car. A storm was right over the area and it didn't appear to be moving anytime soon. Miles away you saw a spark ignite in the sky, piercing through the black landscape. Seconds later the sky boomed followed by the rain growing heavier around you.

Beside you, Jack sighed. Looking at him revealed his slouched shoulders and the way he'd seemed to sink into the seat. For once the man actually looked tired. It was strange to see him as anything but rigid and serious, but you definitely preferred it this way, even if it was temporary. There was no longer an air of hostility around the two of you, but at the same time you were very sure you'd be dead if he didn't still need you. It was a sort of limbo you couldn't see a way out of.

After all of this was done you had no idea what to do. Once the last members of the committee were dead and you'd outlived your purpose you didn't know what Jack had planned for you. Would he let you go? Would your partnership continue? Would he kill you?

You knew your only hope was to escape after you fed him the last address. To run away to another random, middle of nowhere, town and try to pick up the scraps of your life. You'd done it once, and you'd do it again. If Jack decided he wanted you dead after everything, running was all you could do.

A shaky breath left you before you turned off the engine. You reached into the backseat for your bag, soon glancing at Jack again.

"Same drill as last time?" You asked, lugging the bag into your lap. Jack regarded you with a grunt and a nod before he passed you the wallet.

Climbing out of the car, you were greeted with cold rain hitting any exposed skin your jacket didn't cover. Once Jack arrived at your side, you yanked your hood over your head and locked the car. You looked up at Jack who still towered over you, only this time he didn't seem to be paying any attention to you. A part of you still expected him to grab you and hold his scalpel to your back, but when he didn't, his words from the gas station rang in your head.

"You're an accomplice now." Though true, his words still made your heart sink. You'd only driven Jack around and watched him kill Isaac, but there was still more work to do. You had no way of knowing just how involved you may become in his revenge, and that scared you.

"Are you coming?" Jack's gruff voice pushed the thought from your mind. A few steps ahead of you, Jack stood with his head tilted and his hands in his pockets. His hood and the tops of his shoulders were soaked with rain, and some droplets even ran down his mask mixing with his black tears.

You didn't reply, instead marching towards the check-in building. Jack got the memo once your footsteps passed him. Both of you were tired. Exhaustion was practically radiating off your backs. You didn't know when Jack had last slept, but his lack of rest had definitely caught up with him. As for you, no matter how much you slept you never seemed to feel refreshed. That cloud of dread hanging over you had never dissipated. Yet even if it didn't help, your body still yearned to curl up in bed and pass out.

Dents scattered all across the worn-down pavement were filled with rain, splashing up and seeping into your socks. Everything around you was consumed by the sound of the downpour. You could hardly hear the wind, the sway of the trees, or the few cars that sped past the parking lot.

Your grip on the wallet you'd hidden away in your pocket tightened as you approached the building. With your free hand, you pulled open the glass door and stepped inside. You dragged your shoes on the welcome mat, doing your best to dry them before approaching the lone man sitting at the front desk.