(London)
We’d gotten away, finally. Just as our gas tank was about empty, and we were about to stop, we went into a single-lane tunnel, and then swerved out into a field, the car crashing badly into a tree, losing them in the whole single-lane tunnel confusion. We were fine, because of the air bags, but ouchie. I was going to have one hell of a bruise. The place where I’d banged against my seatbelt was killing me already.
I opened the car door, and it fell off. Josh got out as well, wincing. The car window had smashed, and some glass had cut him. There was a gash, right over his eyebrow. Though it was kind of small, the cut looked deep – it might need stitches. It would at least scar.
I walked to the front of the car, inspecting the damage. The bumper was all busted up. There was no way we could drive it now.
“What are we meant to do?” Josh asked, breaking the silence, clearly panicking. He was obviously the kind of guy who did not do well under pressure. Kidnapper was probably the worst career choice for him, then. The only job worse than Kidnapper, for him, would be Assassin. (He’d already proved that he was completely useless with weapons. I mean, come on?! Water gun? A three year old could do better.)
So why, at the same time, am I finding him totally cute?
“We go into hiding, of course. We are now master villains.” I said, trying to push down these stupid thoughts.
He raised his eyebrows, then winced when the cut stretched.
“Master villains?”
“Yes, ‘master villains'. I’ve kind of always wanted to say that.”
“Right,” he said, smirking at me, in a cute-but-teasing-way that made my heart thump. Damn it. “Except we wouldn’t be master villains, if you didn’t swear at the cops.”
“You’re the one who told me to do it!”
“Sure, sure.”
“Shut up,” I said, annoyed. He ignored me.
“So where to you want to go hide?”
I turned away to hide my blush, and so his cute-ness wouldn’t distract me. Because, believe me, it was really distracting.
“Hotels are out, now,” I said. “They’ve realized that the car,” we both looked at the car, “was the same car stolen. So they know we have the money to stay in a hotel.”
“So…motel?”
“No, they’ll be expecting that as well. You know how car chases are always on television. Well, every person in America will probably know our faces by now.”
“…car?”
I gave him some time to see that our car was not very big. No way would we both be able to sleep in it. Not comfortably, anyway. Also, the bumper was completely wrecked, and the windows were trashed. I’d only gotten a minor cut on my finger, but Josh’s cut was way worse. If we attempted to go back in there, we’ll probably be lacerated a couple dozen more times.
“Why don’t you come up with an idea?” Josh yelled, looking annoyed.
“Well,” I said, picked at my nail. I really needed a manicure. I had a load of grit under my nails, from the whole crashing-into-a-tree-and-having-to-drag-myself-out thing. Eurgh. How did Josh not get annoyed? Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was a clean freak. “I was just thinking we could, you know, break into an empty house or something. Since we stole a car, it won’t really matter if we have breaking and entering on our rap sheet, now would it?”
