The Last Time

Zoe's Point of View  

The sun seeped through the gaps in the curtain, invading the room with a soft light that forced me awake. My head was heavy, and my eyes took a while to adjust to the clarity. Words began to penetrate my consciousness slowly and hazily. I recognized Cole's thick voice, even though he was mumbling.  

"I don't owe anyone an explanation," he said with a tone of exasperation. "I just need a favor. I'm only asking because I really need it."  

There was a pause and a long heavy sigh, as if he were carrying the weight of the world. He continued, his voice full of determination and weariness. 

"I'll be leaving in a few hours, and I'll be there in four hours at the most." Another sigh followed by a growl of frustration. "All right, I'll let you know when I make a stop..." There was a space of silence again and then a growl from Cole that made me shudder. "And don't think that because I'm asking you, things have changed between us. I'm only doing this because it's more important than the shit I feel about you." 

He switched off his mobile phone with an irritated snap. I sat up slowly in bed, my head still throbbing slightly. Cole was sitting with his back to me on the end of my bed, his shoulders hunched in exhaustion. He looked so exhausted, and the sight of him holding his mobile phone against his ear so tightly made me feel a twinge of worry. 

Cole stood up with the movement and turned to face me. His intense eyes met mine, engulfing me with overwhelming force. I could never get used to the way he looked at me, as if I were the only important thing in the world. 

He smiled a smile that mixed relief and determination. "Let's get out of this hole, immediately." 

Surprise and confusion hit me at the same time. "What? Where are we going?" 

He came over and sat next to me on the bed, his eyes scanning my face with a concern that warmed and confused me at the same time. 

Cole placed the back of his hand on my forehead, checking to see if I had a fever. Ignoring my question, he asked me: 

"How are you?" 

It was a recurring question he asked me, and his concern always seemed very genuine. At the same time, I couldn't understand why he was so invested in looking after me, a stranger he found on the brink of death. Who does that? Who saves a stranger and puts their own life on hold to look after her? 

"Cole, what's going on?" I asked, ignoring his question too. 

He let out a long sigh and took my hands in his. His touch was familiar now, and unlike the first few times, I didn't pull away.  

"You scared the hell out of me in the early hours of the morning. Your fever was sky-high, and I had to put you in the bath with ice to bring your temperature down," he said, his voice trembling with worry. 

I didn't remember much about that night, but when he told me in detail everything he had done and by the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, I could tell how serious the situation had been. 

"I feel much better now," I replied, trying to ease his worry. "Whatever you did, or the receptionist put in the tea, it worked." 

He forced a smile, visibly relieved.  

"Good, because we'll be spending a few hours in the car, and we won't have a bath or tea nearby." 

This made me let out a snort, almost a laugh, but I was soon serious again when our sudden and mysterious journey came back into focus.  

"Where are we going, Cole? I know we're not going to Alabama? I heard you on the phone and, as far as I know, it doesn't take four hours to get there." 

He looked away, clearly uncomfortable. He got out of bed and began to collect some clothes, stuffing them into a rucksack.  

"We're going to Portland," he said begrudgingly, his voice carrying a brusque tone. "An acquaintance of mine is going to give us shelter until you get better." 

He didn't give me any further information, which made me even more uneasy. "Why Portland? Who is this acquaintance?" 

Cole paused for a moment, facing me again.  

"She's someone who owes me a favor." 

I knew I could trust him to a certain extent. He has done more for me in a few days than many people in my entire life. But following someone blindly has never ended well in my experience. My mum had done it, and the result was her death and her attempt to kill me. 

He let out a sigh and explained when he realized that this information wouldn't be enough for me. 

"She's an acquaintance who owes me a favor. She's going to shelter us until you get better... Now, I'm going to take a shower. You should eat some," he said, pointing to the table where there were paper bags of food. "We'll leave in the next hour." 

Cole went into the bathroom, closing the door with a loud slam that made it clear how unhappy he was with this situation. I sat up in bed, feeling a mixture of relief and worry. Who was this acquaintance? An ex-girlfriend? How would she react to Cole arriving with a random girl, bruised and terribly ill? Was he asking for help from this person he clearly wasn't happy to see because of me? Why would he do that to someone he doesn't even know properly?  

I sighed and stood up slowly, walking over to the table and opening one of the bags. The aroma of the food was comforting, and although my appetite was still weak, I knew I needed to eat. As I chewed slowly, my mind wandered, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. Cole was trying so hard for me, and I couldn't help but wonder why. What did he see in me that made him want to look after me so desperately? 

I finished eating and looked around the room. The peeling walls and worn floor didn't offer any sense of home, but I knew that soon we would finally leave all this behind. Cole was right about one thing: we needed to get out of there. And as many questions as I had, I knew that going with him was the best option I had. 

At least for now. 

After forty minutes, Cole and I were leaving the motel room. He led the way, carrying his rucksack, while I followed a little shakily, still weak. My mind was filled with doubts as to how I could endure four hours on the road on a motorbike, considering the state of my ribs. Even with the medication and the bandage, the pain was still constant. 

When we got to the car park, instead of going on his bike, Cole pulled up next to a car. I looked at him, confused. "Where did you get this car?" I asked. 

He just gave me a look, opened the passenger door, and said: "Get in." 

I obeyed almost automatically, feeling that my body desperately needed a rest. Besides, there was something about Cole's manner that made me follow his orders without hesitation, even if it bothered me. 

Sitting in the car seat, I watched as Cole leaned over to put on my seatbelt. His closeness made my heart race. His breath mingled with mine, and I held my breath, hypnotized by his stormy blue eyes. 

I heard the click of the seatbelt, but Cole didn't move away immediately. His hand came up to push aside the loose strands of my hair, tucking them gently behind my ear. He smiled a small but sincere smile. "You're beautiful," he murmured, catching me completely off guard. 

Before I could reply, he pulled away as easily as he had approached. "I stole it," he said, closing the door softly. 

I blinked, trying to process his words. "What did you steal?" 

Cole smiled again, that beautiful, light smile. "The car," he replied, closing the door and running around the vehicle to get into the driver's side. 

"What?" I exclaimed, completely shocked. 

He got into the car, put on his seatbelt, and started the vehicle by fiddling with the wires under the steering wheel. The engine rumbled, and soon we were driving out of the motel car park. 

"Are you serious?" I asked, incredulous. "You stole a car?" 

Cole laughed at my reaction. "Relax, Zoe. It's not the first time I've done that. And I assure you, we won't get caught." 

I was on the verge of an outburst. "If we get arrested, he will find me! This is crazy, Cole!" 

He just shook his head, still laughing. "Calm down, everything's going to be fine. I know what I'm doing." 

His words didn't reassure me. The idea of being in a stolen car, fleeing to an uncertain destination, was too frightening. My mind spun with scenarios of us being arrested, me being taken back to Seattle, maybe even killed. 

"You're crazy," I muttered, half to myself. 

"Maybe a little," he replied, his tone more serious. "But I'd rather be crazy than leave you in the hands of that bastard." 

"When did you do this?" I asked, trying to process the situation. 

"In the early hours," he replied good-naturedly. "It's easier to find a car and steal it when it's quieter." 

"What about your motorbike?" I asked, still stunned by the idea that he had simply left behind what seemed to be his most valuable possession. 

Cole shrugged. "I left it for the receptionist." 

His words carried a weight that silenced my indignation. Even with all the madness, Cole was doing it to protect me. I didn't fully understand his motives, but his dedication was undeniable. 

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, letting the constant sound of the engine and Cole's reassuring presence calm me down, at least for the time being. 

I woke up to a light touch on my arm. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the sunlight coming through the open car door. Cole was crouched beside me, a worried smile on his face. 

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said softly. "We need to make a stop. You need to go to the bathroom, and we're going to get something to eat. This will be our only stop." 

I nodded, still a little groggy. My head was heavy, and my body still felt weak. I got out of the car with his help, and we drove to the roadside diner. The smell of grease and fried food was comforting, and I realized I was starving. 

We both used the toilets and then ordered x-burgers and fries. We got back in the car, and he soon took the wheel again, while I unwrapped the sandwiches.  

"Let's eat on the way," he said, starting the car and pulling back onto the road. 

I started eating my sandwich, savoring every bite. It was really delicious. I noticed that Cole was just driving and looking at the road. I picked up a chip and took it into his mouth. He took a bite, smiling sideways. 

"Thanks," he mumbled. 

The scene repeated itself several times. I fed Cole while he kept his eyes on the road. Sometimes he would lean a little to the side to bite into the sandwich I was holding out for him. It was a strangely intimate situation, but also relaxing. For the first time in days, I felt relatively normal. 

We chatted about light subjects, trying to avoid the darkness that had hung over us since we met. We laughed about little things, like the fact that I couldn't tell the difference between ranch dressing and garlic sauce, and he made fun of how I always got confused. 

At one point, Cole was even telling me stories about when he was a kid in Alabama.  

"So, I must have been about eight years old," he began, with a nostalgic smile. "My dad had this mechanic's shop and I always stayed there after school. One day, I decided I was going to 'help' him, but I ended up spilling a whole can of oil on myself. I got so slippery that nobody could hold me down. My dad had to wash me off with a garden hose outside, and the customers couldn't stop laughing." 

I laughed, imagining the scene of little Cole all covered in oil. "You must have given your father a hard time." 

"You have no idea," he said, laughing along with me. "But he always said those were the best times. Even when I made a mess, he loved it." 

Our laughter subsided into silent smiles. His childhood stories were a reminder that there was a normal life outside this madness. Feeling the warmth of the sun coming through the car window, mixed with the cool breeze, almost made me forget about our situation for a moment. 

Cole looked at me, his expression softening. 

"I'm glad to hear you laugh and that you're feeling better." He paused for a moment, his expression tightening a little. "You'll feel better when we get there... In Portland, you'll be fully recovered, and we can finally get a long way from your past." 

I bit my lower lip, shifting restlessly in my seat. There was something in his tone that intrigued me that, even though he was happy that we weren't in Seattle anymore, he didn't like the idea of Portland very much either and that, at the first chance, we'd hit the road again, hopefully to Alabama, where his family was. 

Silence filled the car for a moment, but Cole realized my unease. 

"What's going on, Zoe? You can ask me anything." 

I looked at him for a moment, hesitating.  

"I'm a bit apprehensive about going where we're going. I think the person who owns the house might not like you being with me... She might not understand the kind of relationship we have and..." 

Cole frowned, clearly confused, cutting me off before I'd even finished speaking.  

"Why wouldn't my mum want you with me?" 

My expression was one of pure surprise. I really hadn't imagined that he was talking to his mum on the phone. 

"You called your mum an acquaintance?" 

Cole sighed, his mood visibly souring. To say that it sounded like he didn't have a good relationship with his mum was an understatement.  

"She's an acquaintance. One day she was my mum, but now she's just someone I used to know. We're staying with her because we couldn't stay in that motel anymore, that's all," he said abruptly, his good humor really going into overdrive and him shutting down completely