#v||deadly devotions

“’Aiden Fawkes’...? Sounds an awful lot like ‘fuck’.” Jackson poked. “...But, ah, could be just me.”

The desert rays heated up the busted DeLorean like an instant meal in a microwave. Beads of sweat and other liquids poured from driver.  Red bleed from the driver’s clothes to his seat and clung to his hands clenching the wheel. The stuffy air prompted him to crack a window.

A gushing sigh pushed out of his lips. How long has it been now since he woke up? He wasn’t too sure. But to take a deep breathe after this last battle rattled him. Jack hadn’t had minute to properly grieve, properly think, properly... eat. He had to find a place to crash fast. Jacket was comfortably far from Miami now so anything would do.

He drove on faster, hoping to push the thoughts away in the wind. The sky went from yellow to orange and finally a pinkish hue. Against the sunset and from the mirages emerged several small blocks. Jack squinted before it registered in his mind that it was a truck stop. The word “Motel” flickered above. 

Perfect.

Pulling over, he first booked a place at the motel. The receptionist eyed the red liquid on Jack suspiciously, but continued to toss him his keys and direct Jacket to the room. Jacket made himself a quick shower and scurried over to the corner store for a quick snack.