Have you ever experienced that paralyzing feeling like you can't move fast enough when you're terrified? It's like you're involuntarily moving in slow motion and you're screaming at yourself to hurry up, but you can't seem to run any faster. Your heart is racing faster than you are, and all the sights and sounds around you start to fade into one big blur, in which you can't decipher what the hell is even going on around you. All you can think about is that you're not going to get away fast enough, and whatever or whoever is chasing you is going to catch you. I'd been through that one too many times in my young life. I hadn't intended to go through it again this soon. But that's exactly how I felt, panting as I tried to run down the stairs, carrying my overnight bag that suddenly felt like it had been stuffed with bricks. The adrenaline flowing through my body was making me dizzy and I knew a migraine was on the horizon. I knew that the longer it took us to leave Joey's house, the bigger the risk was of that man in the Cadillac returning and potentially capturing or killing us.

It only took us about five minutes to grab what we needed and head for the door, but five minutes easily felt like five hours. Joey changed clothes in a matter of seconds, already in jeans and a casual tee by the time I had reached the bottom of the stairs with my bag. He hurriedly rolled his uniform into a big ball and tossed it in a duffel bag, making sure not to include his radio or anything electronic he would normally wear with his uniform that could possibly pinpoint his location.

I watched with wide eyes as Joey unlocked the closet door to reveal it wasn't even a closet. He'd turned the tiny room into a gun safe. There had to be between twenty and thirty guns inside, along with two machetes and a ka-bar that looked like it could scare off the devil himself. Joey quickly placed eleven pistols in his bag, followed by about a dozen small ammo boxes. He slid another pistol into his waistband under the back of his shirt and threw on a jacket, concealing the ka-bar that I was heavily intimidated by in the front of it.

I followed Joey to another room where he opened a drawer that held several cell phones. I was convinced he'd been prepared for the apocalypse. What else could he possibly have all this stuff for? He grabbed four phones, sliding one into his back pocket and putting the other three in his bag.

"You still got the burner I gave you earlier?" He made sure, earning a nod from me.

The burner phone was in my hip pocket.

Joey slung his bag over his shoulder and motioned for me to follow him. My nerves were zapping with electricity as I itched to get out of the house. Every second longer that we were there felt like a second closer to something bad to happening.

We jogged across the front yard to the silver BMW. I was scanning the entire street, hoping and praying that the Cadillac didn't come back around the corner while we were in the driveway. Joey grabbed my bag from my hand, throwing it into the trunk along with his, and motioning for me to get in the car. I wondered how in the hell he could carry such a heavy duffel like there was nothing in it. I felt an ounce safer once we were both finally inside the vehicle.

Joey slammed the accelerator so hard, my body lurched backward. I felt like a magnetic pull had my back glued to the seat. When I looked over at him, I couldn't believe he looked so calm. Being a police officer had obviously given him enough experience with traumatic situations that he had no trouble keeping his cool. He had a determined look in his eyes and I could see the pumping pulse in his neck, but he didn't look one bit intimidated. Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to keep my wits about myself, but my heart was pounding in my ears and I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hide until the danger subsided.

Joey hadn't driven very far when we parked in front of a small, run down duplex a few miles from his house.

"What are you doing?" I asked, scanning the neighborhood for anything that looked suspicious.

Joey opened his door, glancing up and down the street before getting out. "We're switching vehicles. Get your shit. Let's go."

I hesitated, trying to process what was happening. Joey snapped his fingers to get my attention. His impatient stare told me to hurry up and move my ass.

I hopped out of the car and barely caught my bag when Joey threw it to me. He'd already gathered his duffel from the trunk. I followed him up the driveway where he skillfully raised the heavy garage door by hand, making it look easy. I couldn't help noticing how manly that looked, but quickly shook the thought away. This was no time for admiring his muscle.

Inside the garage sat a charcoal colored mesh-top convertible. Joey grabbed my bag from my hand, tossing our belongings in the backseat and reaching through the open driver's side window to grab a set of car keys. We climbed inside and he hit the gas before I could even shut my door. We sped off in the direction of the highway.

"Who's car is this?" I finally asked several miles down the road.

I couldn't believe he'd just stolen some random person's car. What if they called the police and there were cops out searching for the vehicle?

Joey floored the gas pedal to merge onto the interstate, staring in the driver's side mirror as he cut off an F-150.

"Belongs to a buddy of mine. I called him on the way back home," he explained. "He used to be on the force. We worked together for about a year and then he decided he wanted to become a private investigator. He left the department, but we still keep in touch."

I was relieved to hear that the car's owner was apparently aware of us taking it. The last thing we needed was the police looking for a stolen vehicle.

"Where are we going?" I frowned.

Joey didn't look at me. He continued to stare straight ahead, weaving his way in and out of traffic, zipping between the other vehicles. I watched the road signs as we took an exit onto I-90 toward Springfield. If we continued all the way through Massachusetts on this interstate, the next big cities were Albany and New York City.

I tried to get his attention again. I needed to know where he was taking me.

"Joey."

"You're not going to repeat this to anyone." He finally looked at me with eyes serious as a heart attack. "Promise me you'll keep your mouth shut, Jessica."

Who could I possibly tell? I wasn't allowed to contact anyone. My only source of communication was the brooding man next to me.

I scowled, but resisted the urge to snap at him. "I won't say anything."

He didn't look satisfied with my answer, but he didn't press me any further about it. He sighed, adjusting his navy ball cap. "We're heading west. How far west, I don't know yet. We'll play it by ear."

West? As in Nebraska-west? California-west? The west side of New York State? I needed a less vague answer. Why couldn't we stay in the Northeast? What was wrong with stopping in Springfield? We could find an unsuspicious-looking motel and wait it out until the police could put a stop to this. That sounded much better to me than "west."

I started to think about my job and how I might not get to graduate because I wouldn't be in Boston to take the rest of my finals. I thought about my grandmother who called every day at four to check on me and chat about our days. What would she think? She'd probably go over to my apartment and when I didn't answer the door, she'd call the police and report me missing.

"Joey, how long are we going to be gone?" I pressed. "I've got finals and my grandma's going to be worried sick. My boss has probably called me twenty times to find out why I'm not at work."

Joey shook his head, turning the radio volume up to drown me out. "I don't know, Jessica."

All that did was piss me off. What right did he have to take me away from my life and then keep me in the dark about his plans? I'd forced myself to trust this man because I felt like I had no other option. The least he could do was keep me in the fucking loop!

"You can't just expect me to disappear and everything be fine!" I snapped, turning my body to face him. "I have responsibilities! I have a fucking life! I have-"

"You might not have anything right now if I hadn't taken you with me!" Joey shouted. "The fact that those bastards were at my house tells me they know a lot more than we think they do! They obviously know you're with me, so we've got to stay at least one step ahead of them. I'm sorry you're not getting to enjoy serving low fat mocha frappes to your classmates right now, but I'm more concerned about you living to see the next fucking cup of coffee! Got it?"

I was so dumbstruck by Joey's outburst that I couldn't muster a response. I felt tears welling up but I refused to cry in front of him. I wouldn't give another man the satisfaction of seeing me cry at his words. I also didn't want to show weakness around Joey. I didn't need him thinking I was going to be a wuss about everything. He knew I was terrified, though, and in the back of my mind, I couldn't help wondering if he was scared, too. He'd acted so calm and collected so far. I knew he felt threatened, by the hardness in his eyes. I wondered if he really felt as strong and unfazed as he tried to act.

At some point during the car ride, I fell asleep and was plagued by nightmares of the man in the black Cadillac and him. I woke up in the middle of the night, startled by the sound of Joey slamming the car door.

We'd stopped at a gas station. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying to get a look at our surroundings. I watched Joey in the side mirror, texting someone while he refilled the tank. He hadn't noticed I'd awakened yet. He looked exhausted. My first thought was to ask if I could take over driving for him. Then I remembered I had no clue where we were headed or if he intended to find a hotel for the night. I didn't even know what state we were in.

I reached in my back pocket where the burner phone was still tucked away. The brightness from the screen made my eyes hurt as I opened the Maps app to determine our location. We were in a small town about thirty minutes west of Cleveland, Ohio, and it was almost one in the morning.

Joey reentering the vehicle startled me and I dropped the phone into my lap. I was so tired; my adrenaline was the only thing keeping me from passing back out. It felt like I'd been doing espresso shots all night.

"You alright?"

Joey looked at me with caring eyes I hadn't yet seen from him. Somehow that made me feel better. It was a complete personality flip from the last time he'd spoken to me.

I wanted to ask him who he'd been texting, but I got the feeling that wasn't something I should press him on just yet. I tried to shake off the nagging angst and nodded to him but he wasn't buying it. Joey leaned closer to me, resting his arm on the console, and gave my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. I managed a small smile and waited for him to tell me what our next move was.

"Do you want anything?" he asked, thumbing toward the convenience store. "I can get you some coffee or an energy drink, if you want."

As tired as I was, I could probably use some caffeine. I was more interested in using the bathroom, though.

"I really have to pee," I said bluntly, earning a brief chuckle from Joey as he got out of the car again.

We walked side by side into the store. Joey insisted on it. I was getting paranoid, worrying that someone might come up behind me, so I stayed closer to him than necessary and constantly looked over my shoulder until we were inside. I made a beeline for the restroom while he went to get us drinks.

I tried to finish up in the bathroom as quickly as possible, half expecting the man in the Cadillac to bust through the door any second. I almost wished Joey had gone in the bathroom with me just to make sure I was safe. I didn't even care that it would be an invasion of privacy.

Once finished, I made my way to where Joey was standing at the checkout counter, scanning the store for anyone who looked up to no good. I watched the cashier, a gothic-looking teenage girl, count out the change in what felt like slow motion. In my head, I screamed at her to hurry up. The faster we got out of there, the further away we could get from anyone who might be following us.

"Have a nice night," Joey mumbled to the girl as he wadded up the cash she'd handed him and shoved it in his jeans pocket.

We walked back to the car but before I could open the door to get in, Joey stopped me, taking the time to scan the backseat and then gesturing for me to climb in.

"Making sure no one's with us," he muttered.

I was thrilled to see two bags of chips, two sandwiches, and two sodas when Joey set the plastic sack in my lap. I hadn't realized I was so hungry until I spotted food.

"Which ones are yours?" I asked.

There were two different kinds of sandwiches and chips. The sodas were the same, though. He'd guessed on what I liked and bought us both Mountain Dew.

"Doesn't matter," Joey shrugged. "I'll eat either. Take what you want."

I decided on the egg salad sandwich with sour cream and onion chips. Usually, I avoided chips like the plague. I tried to be healthy about my food intake. But I was starving and I couldn't care less that I was pigging out on gas station junk food.

Joey drove the rest of the night. By the time we saw the Chicago skyline off in the distance, it was just after six. The sun cast a gorgeous orange glow over the skyscrapers as we drove passed downtown. I'd never been to Chicago, and though I wished it was under better circumstances, I was pretty psyched to see the city in person.

"I lived here for a year during college," Joey's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I asked if he was from Chicago and he shook his head.

"I grew up in Providence. When I turned eighteen, I wanted to go to college somewhere away from the east coast. I ended up at the University of Illinois."

"Why only a year?" I frowned, admiring the architectural design of the Willis Tower.

He took his hat off, running a hand through his hair with a yawn. He had to be miserable, as sleepy as he looked. His eyes were bloodshot. I wondered how much longer he was going to push himself to drive.

"I was going to study business, get a BSBA, that sort of thing," he sighed. "I figured out in my second semester that I was only doing that because it was what everyone else thought I should do. I didn't really want to do business. If I was going to study anything, I wanted to study history. That didn't sound promising, though. I guess I just decided college wasn't for me. I traveled for a semester and then moved to Boston and went to community college just to have enough on my resume to do something with my life. Then I got a wild hair up my ass and joined the police force."

I wondered what his family thought when he decided to do that. I couldn't imagine not finishing my degree. My grandmother would have a cow if I ever even considered that. She was determined to help me overcome my past and build a good life. Part of that involved me getting a dependable degree. I forced myself to stop thinking about her. I missed her so much. She must be so worried.

"What made you want to be a cop?" I tried to focus my thoughts on his life, rather than my messy history.

Joey took an exit heading toward Wisconsin, another place I'd never been to. I decided I may as well make the most of the horrible experience and try to see the bright side, if there was such a thing. I told myself the bright side of our insane road trip was getting to see the country.

"I wanted to do something with my life that really mattered, made a difference."

His voice made a barely-noticeable crack on the last word. I could tell his job meant a whole lot to him. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what he loved about it, what he hated about it, if he planned on being a cop for the rest of his working life. Joey wasn't much of an open book thus far. If was going to be stuck with him like this, I wanted to change that.

I watched the Chicago skyline fade into the distance as we passed under the mileage sign to Milwaukee. One day, I'll get to explore that city, I thought to myself.

"When I was seventeen, my best friend was murdered," Joey breathed. "Some sick fuck robbed him outside a movie theater and shot him. I remember his mom telling me that the first responding officer had said my generation could change all of this if we'd just make an effort. I guess this is me making an effort."

My heart broke for him and I instantly saw him in a new light. There was a lot more to Joey Cavannaugh than a gun and a badge.