Of course, Aurora's luck never played out the way she hoped. The sun was going down on the smooth horizon, casting vibrant purple and pink hues over the darkening dunes, when her car engine emitted a sputtering growl. She eased off the accelerator, eyeing the RPM display. In her haste to flee the east coast, she'd forgotten to take the impala in for a tune up.

"Crap." She grumbled, slowing into a lower gear. The engine clanked and surged before it resumed the low, constant rumble she was accustomed to.

"When's the last time you serviced this old piece of-" Jaxon began, stretching his long limbs awkwardly as he stirred. She hadn't noticed he was waking and cursed herself for becoming distracted. Normally she wasn't so airheaded, but the past has a way of coming back to haunt, and in her case, it was in the form of thoughts.

"Don't finish that sentence." Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she whipped her head to glare at him. "This is a fine, precise machine. Don't insult it."

Jax raised a thick brow, mouth working as he held back a smile. "Yeah, maybe back in the seventies. Who's your mechanic?"

"I do the repairs myself." She mumbled, training her ears to listen to the hum of the machine.

"That's why it sounds like a sick cat. Do you even know how to work on a classic car?" His tone was condescending.

Aurora scoffed and pointed to the glove box. He leaned forward and pulled it open, a large, thick manual popping out.

"I restored this car." She offered, despite her previous statement that they wouldn't get to know each other. She shouldn't be offering him any information about herself, but the small talk was better than awkward silence, any day of the week. "It was my dad's." The admission brought back a flood of memories she'd forgotten, stowed away deep in the recesses of her heart.

She struggled to hold back a tear, until Carter opened his mouth, chasing the memory back into the recesses from which it emerged.

"Well, you're not a total loss." Jaxon teased, flipping the book open to the engine section, eyeing a diagram of the block appreciatively.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She blurted, defensively.

"You're pretty, but you're too smart to be taken seriously." Jax glanced at her as he read, cheeks twitching in amusement. "Guys like stupid girls, unless they know shit about cars. So, that's a couple more points on the fuckable spectrum, if you know what I mean."

Aurora slammed on the brakes, sending him flying into the dash, a sickening crack echoing in the car where his head smacked against the plastic.

"What the fuck was that for?" He growled, rubbing his head. His eyes were off kilter, unfocused from the impact, and a pang of regret surged through her. She hadn't meant to actually hurt him, but his comment was so offensive she couldn't control her immediate reaction.

"You." Her tone was clipped, guarded, and she had no intention of letting him reduce her to mere parts. "That was the most sexist, incredibly chauvinistic thing I've ever heard."

"I'm being honest." He glared up at her, a trickle of blood running down his nose. "You didn't have to break my face to tell me you didn't like it."

A jolt of sympathy rushed through her. The feeling was uncomfortable, something she didn't often experience. "Sorry," she murmured, easing the car off to the shoulder and putting it in park "but you expect me to sit here and take that?"

"How would I know? We just met." He pointed out. It was a good argument; she couldn't deny that. However, seeing how she'd offered him a ride after he'd held her hostage for one, he should show a little more tact and respect toward his savior.

"Touché." She unbuckled, hastily grabbing a handful of napkins from the glove compartment, dabbing the cut above his left eye.

"Easy!" He yelped, jerking away. Her slim fingers grasped his strong chin and she forced it into place, finishing tending to his wound.

"There, that's better. I don't need you bleeding all over my leather." Her tone was firm, but apologetic, and he nodded with unspoken understanding.

"You'd look good in leather." His lips pulled in a flirtatious grin, his fingers fluttering up her bare arm flirtatiously.

"God, that's what I'm talking about!" Aurora dropped the tissues on his substantial lap, rubbing the feeling of his fingertips off her skin. "You're disgusting."

"Yeah, but at least I'm not a frigid bitch." He pointed out, crossing his arms at the rejection. "I get some, which is more than I can say for you."

"I get plenty." She growled, shock rippling through her at the blatant lie. She didn't know why she felt the need to prove him wrong; he just elicited that kind of response from her. She shouldn't care since she planned to kick him to the curb at the next stop. For some reason she found his company, however detestable, comforting in a sick, demented, desperate way. Perhaps it was because he didn't know her, know what she'd been accused of, the images that plagued her dreams at night. The demons that haunted her weren't visible to him; their interaction was based solely on their perceived preconceptions about each other. It was a relief to talk to someone without them harassing her about the suicide: the suicide that might have been a cover up for murder. The death that shocked the city, threw it into a state of absolute panic, fueling a cop hating crusade that affected every uniform donned individual within the county.

His blue eyes scrutinized her so long she began to feel an uneasy shiver creep up her spine. "You're so uptight, I don't believe that in the least. When's the last time you went heels up?"

"Pardon me?" She blinked, completely confused. "What does that mean?"

An exasperated look of disbelief crossed his golden features. He leaned toward her, placing a warm palm on her knee. "You've never heard that before? Hmmm." He feigned stupidity, pretending to search for another definition, rubbing his chin in a mocking gesture. "Bump uglies? Shake the trailer?"

"I'm not a hillbilly, so no, I have no idea what you mean, Jaxon." He did fit the bill, with his telltale flannel, bootcut jeans and cowboy boots. Why he donned a ballcap instead of a ten gallon, she didn't know, because the rest of him screamed backwoods Texan. He even had a slight drawl to his voice when he spoke, and she hated to admit she found it kind of sexy. She would never tell him that, though. It would go right to his overly inflated, hormone driven pig head.

"Okay, what about hanky panky? Making whoopee? You know what that is, right? Or are you that sexually deprived?"

"Mind your own business." She growled, blushing profusely as she eased the car back onto the highway, the tires bumping over the unkempt cracks in the asphalt as she sped up, eager to reach her destination and get rid of the straggler who was quickly making himself unwanted.

"It is my business , now. I could fix that sexual tension problem for you, you know." He winked a large, blue eye as she rushed the car down the empty road.

"In your dreams, playboy." Aurora hissed, turning up the heat in the car. As night fell, the desert grew colder, and she didn't want any unplanned nipping to set him off more than he already was.

"Your loss." He shrugged, tugging the cap back down over his eyes again and snuggling back into the leather of his seat. "You'll regret it, though."

"I regret you stowing away in my trunk and coercing me into giving you a ride." Aurora pointed out, the sky now twinkling with thousands of stars. It took her breath away. The city lights she was used to drowned out all the natural beauty of the world: the smog of the cars tainted the air, the noise of the people drowned out the calming silence she so desperately needed to hear.

In the emptiness of the Arizona landscape, the sky seemed like heaven, an undisturbed, peaceful escape from the destruction of mankind.

After a moment, Jaxon spoke up huskily from the passenger seat, clearly on the vestiges of sleep. "I can look at that engine for you, when we get to the next town."

Aurora parted her lips to retort, then thought better of it. She was self-sufficient most of the time, but now, on the run, she could probably use all the help she could get, and would be stupid not to accept it, even from an ass like Jaxon Carter.

A small, reluctant "thank you" escaped her lips, and he replied with a complacent smile.

"Of course, I might need help paying for a motel room." He replied, smirking slightly, and she sighed. Clearly, she couldn't get rid of him as easily as she'd hoped. He was playing on her natural tendency to offer aid to those less fortunate, and as deep in shit as she was, he appeared to be drowning in an even larger dung heap than she.

How ironically fitting, she thought as the tires propelled them closer to the dim lighting of the town in the distance, I found a greater charity case than myself.