The rain had truly picked up, soaking Jane’s hair. It clung to her neck as she crawled into the van and shut the door behind her.

Ryder sat at one end, ancient brick of a cell-phone in hand. The glow of the screen was the only source of light in the dim interior, illuminating his features from beneath. His eyes were ringed by dark circles, his cheeks gaunt.

“Hey,” Jane said, dragging herself next to him on the floor. The insulation of the van was thin, and she could feel the cold of the weather through the walls.

A picture of a woman adorned Ryder’s screen, her hair the same shade as Ryder’s. His mother.

The sounds of rain striking the roof of the van were muffled from inside, blending together in a comfortable beat. Jane began laying out the feast she had procured for them, a veritable buffet of artery-clogging junk food and sugary snacks.

The liquor bottle clicked as she placed it against the floor. Ryder’s gaze snapped to it, eyes narrowed, phone still clenched in his hand. Jane rested her hand on his knee, having finished preparing their stolen meal.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Ryder lowered his phone. “Feels like we ask each other that a lot. Normal couples don’t do that, do they?”

Jane felt a silent thrill at the fact that he’d referred to them as a couple. “You didn’t answer my question.”

There was a pause before he spoke. “Yeah. Just thinking about how we ended up here.”

Jane smiled, thinking about how small her problems had been before, how much she had taken for granted. “Remember when you bumped into me in that hallway? You must’ve been so distracted.”

“You know, I bumped into you intentionally,” he admitted, a dry chuckle punctuating the admission.

“You did not!” Jane’s mouth fell open.

“Come on.” His hand found her own, still on his knee. “The cute new girl, looking lost? I couldn’t help myself.”

Jane shook her head, still smiling. Physically bumping into girls was a truly terrible way to start a conversation, not to mention some form of harassment. Perhaps Ryder had a touch of teenage awkwardness in him after all.

He reached out, ignoring the food entirely, and instead uncorked the bottle of liquor. The familiar chemical stench bloomed from the mouth, before Ryder pressed it to his lips.

The smell brought back memories for Jane. Painful ones.

“Don’t hog it all,” Jane said, taking the bottle from Ryder.

She had to suppress the memories. Even just for tonight.

It burned in a way Jane had never encountered, the liquor. She gagged as soon as it entered her stomach.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Jane admitted, wincing in revulsion at the drink.

Ryder’s chuckle was different this time. Bitter, and a touch regretful. “Neither of us do. They’ll find us eventually. It’s just a matter of time.”

Jane rested her head against the cool wall behind her. The liquor was buzzing through her veins, softening the pain in her mind. The voice was gone, suppressed by the chemical force of the alcohol.

“I’ve been trying to escape for so long, and now that I have…” Ryder made a clicking noise with his lips, taking another draught from the bottle. “Hey, what happened between you and Victoria?”

“Well... there’s something I never told you about all this. I was working with an undercover cop.”

Ryder nodded, unsurprised. “Right. The mole.”

“Yeah, well, turns out the ‘mole’ is Victoria’s dad. She’s been lying to me all this time,” Jane’s voice cracked a bit at the end.

“How did I never see it before?” Ryder smoothed his hair back, thinking. “It makes sense. The police department fired a lot of cops after my dad pulled funding. Watson Allyson was one of them. Nobody’s seen him in years.”

“Wait,” Jane’s mind was dulled from the drink, but one thing still stood out to her, “He was fired?”

Ryder nodded, opening a bag of crisps. “Yeah. We all thought he and his family left town, after that. Victoria must’ve just been a kid when that happened. Everyone lost track of her.”

Jane drew her knees up against her chest, resting her chin on them. She wasn’t surprised. She’d gotten used to being lied to. In all likelihood, taking down Jackson was probably part of some scheme of Watson’s to get back on the police force.

Thunder roared from somewhere overhead. Jane was too tired to be startled. Her eyelids weighed heavy, burdened by the excitement of the day. Narrowly escaping capture and committing petty theft had taken their toll on Jane.

“Ryder?” her voice was soft, slurred somewhat by the drink.

“Hmm?” he intoned, mouth full of greasy potato.

“Can I sleep next to you?” Jane asked.

She didn’t want to hear the gunshot in her dreams anymore.

“Jane, wake up,” Ryder hissed, his voice tight and urgent.

The rain had weakened to a drizzle, leaving only a damp cold in the air. Jane raised herself from the floor, wiping drool from her mouth. “What? What is it?”

The sun had evidently set as she slept, and only a thin sliver of the road was visible through the glass of the van.

“Stay low,” Ryder whispered, “they found us.”

Keeping on all fours, Jane crawled to Ryder’s side of the van, peeking out the same window he was.

A familiar shock of greasy hair was striding towards them. Ice gripped Jane’s heart.

“Ryder!” Grease-ball shouted. The pistol in his hands was freshly oiled, and shined under the streetlights. “Come out! We know you’re in there, and the boss-man’s lookin’ for ya’!”

Ryder cursed under his breath. They had found them sooner than he’d thought. The situation was entirely out of control.

A knock resounded from the driver side window. Jane yelped in surprise as another thug peeked through the glass, the tip of a gun pressed against it. They were surrounded at all angles, boxed in with no way out.

Ryder’s hand turned Jane by the shoulder. Before she could react, his lips met hers, fierce and hungry.

The kiss was over as quickly as it had started. The lines of Ryder’s face, intensified by exhaustion and hunger, were all the more pronounced as he clenched his jaw.

“I love you,” he said, opening the door.

The thugs shouted in surprise at his sudden appearance, their guns trained on him. The rain was picking up, droplets catching the light as they fell to the pavement.

Ryder’s hands were raised above his head in a show of surrender. Slowly, the greasy-haired man approached, his expression one of wariness.

“You got me good, back in the store. Boss-man woulda’ been impressed,” he growled.

Ryder did not reply, afraid any sudden movements would end with a bullet in him.

Jane would not leave him to face them alone. She clambered from the van, standing firm at his side.

“Good. You’re both here. Two birds inna’ stone,” Grease-ball cackled with satisfaction.

“With one stone,” Jane corrected.

“Whus’it, girly?”

“It’s two birds with one stone.”

“Jane,” Ryder hissed, shushing her.

Grease-ball frowned. He lowered his gun and closed the short distance between them, steps assured yet tentative. It was clear he saw them as a threat.

The rain was dripping down Jane’s face, soaking through her undershirt once more. Ryder did not even react to the temperatures as he stoically stared into Grease-ball’s eyes, daring him to come even closer.

The thug seemed to sense this, and he raised his weapon incrementally. “Don’t be trying none of that football stuff again. My guys will shoot.”

Ryder appeared to actually consider it, though he stopped himself as he remembered Jane was right next to him. As of now, he was entirely at the thug’s mercy.

Grease-ball was patting Ryder down for weapons, muttering to himself about ungrateful children. Even in the damp air, Jane wrinkled her nose at his chemical-sweet smell.

Grease-ball straightened, assured in his own weapon-advantage. A dark vehicle pulled into the street, stopping behind the ring of thugs as they kept their weapons trained on the two teenagers.

Jane watched the approaching car with growing dread. Whatever it was doing there, it would not be pleasant.

The greasy haired thug grabbed Jane’s wrist as the door of the vehicle opened. He was pulling her towards it. “Get in. Both of ya’.”

Ryder shot her a look, the message unmistakable. We’re screwed if he gets us in there.

Another tug at her wrist, this time more violent. Grease-ball’s patience was growing short. Jane stumbled forward, tripping over her own feet.

“Hey, let go of her!” Ryder’s calm facade cracked as he lunged at the thug.

The pistol came against him in a flash of metal, barrel pressed against his chest.

“Ah-ah,” Grease-ball taunted, “careful there.”

Ryder’s breath was a hiss from between clenched teeth, his face set in a scowl of hatred. Every inch of his taut body seemed to scream for action, his very posture that of an agitated bull.

Jane couldn’t have someone take a bullet for her. Not again.

“It’s okay, Ryder,” she said. Of her own volition, she walked towards the waiting vehicle.

She’d read about things like this online. How, if you are kidnapped, the best time to escape is before they get you in a car. Once inside, your chances drop significantly.

“Move it,” Grease-ball said, prodding Ryder.

He had no choice. Reluctantly, he followed Jane across the road, the buzz of the street lamps seeming to laugh at their impending doom. No doubt, whatever his father had in store for them, it was not pleasant.

The asphalt scratched against the soles of his shoes as the greasy thug kept the pistol firmly jammed between his shoulder-blades, an ever-present threat, promising swift retribution if he did not comply. Jane turned at the mouth of the vehicle’s door, darkness within.

She spoke up. “Does your boss know that I have a script running, set to release all your info to the police if I don’t stop it?”

Ryder cursed internally. The last thing he wanted was for Jane to make herself the focus of their attention, even if her bluff was somewhat convincing.

And it very much was a bluff. The data was gone, and Jane did not have enough time to set anything up before they had been found, especially not something as complex as a blackmail failsafe like that.

The gun left Ryder’s back as Grease-ball moved around him, eyes fixed on Jane. “Whuss’at mean? Huh? You threatening me?”

Ryder could see the set in Jane’s shoulders, the way her feet shifted. She wanted to run. But instead, she stood her ground, doubling down on her bluff.

“Not just you. I’m threatening all of you,” she said, glancing around at the men surrounding them. They had relaxed somewhat, their weapons hanging loosely at their sides, watching the conversation unfold.

“You let us go, or your boss will have your head. You don’t wanna be the reason his entire empire is destroyed, right?” Jane continued. Her voice was shaking, as nonthreatening as one could sound, but the words had an effect all the same.

Grease-ball, gaze never moving from Jane, traded his pistol for a phone from his pocket.

This was the moment, Ryder realized. Undoubtedly, his father would order the thugs to kill them on the spot. They would get no second chances.

And so Ryder tried that football stuff again, and slipped both arms beneath Grease-ball’s shoulders, his hand unholstering the pistol before the man could react. Grease-ball growled, freezing in place, as Ryder pressed the barrel against his ribs.

There was a resounding chorus of metallic clicking as the other criminals raised their weapons, all trained on the pair. Ryder hugged Grease-ball close, shielding himself with his body. The men would not dare shoot, so long as one of their own was in the way. At least, that was what he was hoping.

Time was frozen, with only the quiet patter of rain breaking the silence. Jane could not move, utterly terrified of what one wrong twitch would set off.

And then the gunshots started.