After two days of the uncertainty and stress of being on the run, all I wanted to do was lounge around in Jake's hoodie on a nice, cushy king-sized bed and never get up again. The wall-mounted television was on, but it was just noise that I wasn't really listening to. I had relocated to one of the spare rooms of the penthouse, one in which I had a clear view of the home office across the hall, where Jake sat working at the desk. I had no idea what he was doing, but it must've been serious because not only had he gotten fully dressed, but he pulled his hood over his head and put his earphones in to focus. I had to admit I was watching him more than the television because he was so intense. It made me wonder what he was getting up to, but I didn't want to bother him, so I never asked. Occasionally he would glance at me and catch me staring. I'd blush and look back at the television. He smiled and went back to concentrating on his work.

An advertisement for the evening news suddenly caught my attention. It brought up the two international fugitives that held up the local prison while promising updates to the investigation at 6 o'clock, which I found curious as we haven't moved since last night. However, the advertisment had an updated wanted photo of me, which was obviously taken from the prison when I signed in for the hearing. This concerned me - my short, black hair was no longer going to work. I'd have to make use of my new wig, but would that be enough? What else could I do to change my appearance? Using a different makeup style, even going goth would probably confuse the casual observer. Would that be enough? Jake had it easy with that lousy police sketch and for that I was a bit jealous, but at the same time, having a license to experiment and not caring what anyone else thought for once had its own allure. It almost felt like I was a kid again, playing with my appearance to pretend to be someone else.

As soon as the next commercial started, I checked my phone again to see if there was any word from Lilly about Richy's parole, but there was still nothing. I closed my eyes and let the scene replay again in my head. There was something about the way Richy looked at me that I just couldn't put my finger on. The twisted man had done everything to Amy, Hannah Jessy, and me so selfishly just to remove his own guilt. Yet the man I saw the day before was so different. He was vulnerable, exposed, beaten, tortured, and even humbled - as if he had already punished himself to the fullest extent. I started to have second thoughts. Maybe it wasn't a lie. Maybe he was honestly remorseful. Maybe it was time to forgive him and move on. It wasn't his fault that Hannah received the time she was given. It was out of his control, even if he did testify against her. It wasn't like he would ever be able to forget the wrongs he had committed. He had to carry that weight wherever he went. Find a place where he would be accepted would be a struggle and maybe that was enough. Maybe it was time to let it go.

I opened my eyes and found Jake standing over the bed watching me. I subconsciously averted my eyes.

"Is something bothering you?" He questioned.

"Ah no, I was just resting my eyes," I lied. I couldn't bear to admit I was considering accepting Richy's remorse.

"You keep checking your phone," he commented. "It is stressing you out and it's definitely stressing me out."

"I was just wondering if there had been any updates regarding Richy," I explained.

"Lilly will let us know when it is time. Checking your phone will do nothing to hasten the outcome," he frowned. "You're not reconsidering your stance, are you? I saw his pathetic pleas as well."

"No, of course not," I lied again. "He is guilty of far more than what he was convicted of. He should see out his time."

Jake said nothing and just stared at me for a bit. I felt like he was trying to determine whether I was lying or not, which made me uncomfortable. I squeezed my hand to try to keep myself from faltering.

"Then let's get your mind off of it," he smiled. "Go get dressed. I have arranged for you to meet with my tattoo artist."

"Oh, I had forgotten," I was caught off guard.

"You forgot?" His eyes widened.

"Yeah, with everything going on, it slipped my mind," I responded honestly as I sat up. "It's fine, I still want to do it of course."

"Good," he nodded a bit apprehensively. "Let me know when you're ready to leave."

"But I thought you didn't want us going in and out too much?" I asked.

"I don't want us coming and going carelessly. This is important though. We don't know if we'll get another chance," he answered rather morbidly and started to walk away. He paused and turned back, "Well it is important to me. Clearly not to you."

"Jake!" I stood up aghast. "It is important, ok? It's been very hectic! I was really enjoying not worrying about anything for a change. You know, for a while there, it was just us and the rest of the world disappeared."

"Then you checked your phone to see if there was an update about another man," he gritted his teeth.

"Oh, wow, and here I thought you cared about his parole too," I narrowed my eyes.

"Let me worry about him. He doesn't deserve your concern," Jake shook his head and walked off.

I stood there flabbergasted for a while, then turned off the TV and went back to the master bedroom to get dressed for going out. I didn't really understand him. Why was he bringing this back up so suddenly out of the blue? What was his rush? He mentioned it was the same tattoo artist that did his dragon tattoo. Did that mean he was in Colville back then? Maybe he wanted to make sure it was done by someone he trusted, and he wasn't sure how long we'd be able to stay in Colville. That had to be it.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I slipped my new wig on. It was a bit of a mess after everything that happened, so it needed some fixing up. Looking at my limited makeup supply I did what I could to change up my usual style. It wasn't as big of a change that I wanted, but it would have to do until I could get my hands on more.

After I finished getting ready, I went back to the office where Jake was still working. "Strange, crazy question - How are we getting there? I mean with everything that happened, maybe we shouldn't walk the streets or ride the bus."

"I was considering taking the Maserati," Jake responded nonchalantly as he turned the computer monitor to show me the CCTV of the apartment building's parking garage. Sure enough, there was a Maserati parked down there.

"You're not serious," I frowned. "That's got to be impossible to steal."

"For an amateur, sure," he grinned.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. "Even if I believe you, and you can hack the security on that thing, it's not really, you know, low key, is it?"

Jake's expression soured, "You're ruining my fun."

"Maybe next time?" I offered with a smile.

"Fine, but I'm taking the Roadster," he insisted.

"Why? For all of that top-down driving we're going to do?" I laughed. "Actually, that would be a terrible idea with my wig. Don't do it. Why can't we just take that Fiat?"

"You can't be fucking serious," Jake looked at me like I had three heads.

"Low key, Jake!" I pushed.

"Garage of fucking expensive cars and you want me to steal a Fiat 500!?" He exclaimed. "You're so lucky you're cute."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He stood up from the desk and walked over quickly to me. Defensively I retracted my tongue.

"Go on, stick it back out," he teased. "What's the matter? Not so brave now, are you?"

I stuck my tongue back apprehensively. He leant down and held it between his teeth while looking deep into my eyes. I could feel my willpower draining under his gaze. He released my tongue and sucked it lovingly in what then became a passionate and heated kiss.

"We should go before we get too distracted," I said sheepishly.

"Yes, I need to go steal a Fiat 500 for you," he mocked.

"You do like to impress," I teased.

Jake slapped my butt, then led the way out the apartment door to the elevator. As soon as we got into the lift, he grabbed me and pinned me against the wall for an intense make out session, blocking me from the security camera's view. When other people got on, he shifted to ensure they couldn't see me. If they became too curious, he tickled my side to make me squeal and the strangers averted their eyes.

As soon as we reached the ground floor, we got out. Jake held my hand as we walked to the front doors, outside of which the valet's booth was set up. Jake asked me to distract the poor teenager working it that day. Not really having any creativity on the matter, I did the very thing I used to groan about in movies - I picked up a pen I noticed on the ground, went outside and pretended to fall near the valet station.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" The teenager came over to help me.

Ma'am!? He was lucky I was putting on an act or else I would've given him a mouthful, "Oh, I'm so clumsy! I completely missed that step. Ah! My favourite pen! Where is it!? I simply must find it! My late grandmother gave me that pen!"

"What does it look like?" The teen asked as he looked around.

"It is long... narrow... with a cap...," I tried to drag it out as long as possible.

"And says 'Get lucky at Lucky's Casino and Bar?'" The teen read out the side of the pen to me.

"That's the one!" I replied cheerfully. "My grandmother got a royal flush with that pen in her pocket, she did!"

"Oh, wow!" The teen responded impressed and handed it back to me. "Better not lose it then!"

We stood back up and I brushed myself off, "Yes, I won 200 in the lottery when I used it to fill out the form."

"That is lucky," the teen started to back away from the conversation.

"Hey, there you are," Jake walked up and put a hand on my shoulder to cut in. "I looked everywhere for the ticket, but I couldn't find it, love. Hey, you're the valet attendant, right? So sorry, I lost the ticket, but I remember the number. It was 51. For a white Fiat. And, uh, our keychain has a small silver panda on it, which is ridiculous since it's not a Panda, it's a 500, but that's my girlfriend for you. Could you get the car for us?"

"Oh, it's a bit of a problem if you lost the ticket," the teen answered nervously. "Do you know the plate number?"

"BE1337," Jake added. "One I'll never forget."

"Yeah, that should be ok," the teen nodded feeling a bit unsure of himself. "I'll bring your car around right away, sir. Try not to lose the ticket again, though. My manager really hates it when people don't bring their tickets back."

"Thank you," Jake smiled.

As we watched the gullible teen walk off, I whispered to Jake, "It's scary how easily you fool people."

Jake scoffed, "Just think, I could have taken the Maserati."