hers.
21
Isabelle
When we stop...
When we get to the motel, I tell Tyler that I want to get two rooms and no one fights me on it.
When we get to ours, I practically run inside, toss my bag onto the bed, and yell, “What the fuck was that?”
Dumbfounded rather than overly excited like I am, Tyler plops down on the other queen bed and stares at the ceiling.
Neither of us can believe that we actually got away with it. The cop should have caught up with us. He should have caught us.
“We were incredibly lucky,” I say. “I don't think that's going to happen again.”
Tyler nods and continues to stare straight ahead. I pace around the motel room trying to figure out what to do.
“If Maggie didn't suspect anything about us earlier, she undoubtably will now. She’s spending the night with Mac and who knows what he’s going to tell her.”
“You're not telling me anything that I don't already know,” Tyler says.
There is a monotone quality to his voice.
It's almost as if he is absent from the conversation. It's as if he's not really here.
I don't know where to begin.
I don't know what decisions we have to make first, but I do know that we need to get a new car.
I want to grab Tyler and shake him out of his coma, but I restrain myself.
I feel like I am becoming more and more hysterical. Somehow pacing around and getting my body moving is making everything worse.
I hold the phone in my palm and actually consider calling India for help. She has always been a sound voice in my head, especially when I did not have one of my own.
“Tyler,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
I nag him to move his feet out of the way and to make room, but he only does it after I kick him again.
“The cops are after us,” I say quietly. “When that cop went after us the second time, he found out something about us. I don't know what exactly, but I doubt that it was anything good.”
“I know,” Tyler agrees. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“We need a plan. If he knows who you are…” My voice trails off.
I don't exactly know how to continue. The truth is that if he knows who Tyler is, then all the cops in the state are probably looking for us.
Our car is parked right out front and perhaps that's the stupidest thing we have done so far.
“If the cops know the make, model, and the license plate of my car,” I say, “then it’s not going to be very difficult for them to find us.”
“Do you want to leave?” Tyler asks.
I shrug my shoulders.
I do, but I don't.
I want to get some rest.
I feel like I need it, but I also don't know if we're making a terrible mistake. I really hope not.
“I know that Mac is your closest friend,” I say after a long pause. I need to approach this topic very carefully, treading lightly. “I know that he saved you and that you owe him, but I don't think it's a good idea to travel with Mac and Maggie anymore.”
“I don't either,” Tyler says, surprising me.
“You don't?”
“Of course not. Especially not Maggie. She's an outsider. He just met her. If she finds out the truth about us, then it's all over.”
“So, what should we do?”
“I have no idea,” he says. “All I know is that we can't just leave them.”
I stare into his big beautiful eyes and then somewhere past him. The headboard is made of some sort of strange combination of Formica and oak.
It’s scuffed up from years of use. I focus my eyes on one particular gouge. It runs perpendicular from one side to the other as if someone had taken a nail to it and scratched it up on purpose.
Tyler is right. We can't just leave them.
Not only is it a really shitty thing to do, but it would also be dangerous for us. They would have no money and they would have no options.
What if Mac turned on us and told the authorities where we are in exchange for a better deal?
What about Maggie?
She would undoubtably take that reward money and help the FBI. She owes us no allegiance.
As I go through all of these scenarios in my mind, coming up empty with any possibility, Tyler sits up and puts his hand on my knee.
He gives it a little squeeze. It's reassuring at first,