Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(44)
She was going in circles, asking questions that had no answers. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay in her dinky little apartment any longer. Besides, Ben would show up eventually. Or Jack would. And if Jack showed up, she’d go back to him, and then it would start all over again. Ben would do something else, hurt Jack again, or his family. He’d let her go for the time being, but she knew Ben wasn’t done with her yet.
She stuffed some clothes in her tattered Jansport backpack, got in her car, and drove, not really going anywhere in particular, just driving to get away. She needed space from everything, from men, from her own fears and desires, from magic. She was hoping, somewhere deep inside, that she’d find answers to her questions somehow. Maybe the magic would provide answers on its own.
Maybe Jack would find her in spite of herself. She had her cell phone, and she’d heard it buzz a number of times, but she’d refused to look at it. There would be a dozen messages from Jack, all of them probably pleading with her to pick up, to talk to him, to tell him she was okay. She didn’t want him to worry, but she couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t have any contact with him. The only way to protect him was to keep away from him.
Maybe if she stayed away, he’d forget about her. Find a girl to love who didn’t come with so much baggage. The thought of him with another girl sent pangs of pain knifing through her heart, but she knew what he deserved. He deserved better than she could give him. She was damaged goods, and he was…Jack was perfect.
She felt tears dripping from her chin, but she didn’t care. She wiped them away, let herself cry, allowing herself to grieve for what she could have had, what she had experienced, if only for a moment. But all that was gone now.
She was traveling north, away from the city on I-75, speeding faster than her car could really handle, but she didn’t care. She passed Great Lakes Crossing without noticing, her thoughts spinning in circles, going from questions about the fire and magic in her blood, to thoughts of Ben and the man he had been before he went to Afghanistan, to Jack and how genuine he was.
So consumed was she in her own thoughts that she never even glanced in her rearview mirror. If she had, she might have noticed the red Maserati two cars back, and she might have noticed that it had been following her since she left her apartment.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach and thirst scratched at her throat, but she didn’t stop. If she stopped driving, she might never start again. She might just curl up in the back seat and cry until she slept, and then she would sleep forever. She kept driving, paying no attention to mile markers or exits or landmarks. At some point she passed the Birch Run Outlets, and she realized she had driven a lot farther than she’d realized. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care where she was or where she was going, as long as it was away from Ben, away from the temptation of Jack, away from everything.
Miriam kept driving, mile after mile humming under her tires. She would need to stop, as the gas gauge showed she was perilously close to empty. She had no idea where she was; she hadn’t been paying attention to anything but the road in front of her, driving on autopilot, lost in her whirling thoughts. The exits were few and far between in this area, and the trees were beginning to change from deciduous to conifer, oaks and birches and elms becoming pine and spruce and fir. How far had she gone?
She started watching the road signs, waiting for one that indicated a gas station. After another twenty minutes, she passed a blue sign advertising a Tubby’s and a Sunoco, both just three miles ahead. She prayed she would make it that far; the gas gauge was faulty and often indicated more gas than was actually in the tank, something she’d learned the hard way more than once.
Miriam pulled off the expressway and turned left, cursing under her breath as the engine sputtered after less than a mile. It coughed, but caught again and kept going, and Miriam decided to throw caution out the window and gun it, hoping to get as far as possible before it died on her. She really didn’t want to have to walk to a gas station and back, alone, way out here in the boonies. She glanced around her, realizing how far out in the middle of exactly nowhere she was. Farmland spread out in every direction, row after row as far as she could see, the sprawling farms lined by distant walls of trees and dirt roads, dotted with farmhouses and barns. The road she was on lay in a perfectly straight line right out to the horizon, reminding her how far three miles actually was. The Volvo coughed again, guttered and sputtered, and then went silent. She coasted over to the shoulder and turned the ignition one more time, despite knowing it wouldn’t start. The engine turned over.
Awesome. Now all she needed was some gas.
She got out, locked the door, and opened the trunk to get the red gas can—she’d run out of gas enough times that she always kept one in her trunk for emergencies like this. With a sigh and a curse, Miriam set off down the road, grateful that at least the weather was warm and dry.
Jack consumed her thoughts, her stomach a heavy pit of sadness. He had been so kind to her, so understanding. He didn’t deserve this kind of jerking around. She had to at least tell him it was over, in so many words. She pulled her phone out of her purse, not surprised to see thirteen text messages, ten missed calls, and three voicemails, all from Jack.
She scrolled through the texts first. They started out simple enough: Miriam plz call me…at least lemme know you’re ok…I’m getting worried now. just send me a text so i know youre not hurt or anything…. Then the messages became more desperate: im going crazy, Miriam! call me before i flip out, plz!…i swear to god if he hurts you i’ll f*cking kill him…. Miriam’s heart contracted, filling her with guilt. He was worried sick. She desperately wanted to talk to him, to reassure him that she was okay. She dialed his number, something she’d never actually done before. He’d always just…shown up, been there, seeking her out. Her phone beeped and went silent, telling her she was outside signal range. She’d have to wait to talk to him.